crying herself to sleep. He had felt like a brute this morning when he had told
her he was sending her back to Ravenwood Abbey but he also knew he had no
choice. Once he had learned what she was up to, he'd had no option but to get
her out of the city. She was wading into dangerous waters and she had no
knowledge of how to keep herself front drowning.
Julian swallowed a mouthful of claret and speculated on whether or not he ought
to feel guilty for the way he had manipulated Sophy that morning. At the very
beginning of the confrontation in her bedchamber he had quickly realized there
was no way she would respond to logical arguments about her own safety. Her
personal sense of honor overrode such considerations. And he could not bring
himself to use physical force to get her to do the reasonable thing.
He had, therefore, fallen back on the only other approach he could think of even
though he had not been at all certain it would be effective. He had used her
feelings for him to maneuver her into doing as he wished.
It had been a heady shock to watch her stalwart defenses crumple so swiftly when
he had warned her that her actions might force him to risk his life in a duel.
She must truly be in love with him. No other emotion could be powerful enough to
overcome her deep sense of honor. For his sake she had abandoned her quest for
vengeance.
Julian felt at once humbled by the obvious strength of her feelings and
simultaneously exultant. There was no doubt but that Sophy had given herself to
him—belonged to him, in ways that, until now, he had never believed possible.
But even as he gloried in that realization, he was grimly aware that she was
very unhappy and he was the cause. It is just so blasted unfair. Nothing is
going the way I had thought it would when I agreed to marry you.
Now, on top of everything else, she was quite possibly pregnant. He winced as he
recalled that one of the things she had asked of him was not to be rushed into
childbed.
Julian sank lower in the chair and wondered if he would ever be able to redeem
himself in Sophy's eyes. It seemed in that moment that he had done everything
wrong, right from the beginning. How did a man go about convincing his wife that
he was worthy of her love? he asked himself. It was a problem he had not ever
imagined having to solve and after all that had passed between himself and Sophy
there was every chance the tangle could never be resolved.
The door opened behind him. Julian did not glance around the wings of his chair.
"Go on to bed, Guppy and send the rest of the staff to their rooms. I intend to
stay in here a while and there is no point in any of you staying up. I will see
to the candles."
"I have already told Guppy and the rest of the staff to retire for the night,"
Sophy said, quietly closing the door.
Julian froze at the sound of her voice. Then he slowly put down his glass and
got to his feet to face her. She looked very slender and fragile in a pink,
high-waisted gown. It was difficult to believe she might be pregnant, Julian
thought. Her hair was piled high on her head and anchored with a ribbon that was
already beginning to untie itself. She smiled her gentle, beguiling smile.
"I thought you would be in bed by now," Julian said gruffly. He wondered at her
mood. She was not crying, nor did she appear about to argue or scold or plead.
"You need rest for your journey."
"I came to say good-bye to you, Julian." She halted in front of him, her eyes
luminous.
A rush of relief went through him. Apparently she was no longer as distraught as
she had been earlier. "I will be joining you soon," he promised.
"Good. I shall miss you." She traced the folds of his carefully folded cravat.
"But I would not have us part with ill feelings."
"I assure you, there are no ill feelings. At least not on my part. I only want
what is best for you. You must believe that, Sophy."
"I realize that. You are very thickheaded at times and stubborn and arrogant but
I know you truly believe you are trying to protect me. But most importantly, I
will not have you risking your life for me."
"Sophy? What are you doing?" He watched in amazement as she began untying the
snowy white cravat. "Sophy, I swear to you that your going to the Abbey truly is
the best possible course of action. It will not be so bad there, my dear. You
will be able to see your grandparents and surely you have friends you will wish
to invite for a visit."
"Yes, Julian." The cravat came free in her hands and she began unbuttoning his
jacket.
"If you are indeed with child the country air will be much healthier for you
than that of the city," he continued, frantically searching his mind for other
good reasons to encourage her willingness to leave.
"No doubt you are right, my lord. The air of London seems to be constantly
brown, does it not?" She started to work on his white shirt.
"I am certain I am right." The novelty of having her undress him was affecting
his senses. He was having trouble thinking clearly. His breeches were suddenly
uncomfortably tight over his swelling shaft.
"I find that men are always quite certain they are right. Even when they are
wrong."
"Sophy?" He swallowed heavily as her fingertips found his bared chest. "Sophy, I
know you find me arrogant on occasion, but, I assure you—"
"Please do not say anything else, Julian. I do not want to talk about the logic
of my returning to the Abbey and I do not want to discuss your unfortunate
tendency toward arrogance." She stood on tiptoe and offered her slightly parted
lips. "Kiss me."
"Oh, God, Sophy." He took her soft mouth hungrily, dazed by his good fortune.
Her mood seemed to have changed completely and although he did not begin to
comprehend why, he was not about to question the turn of events.
When she pressed herself more closely against him, he managed to collect his
senses long enough to speak once more. "Sophy, darling, let us go upstairs.
Quickly."
"Why?" She nuzzled his throat.
Julian stared down at her ruffled curls. "Why?" he repeated. "You ask me that at
this stage of events? Sophy, I am on fire for you."
"The entire household is in bed. We are quite alone. No one will bother us."
It finally dawned on him that she was quite prepared to make love right there in
the library. "Ah, Sophy," he said, half-laughing, half-groaning, "you are indeed
a woman of many surprises." He pulled the ribbon from her hair.
"I would have you remember me well while we are parted, my lord."
"There is nothing on this earth that could ever make me forget you, my sweet
wife." He picked her up and carried her over to the sofa.
