by Amanda Quick
There was really nothing to say in the face of that blunt statement of facts. Sophy hung her head. The plume waved in front of her eyes as she looked down at the ground. “I suppose you could view it that way, my lord. But I never meant for you to think you had … had hurt me. I only wanted you to think you had done what you seemed to feel was your duty. You seemed so anxious to claim your rights as a husband.”
“And you assumed that if I thought I had claimed those rights, I might then leave you alone for the next few months?”
“It occurred to me that you might be satisfied for a while, my lord. I thought you might then be willing to honor the terms of our agreement.”
“Sophy, if you mention that damned agreement one more time, I shall undoubtedly throttle you. At the very least, I will use my riding crop on your backside.”
She drew herself up bravely. “I am prepared for violence, my lord. It is well known that you have the devil’s own temper.”
“Is it, indeed? Then I am surprised you would bring me out here alone to make your grand confession. There is no one around to hear your cries for help should I decide to punish you now.”
“I did not think it fair to involve the servants,” she whispered.
“How very noble of you, my dear. You will forgive me if I have trouble believing that any woman capable of drugging her husband is a woman who is going to waste time worrying about what the servants might think.” His eyes narrowed. “By God, what did they think when they changed your bedding the next morning?”
“I explained to Mary that I had spilled some tea in bed.”
“In other words, I was the only one in the entire household who believed myself to be a brutal rapist? Well, that’s something, at least.”
“I am sorry, Julian. Truly, I am. In my own defense, I can only point out again that I really was frightened and angry. I had thought we were getting along so well, you see, getting to know one another and then there you were threatening me.”
“The thought of my lovemaking scares you so much you would go to such lengths to avoid it? Damn it, Sophy, you are no green chit of a girl. You are a full-grown woman, and you know well why I married you.”
“I have explained before, my lord, I am not frightened of the act itself,” she said fiercely. “It is just that I want time to get to know you. I wanted time for us to learn to deal together as husband and wife. I do not wish to be turned into a brood mare for your convenience and then turned out to pasture in the country. You must admit that is all you had in mind when you married me.”
“I admit nothing.” He slashed the crop against his boot one more time. “As far as I am concerned, you are the one who violated the basic understandings of our marriage. My requirements were simple and few. One of them, if you will recall, was that you never lie to me.”
“Julian, I did not lie to you. Perhaps I misled you, but surely you can see that I—”
“You lied to me,” he cut in brutally. “And if I had not been wallowing in my own guilt these past two days I would have realized it immediately. The signs were all present. You haven’t even been able to look me in the eye. If I hadn’t assumed that was because you couldn’t bear the sight of me, I would have understood at once that you were deceiving me.”
“I am sorry, Julian.”
“You are going to be a great deal sorrier, madam, before we are finished. I am not anything like your foolishly indulgent grandfather and its time you learned that fact. I thought you were intelligent enough to have realized that from the start, but apparently the lesson must be made plain.”
“Julian.”
“Get on your horse.”
Sophy hesitated. “What are you going to do, my lord?”
“When I have decided, I will tell you. In the meantime I will give you a taste of the exceedingly unpleasant experience of worrying about it.”
Sophy moved slowly toward her gelding. “I know you are in a rage, Julian. And perhaps I deserve it. But I do wish you would tell me how you intend to punish me. Truthfully, I do not think I can stand the suspense.”
His hands came around her waist from behind so swiftly that she started. Julian lifted her into the saddle with a barely suppressed violence. Then he stood for a moment looking up at her with cold fury in his eyes. “If you are going to play tricks on your husband, Madam Wife, you had better learn how to handle the suspense of worrying about his revenge. And I will have my revenge, Sophy. Never doubt it. I have no intention of allowing you to become the same kind of uncontrollable bitch my first wife was.”
Before she could respond he had turned away and mounted his stallion. Without another word he set out at a gallop for home, leaving Sophy to follow.
She arrived a half hour behind him and discovered to her dismay that the cheerful, bustling household that had emerged during the past few days had been magically altered. Eslington Park had become a somber, forbidding place.
The butler looked at her with sad eyes as she stepped forlornly into the hall. “We were worried about you, my lady,” he said gently.
“Thank you, Tyson. As you can see, I am quite all right. Where is Lord Ravenwood?”
“In the library, my lady. He has given orders he is not to be disturbed.”
“I see.” Sophy walked slowly toward the stairs, glancing nervously at the ominously closed library doors. She hesitated a moment. Then she picked up the skirts of her riding habit and ran up the stairs, heedless of the concerned eyes of the servants.
Julian emerged at dinner to announce his vengeance. When he sat down to the table with an implacable hardness in his eyes Sophy knew he had plotted his revenge over a bottle of claret.
A forbidding silence descended on the dining room. It seemed to Sophy that all the figures in the painted medallions set into the ceiling were staring down at her with accusing eyes.
She was trying her best to eat her fish when Julian sent the butler and the footman out of the room with a curt nod of his head. Sophy held her breath.
“I will be leaving for London in the morning,” Julian said, speaking to her for the first time.
Sophy looked up, hope springing to life within her. “We’re going to London, my lord?”
