his eyes adjust to the darkness. And then he spotted Waycott's sprawled body
near the wall by the hearth.
Sophy was right. Things would be a great deal simpler if someone put a pistol to
the Viscount's head and pulled the trigger. But there were some things a
gentleman did not do. Julian shook his head in resignation and went over to the
hearth to stoke up the fire.
When he was finished, he pulled up the stool and sat down. Idly he glanced into
the basket and saw the emeralds pooled at the bottom beneath the pocket pistol.
With a sense of satisfaction, he picked up the necklace and watched the stones
glitter in the firelight. The Ravenwood emeralds were going to look very good on
the new Countess of Ravenwood.
Twenty minutes later the Viscount stirred and groaned. Julian watched, unmoving,
as Waycott slowly recovered his senses. He continued to wait while Waycott
blinked and then frowned at the fire, waited as the man sat up and put a hand to
his temple, waited until the Viscount finally began to realize there was someone
else in the room.
"That's right, Waycott, Sophy is safe and now you must deal with me." Julian
casually let the emeralds cascade from one palm to the other and back again. "I
suppose it was inevitable that at some point you would finally go too far. You
are a man obsessed, are you not?"
Waycott inched backward until he was sitting propped against the wall. He leaned
his fair head against the damp stones and stared at Julian through lids narrowed
with hatred. "So dear little Sophy ran straight to you, did she? And you
believed every word she said, I suppose. I may be obsessed, Ravenwood, but you
are a fool."
Julian glanced down at the glittering emeralds. "You are partially correct,
Waycott. I was a fool once, a long time ago. I did not recognize a witch in a
silk ball gown. But those days are over. In some ways, I almost pity you. The
rest of us managed to extricate ourselves from Elizabeth's spell years ago. You
alone remained ensnared."
"Because I alone loved her. The rest of you only wanted to use her. You wanted
to steal her innocence and beauty and thereby tarnish it forever. I wanted to
protect her."
"As I said, you are as obsessed as you ever were. If you had been content to
suffer alone, I would have continued to ignore you. Unfortunately, you chose to
try to use Sophy as a means of avenging yourself against me. That I cannot
overlook or ignore. I warned you, Waycott. Now you will pay for involving Sophy
and we will put an end to this whole business."
Waycott laughed crudely. "What did your sweet little Sophy tell you about what
happened here today? Did she tell you I found her on the path by the pond? Did
she tell you that she was on her way back from the same abortionist Elizabeth
had consulted? Your dear, sweet, innocent Sophy is already scheming to rid
herself of your heir, Ravenwood. She doesn't want to bear your brat any more
than Elizabeth did."
For an instant, Sophy's words flashed in Julian's head and a lingering sense of
guilt shot through him. I do not wish to be rushed into childbed.
Julian shook his head and smiled grimly at Waycott. "You are as clever as any
footpad when it comes to sinking a knife into a man's back but in this case your
aim is off. You see, Waycott, Sophy and I have gotten to know each other very
well. She is an honorable woman. We have made a bargain, she and I, and while I
regret to say I have not always upheld my end of the arrangement, she has always
been true to her side. I know she went to see Old Bess for a fresh supply of
herbs, not to seek an abortion."
"You are indeed a fool, Ravenwood, if you believe that. Did Sophy also lie to
you about what happened over there on that pallet? Did she tell you how easily
she pulled up her skirts and spread her thighs for me? She's not particularly
skilled yet, but I expect she'll improve with practice."
Julian's fury momentarily slipped its leash. He dropped the emeralds to the
floor and came up off the stool in one smooth, swift movement. He took two
strides across the chamber and caught Waycott by the front of the shirt. Then he
hauled the Viscount to his feet and slammed a fist into the handsome face.
Something broke in the region of Waycott's nose and blood spurted. Julian hit
him again.
"You son of a bitch, you don't want to admit you married a whore, do you?"
Waycott slid sideways out of reach along the wall and wiped the back of his hand
against his bleeding nose. "But you did, you rotten bastard. I wonder how long
it will be until you realize it."
"Sophy would never dishonor herself or me. I know she did not allow you to touch
her."
"Is that why you reacted so quickly when I told you what happened between Sophy
and me?" Waycott taunted.
Julian damped down his rage. "It is useless trying to talk to you, Waycott. When
it comes to this, you are truly beyond reason. I suppose I should pity you, but
I fear I cannot allow even a madman to insult my wife."
Waycott eyed him uneasily. "You will never call me out. We both know that."
"Unfortunately, you are right," Julian agreed, thinking of the vow he had made
to Sophy. He had broken, or at least bent, far too many promises to her already.
He would not break another even though he longed for nothing more than to be
free to put a bullet into Waycott. He walked over to the hearth and stood
staring down into the flames.
"I knew it," Waycott gloated. "I told her you would never again risk your neck
over a woman. You have lost your taste for vengeance. You will not challenge
me."
"No, Waycott, I will not call you out." Julian clasped his hands behind his back
and turned his head to smile at the other man with cool anticipation. "Not for
the reasons you assume but for other, private reasons. Rest assured, however,
that decision will not prevent me from accepting a challenge from you."
Waycott looked baffled. "What the devil are you talking about?"
"I will not call you out, Waycott. I am bound by a certain vow in that regard.
But I think we can arrange matters so that you will finally feel obliged to call
me out. And when you do, I can promise you, I will be most eager to meet you. I
have already chosen my seconds. You remember Daregate, don't you? And Thurgood?
