Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (12 page)

The portrait she had painted of herself was completely different from the girl he had known, so obviously it was biased in her own favor. She forgot to mention her numerous temper tantrums or how she had to be the center of attention no matter where she was. She made him sound like some worldly rake, something that couldn't have been farther from the truth.

Still, he couldn't deny that he had to take at least half of the blame for what had happened, and he was prepared to do just that. There was little else he could do. Besides, how horrible had her life turned out? From what he had seen and heard, the marquess had been good to her. And her reputation had recovered much more quickly than his had. It was years before any mothers would let their daughters anywhere near him. He probably could have been married by now if not for Sophia.

For that matter he could have been married
to
Sophia. Now there was a startling thought. Knowing how both of them had been back then he couldn't see it being a good match, but now…

Now it was madness to even think about it. What man in his right mind wanted a wife he couldn't trust? Or for that matter didn't trust him?

She hadn't told him why she had married Aberley so quickly. Was it to save her reputation, or had he been right about her fishing for a fortune? She hadn't told him why she went from living in splendor to near poverty and she certainly hadn't told him what kind of hold Charles Morelle had over her. These alone were reasons not to hand over his trust so hastily.

A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts. "Enter."

His butler, Fielding, stuck his head in the door. "Begging your pardon, my lord, but there is a gentleman here to see you."

"Who is it, Fielding?"

"The Marquess of Aberley, my lord."

Julian's jaw tightened as did his chest. Aberley had some nerve coming to his house after his appalling conduct at Sophia's cottage.

"Send him in."

A few moments later, a smug Charles Morelle entered the room, his hat and gloves under one arm. Julian didn't bother to stand.

"Good morning, Wolfram."

Julian made no pretense of amenity. "What do you want, Aberley?"

The marquess was all confusion and mock civility. "Why, I have come to call upon my dear sister-in-law and inquire after her health and well-being."

Did Aberley truly think him daft enough to believe that?

"Sophia does not want to see you."

"Did she tell you that?" The marquess demanded, some of his pleasant demeanor slipping. "Did she say she does not want to see me?"

Julian nodded, saying nothing.

Somehow, Aberley managed to adopt an expression of wounded innocence. "Look, Wolfram. I do not know what Sophia has told you— "

"She needn't tell me anything," Julian's tone was clipped, brooking no argument. "I saw."

Aberley didn't even have the sense to look sorry. He simply shrugged. "What you saw was a lovers' spat, nothing more." He smiled. "You know how women can be."

Julian's blood turned to ice in his veins. A lovers' spat? "Do you make a habit of accosting your lovers until they are in tears and screaming for help?"

Another shrug. Aberley's attention wasn't even on him now. He was looking about at the papers and books on Julian's desk.

"Sophia was being a tease and got mad when I refused to play along." He glanced up. "She used you to get at me, Wolfram, and she will continue to use you until she has decided she has had enough and wants to come home. To me."

His words struck that part of Julian that was still unsure of Sophia and her actions. One thing he was not unsure of, however, was the genuine fear he had seen on her face the other day in the park. That was not the look of a woman wanting to torment a lover.

Pushing back his chair, Julian rose to his feet. He moved around to the front of the desk. "For now she does not wish to return home to you, Aberley. And until she does I will respect her wishes. Now, if there is nothing else you wish to discuss with me, I am afraid I must ask you to excuse me. I have an urgent commission to attend to. I trust you can find your way out?"

Without waiting for the marquess's reply, Julian turned on his heel and left the room. If Aberley wasn't gone in two minutes he was going to personally throw the bastard out into the street.

He felt like ten times a coward for walking out on the marquess rather than demanding that he leave, but it was the only way he could think of at the time to escape Aberley's words. He didn't want to believe Sophia capable of pitting the two of them against each other. He might not trust her, but he trusted her more than he trusted Aberley, and he would take her side against the marquess anytime.