He set her down on the cushion and she smiled up at him with timeless feminine
promise. When she held out her arms, Julian went into them with unquestioning
eagerness.
A few minutes later when he found the sofa too confining, Julian rolled off onto
the carpet, taking Sophy with him. She followed happily, the curves of her bare
breasts and throat blushing a delectable shade of pink. Julian lay on his back,
his wife stretched out sleek and naked on top of him and made a mental note to
try the entire process on the floor of the library at Ravenwood Abbey at the
earliest opportunity.
SEVENTEEN
Julian had been right, Sophy thought on her third day at Ravenwood. She would
never admit it to him, of course, but things really were not so bad in the
country. The worst part as far as she was concerned was that he was not with
her.
She'd had plenty to keep her occupied in her husband's absence, however. The
interior of the magnificent country house was badly in need of attention. Julian
had an excellent and willing staff, but the members of it had been functioning
largely without direction since Elizabeth's death.
Sophy greeted the new housekeeper with enthusiasm, pleased to see that the
steward had followed the advice to promote Mrs. Ashkettle to the post. Mrs.
Ashkettle was equally pleased to see a familiar face in charge and they both
threw themselves into a frenzy of supervising the cleaning, repairing, and
general freshening up of the entire house.
Sophy invited her grandparents for the evening meal on the third day and
discovered the pleasure of presiding over her own table.
Her grandmother exclaimed happily over the magic Sophy had wrought during the
previous three days. "An infinite improvement, my dear. The last time we were
here everything seemed so dark and gloomy. Amazing what some polishing and
cleaning and fresh draperies can do."
"Food ain't bad, either," Lord Dorring announced, helping himself to a second
round of sausages. "You make a fine Countess, Sophy. I believe I'll have a bit
more claret. Ravenwood's cellar contains some excellent stuff. When will your
husband be returning?"
"Soon, I hope. He has business to finish in the city. In the meantime, it is
probably just as well he is not here. The commotion in the house for the past
three days would have no doubt annoyed him." Sophy smiled at the footman to
signal more claret. "There are a few more rooms that still need work." Including
the bedchamber that by rights belonged to the Countess of Ravenwood, she
reminded herself.
It had been a surprise to find that particular room locked. Mrs. Ashkettle had
rummaged through the keys that she had inherited from Mrs. Royle and had shaken
her head in bewilderment.
"None of them seem to fit, my lady. Don't understand it. Perhaps the key's been
lost. Mrs. Royle said she was always told to stay out of that room and I've
followed those instructions. Rut now that you're here, you'll be wantin' to move
into it. Don't worry, ma'am, I'll have one of the staff see to the problem right
away."
Rut the problem had been resolved when Sophy had come across a key buried at the
back of a desk drawer in the library. On a hunch she had tried her discovery on
the locked door and found that it worked perfectly. She had investigated
Elizabeth's old bedchamber with deep curiosity.
She had decided immediately that she would not move in until it had been
completely cleaned and aired. She could not bring herself to occupy it in its
present condition. It had apparently been left untouched since Elizabeth's
death.
When Lord and Lady Dorring eventually took their leave after dinner, Sophy
discovered she was exhausted. She went wearily up to the room she was using and
allowed her maid to prepare her for bed.
"Thank you, Mary." Sophy delicately patted away a yawn. "I seem to be very tired
tonight."
"Hardly surprisin' m'lady, after all the work you've been doin' around here. You
ought to take it easy, if you don't mind my sayin' so. His lordship won't be
pleased if he finds out you've been workin' yourself to the bone what with you
carryin' the baby and all."
Sophy's eyes widened. "How did you know about the baby?"
Mary grinned unabashedly. "Ain't no secret, ma'am. I've been lookin' after you
long enough now to know certain things ain't occurred on schedule.
Congratulations, if I may say so. Have you told his lordship the good news yet?
He'll be pleased as pie."
Sophy sighed. "Yes, Mary, he knows."
"I'll wager that's why he sent us back to the country, then. He wouldn't want
you in that filthy London air while you're breedin'. His lordship's the type who
looks after his female folk."
"Yes he is, isn't he? Go on to bed, Mary. I am going to read for a while."
There were few secrets in a large household and Sophy knew it. Still, she had
thought to keep her precious one about the baby quiet a while longer. She was
still adjusting to the idea of being pregnant with Julian's child.
"Very good, ma'am. Shall I take Cook the ointment you promised her for her
hands?"
"The ointment. Oh, dear, I nearly forgot." Sophy went quickly to her medicine
chest. "I must remember to visit Old Bess tomorrow and get some fresh supplies.
I did not trust the freshness of the herbs the London apothecaries stocked."
"Yes, ma'am. Well, good night, then, ma'am," Mary said as Sophy put the
container of ointment into her hand. "Cook'll be grateful."
"Good night, Mary."
Sophy watched the door close behind her maid and then she wandered restlessly
over to the shelf that contained her books. She really was very tired but now
that she was ready for bed she did not feel like sleeping.
But she did not feel like reading, either, she discovered as she flipped idly
through a few pages of Byron's latest effort, The Giaour. She had purchased the
volume a few days before Julian had sent her into the country and she had been
eager to read it. It said a great deal about her present mood that she was now
unable to work up a ready interest in the poet's latest tale of adventure and
intrigue in the exotic Orient.
Turning aside from her books, her eye fell on the small jewelry case on her
dressing table. The black ring was no longer in it but every time she looked at
the case, Sophy thought of it and fretted a little over her thwarted plans to