They will be only too happy to assist me and to ensure that matters are
conducted with utmost fairness. Daregate, you know, is very good at spotting a
cheat. I can even supply the pistols. I await your earliest convenience."
Waycott's mouth fell open. Then the expression of shock was replaced with a
sneer. "Why should I call you out? It is not my wife who has betrayed me."
"This is not a matter of a wife's betrayal. There has been no betrayal. Do not
waste any more breath trying to convince me that I have been cuckolded, because
I know the truth. The sleeping potion in your tea and that rope on the floor
that you used to tether Sophy are evidence enough. But as it happens I believed
her before I saw the evidence. I already know my wife to be a woman of honor."
"A woman of honor? Honor is a meaningless term to a female."
"To a woman such as Elizabeth, yes. But not to a woman like Sophy. We will not
discuss the subject of honor again, however. There is no point because you,
yourself, do not have any comprehension of the matter. Now, back to the issue at
hand."
"Are you calling my honor into question?" Waycott snarled.
"Certainly. And what is more, I will continue to call your so-called honor into
question in the most public sort of way until you finally issue a challenge or
emigrate to America. Those are the two choices you face, Waycott."
"You cannot force me to do either."
"If you think not, you have a surprise in store. I will, indeed, force you to
make your choice. I will hound you until you do so. You see, I intend to make
life intolerable for you here in England, Waycott. I will be like a wolf nipping
at your heels until I draw blood."
Waycott was very pale in the firelight. "You are bluffing."
"Shall I tell you how it will be? Listen well, Waycott and hear your fate. No
matter what you do or where you go in England, I or an agent of mine will be
behind you. If you see a horse at Tattersall's you wish to purchase, I will
outbid you and see that the animal goes to another. If you try to buy a new pair
of boots at Hoby's, or order a coat from Weston's, I will inform the proprietors
that they, will not have any future business from me if they continue to serve
you."
"You cannot do that," Waycott hissed.
"And that is only the beginning," Julian continued relentlessly. "I shall let
all the owners of the various parcels of land that surround your estate in
Suffolk know that I am willing to buy them out. In time, Waycott, your lands
will be surrounded by properties owned by me. Furthermore, I shall make certain
that your reputation suffers so that no reputable club will have you and no
respectable hostess will want you under her roof."
"It will never work."
"Yes it will, Waycott. I have the money, land, and a sufficiently powerful title
to ensure that my plan will work. What's more, I will have Sophy on my side. Her
name is golden in London these days, Waycott. When she turns against you, the
entire social world will turn against you."
"No." Waycott shook his head furiously, his eyes wild. "She will never do so. I
did not hurt her. She will understand why I did what I did. She is sympathetic
to me."
"Not any longer."
"Because I brought her here? But I can explain that to her."
"You will never have the chance. Even if I allowed you to get close enough to
plead with her, which I have no intention of doing, you would find no sympathy
or leniency from that quarter. You see, Waycott, you sealed your own doom before
you even met Sophy."
"What in God's name are you talking about now?"
"Remember that young woman whom you seduced here three years ago and whom you
later abandoned when she got pregnant? The one who took your devilish ring? The
one you told Sophy was unimportant? The one you called the village whore?"
"What about her?" Waycott screamed. "She was Sophy's sister."
Waycott's expression went blank with shock. "Oh, my God."
"Exactly," Julian said quietly. "You begin to perceive the depths of your
problem. I see no point in my staying here any longer. Consider your two choices
carefully, Waycott.
If I were you, I'd choose America. I've heard from those who patronize Manton
that you are not a good marksman."
Julian turned his back on Waycott, picked up the emeralds and walked out the
door. He had untied the black's reins before he heard the muffled shot from
within the old castle.
He had been wrong. Waycott had had three choices, not two. It was obvious the
Viscount had found the pocket pistol in the basket and taken the third way out.
Julian put one foot in the stirrup and then reluctantly decided to go back into
the ominously silent ruin. The scene that awaited him would be unpleasant, to
say the least, but given Waycott's general ineptitude it would be best to make
certain the Viscount had not made a muddle of the whole thing.
TWENTY
It seemed to Sophy that she had been sitting huddled in a chair for hours before
she finally heard Julian's booted footsteps in the hall. With a soft cry of
relief, she leaped to her feet and flew to the door.
One anxious glance at her husband's harsh, weary face told her that something
very grim had occurred. The half-empty bottle of claret and the glass that he
had obviously stopped to pick up in the library confirmed the impression.
"Are you all right, Julian?"
"Yes."
He walked into the room, closed the door behind him and set the claret on the
dressing table. Without another word he reached out to pull Sophy into his arms.
They stood together in silence for a long while before either spoke.
"What happened?" Sophy finally asked.
"Waycott is dead."
She could not deny the sense of relief that went through her at that news. She
tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "You killed him?"
"A matter of opinion, I imagine. Some would certainly say I was responsible.
However, I did not actually pull the trigger. He performed that task himself."
Sophy closed her eyes. "He took his own life. Just as Amelia did."
"Perhaps there is some justice in the ending."
"Sit down, Julian. I will pour you some claret."
He did not argue. Sprawling in a chair near the window he watched with brooding
eyes as Sophy poured the wine and carried it over to him.
"Thank you," he said as he took the glass from her. His eyes met hers. "You have
a way of giving me what I want when I need it." He took a large mouthful of wine
and swallowed it. "Are you all right? Has the news about Waycott unsettled you?"
"No." Sophy shook her head and sat down near Julian. "God forgive me, but I am
glad it is over, even if it means another death. He would not go to America?"
"I do not believe he was rational enough to think clearly on the subject. I told