He went to the red drawing room and stood at the bank of windows that afforded a good view of the drive. A few minutes later a carriage with the Aberley crest on it passed by. Satisfied, Julian left the drawing room and made for the corridor, where he found Fielding.

"Fielding," he said, coming to stand before the man in a few long strides. "If the Marquess of Aberley calls again I want you to tell him we are not at home, especially if he calls looking for the marchioness. Am I understood? He is not to see her."

If Fielding was surprised by the finality in his tone he did not show it. "Yes, my lord. Of course. I will pass that on to the rest of the staff."

Nodding in approval, Julian turned to leave. A movement at the top of the stairs caught his eye and he looked up to see Sophia staring at him with an expression he couldn't read. But he thought— hoped— it was trust.

"I
look fat."

Standing in front of the cheval glass in her bedroom, Sophia twisted from side to side, frowning critically at her reflection.

The gown that Madam Villeneuve had worked so hard to have ready for that night was a beautiful wine-colored silk creation with a low neckline and gold underskirt. She should have felt beautiful in it, but instead she felt like an overripe pomegranate.

Letitia laughed and crossed the carpet toward her. Letitia could afford to laugh. She was a vision in a russet satin gown.

"You look nothing of the sort," her friend chastised. "You are stunning!"

Sophia didn't know about stunning, but perhaps she did look better than she originally thought. Jenny, her maid, had piled her hair high up on her head in an elaborate style and applied curling tongs to the tendrils that fell around her face and neck. She had even applied a bit of powder and lip color— not too much. She didn't want to look like a tart.

"Now, fetch your wrap and let us be off. We are late." Letitia released her arms and went back to the bed where her own wrap and reticule lay.

"All right," Sophia said, gathering up her things and expelling a deep breath. "I am ready."

Linking arms, the two of them left the room and went downstairs to the hall, where Julian stood waiting.

The sight of him nearly took Sophia's breath away. He held his hat in one gloved hand, leaving the rich warm waves of his hair naked to her greedy gaze. He was dressed entirely in black and white; black coat and cape and fashionably long trousers with a white shirt and cravat and an ivory waistcoat.

He stared at her as openly as she stared at him, but Sophia could not tell for the life of her whether or not he approved of her appearance.

"Ladies," he said with a bow. "Might I say that you both look lovely tonight."

"Just lovely?" Letitia asked with a laugh. "Oh, Julian! Surely you can do better than that! Just look at Sophia. Is she not the most beautiful creature you have ever seen?"

"Lettie," Sophia chided softly, embarrassed.

"Yes," Julian said and her startled gaze locked with his. "She is."

Slow heat spread over every inch of Sophia's body under the weight of his lupine stare.

"Thank you, my lord. You look very handsome as well."

"Oh, my brother is well aware of how handsome he is, Sophia!" Letitia laughed again. "Are you not, Julian?"

Julian looked at his sister as though he wanted to strangle her and said nothing. He helped her into her wrap instead and then turned to offer his assistance to Sophia.

"Oh no," she protested. "You do not need to help me…" but her words died off as he took the shawl from her numb fingers and placed it around her shoulders. He didn't touch her at all and yet there was something incredibly intimate about him draping the wrap around her.

Licking her lips, she glanced up. He was staring at her just as intently as he had a few moments before. "Thank you."

His only reply was a slight smile. Could it be that he was just as sorry for their argument the night before as she was? Was that why he told the butler not to let Charles into the house? Was that why he was being so attentive to her now?

She had told him she had loved him. How was she to behave around him now? A voice in the back of her head— Edmund's voice— told her that a proper lady would go on as though it had never happened, but she feared she wasn't a proper lady, despite all of her late husband's efforts.

"I wonder if I might be so bold as to claim a dance with you tonight, Lady Aberley?"

He was smiling at her, smiling as though she had never yelled at him, as though she had never accused him of lacking, uh,
bollocks
.

"Of course," she replied, her voice hoarse. "Which would you like?"

"The first." His smile faded and suddenly he looked very young and unsure. "And the last."

Sophia wasn't certain why, but the fact that he wanted her to begin and end the evening with him set her heart to pounding in a most erratic manner.

"Come on, you two!" Letitia called from the door, before Sophia could speak. "We are already late!"

Letitia's anxiety over getting to the ball had nothing to do with being late and everything to do with the fact that Mr. Wesley was going to be in attendance. Sophia could only hope that her friend kept her wits about her. She knew how dangerous such gatherings could be. A few dances, too much champagne and a young lady was liable to drape herself across a desk in a darkened library and ask that her escort make a woman out of her.

They arrived at Eden shortly after seven. The club was the only one of its kind in London. It had a club for gentlemen and a club for ladies within its walls, but it also had a large dining room and assembly rooms where both sexes mingled freely. No one was allowed to wager more than they could afford to pay, and if the management believed a customer was too deep in his— or her— cups to play responsibly, then that person was cut off.

One would think all these rules and regulations would have put the club out of business after its first two nights, but Eden had been up and running for some months now and was doing quite well. As it was Thursday the assembly rooms were open and teeming with be-jeweled members of society. Eden was quickly earning a reputation— rivaling even Almack's— as
the
place to be seen by the haute ton.

Sophia could have done without the public introductions. It seemed as though a collective gasp rose up from the crowd as her name was announced, and an even larger one echoed when Julian was announced next.

Julian, blast him, appeared unperturbed. With Sophia on one arm and Letitia on the other, he swept into the room as though he owned it.

Sophia tried to ignore the curious gazes that followed them and instead allowed herself the pleasure of taking in the beauty of the room's decorations. What must have been almost a dozen chandeliers glittered and twinkled high above their heads. Swaths of white and blue gauze were draped along the walls up to the ceiling, creating a tent effect. And everywhere she looked, potted palms and huge arrangements of brightly colored flowers gave the room an exotic appearance and a sweet scent. Letitia broke away from them to go speak to some friends. Sophia had no doubt that Mr. Wesley was one of them. Alone, she and Julian walked toward a small group at the far end of the ballroom.

A red-haired woman in the group turned as they approached. It was Lilith. "Sophia!"

Laughing, the two women embraced. Sophia hadn't seen Lilith Mallory since before Lilith's parents sent her away after she had been ruined by some blackguard. Obviously, she had survived the scandal and done quite well for herself.

Perhaps there was hope for Sophia yet.

Lilith introduced Sophia to her husband, Gabriel Warren, Earl of Angelwood. Sophia tried to keep the surprise from her face as she shook the earl's hand. She had been invited to their wedding, but at the time she hadn't made the connection. Wasn't he the same man who had ruined Lilith years ago? And wasn't he an old friend of Julian's? Had these two made it a habit to play fast with young women's virtue in their youth or was it merely a coincidence?

The other couple was Julian's old friend Balthazar Wycherley, Earl of Braven, and his countess, Rachel. A lovely couple. Obviously very much in love. Sophia wondered if they had a scandal as well.

Across the floor she spotted Letitia dancing with Phillip Singleton, heir to the Earl of Wroth and apparently one of the young men on Julian's list of potential husbands. He was a friendly young man, handsome, rich and kind. He would no doubt make anyone an excellent husband, but Sophia wasn't certain if he had quite enough backbone to handle Letitia when she decided she wanted her own way.

She wondered how much backbone Mr. Wesley had. Her thoughts were cut short by Julian claiming his dance.

Hours later, Sophia's feet were beginning to feel the strain of too much dancing. Her stomach also was feeling the effects, demanding to be fed with an embarrassingly loud growl.

"Lady Aberley," came a familiar voice from behind her. "Would you do me the honor of sitting down to supper with me?"

Sophia wanted to ask Julian why he didn't take one of his many dance partners instead, but managed to hold her tongue. The last thing she wanted him to know was that it bothered her to see him with other women.