“No, Sophy. You are not going to London. I am. You, my dear, scheming wife, will remain here at Eslington Park. I am going to grant you your fondest wish. You may spend the remainder of your precious three months in absolute peace. I give you my solemn word I will not bother you.”
It dawned on her that he was going to abandon her here in the wilds of Norfolk. Sophy swallowed in shock. “I will be all alone, my lord?”
He smiled with savage civility. “Quite alone as far as having any companions or a guilt-stricken husband to dance attendance on you. However, you will have an excellently trained staff at your disposal. Perhaps you can amuse yourself tending to their sore throats and bilious livers.”
“Julian, please, I would rather you just beat me and be done with it.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he advised dryly.
“But I do not wish to stay here by myself. Part of our agreement was that I not be banished to the country while you went to London.”
“You dare mention that insane agreement to me after what you have done?”
“I am sorry if you do not like it, my lord, but you did give me your word on certain matters before our marriage. As far as I am concerned, you have come very near to breaking your oath on one point and now you are going to do so again. It is not … not honorable of you, my lord.”
“Do not presume to lecture me on the subject of honor, Sophy. You are a woman and you know little about it,” he roared.
Sophy stared at him. “I am learning quickly.”
Julian swore softly and tossed aside his napkin. “Don’t look at me as if you find me lacking in honor, madam. I assure you, I am not violating my oath. You will eventually get your day in London but that day will not arrive until you have learned your duty as a wife.”
“My duty.”
“At the end of your precious three months I will return here to Eslington Park and discuss the subject. I trust that by then you will have decided you can tolerate my touch. One way or another, madam, I will have what I want out of this marriage.”
“An heir and no trouble.”
His mouth crooked grimly. “You have already caused me a great deal of trouble, Sophy. Take what satisfaction you can from that fact because I do not intend to allow you to create any further uproar in my life.”
Sophy stood forlornly amid the marble statuary in the hall the next morning, her head held at a brave angle as she watched Julian prepare for his departure. As his valet saw to the loading of his baggage into the coach his lordship took his leave of his new bride with chilling formality.
“I wish you joy of your marriage during the next two and a half months, madam.”
He started to turn away and then halted with a disgusted oath as he caught sight of a dangling ribbon in her hair. He paused to retie it with a swift, impatient movement and then he was gone. The sound of his boots echoing on the marble was haunting.
Sophy endured a week of the humiliating banishment before her natural spirit revived. When it did she decided that not only had she suffered quite enough for her crime, she had also made a serious tactical error in dealing with her new husband.
The world began to seem much brighter the moment she made the decision to follow Julian to London.
If she had a few things to learn about managing a husband, then it followed that Julian had a few things to learn about managing a wife. Sophy determined to start the marriage afresh.
FIVE
Julian surveyed the solemn scene that greeted him as he walked through the door of his club. “There’s enough gloom in here to suit a funeral,” he remarked to his friend, Miles Thurgood. “Or a battlefield,” he added after a moment’s reflection.
“What did you expect?” Miles asked, his handsome young face set in the same grim lines as every other male face in the room. There was, however, an unmistakable air of ghoulish amusement in his vivid blue eyes. “It’s the same at all the clubs in St. James and everywhere else in town this evening. Gloom and doom throughout the city.”
“The first installment of the infamous Featherstone Memoirs was published today, I assume?”
“Just as the publisher promised. Right on time. Sold out within an hour, I’m told.”
“Judging from the morbid look on everyone’s face, I surmise the Grand Featherstone made good on her threat to name names.”
“Glastonbury’s and Plimpton’s among others.” Miles nodded toward two men on the other side of the room. There was a bottle of port sitting on the small table between their chairs and it was obvious both middle-aged lords were sunk deep in despondency. “There’ll be more in the next installment, or so we’re told.”
Julian’s mouth thinned as he took a seat and picked up a copy of the Gazette. “Leave it to a woman to find a way to create more excitement than the news of the war does.” He scanned the headlines, looking for the customary accounts of battle and the list of those who had fallen in the seemingly endless peninsular campaign.
Miles grinned fleetingly. “Easy for you to be so damn sanguine about the Featherstone Memoirs. Your new wife ain’t here in town where she can get hold of the newspapers. Glastonbury and Plimpton weren’t so lucky. Word has it Lady Glastonbury instructed the butler to lock poor Glastonbury out of his own house and Plimpton’s lady is reported to have staged a scene that shook the rafters.”
“And now both men are cowering here in their club.”
“Where else can they go? This is their last refuge.”
“They’re a pair of fools,” Julian declared, frowning as he paused to read a war dispatch.
“Fools, eh?” Miles settled back in his chair and eyed his friend with an expression of mingled laughter and respect. “I suppose you could give them sage advice on how to deal with an angry woman? Not everyone can convince his wife to rusticate in the country, Julian.”
Julian refused to be drawn. He knew Miles and all his other friends were consumed with curiosity about his newly acquired bride. “Glastonbury and Plimpton should have seen to it that their wives never got their hands on a copy of the Memoirs.”
“How were they supposed to prevent that from happening? Lady Glastonbury and Lady Plimpton probably sent footmen to wait in line along with everyone else at the publisher’s office this afternoon.”
“If Glastonbury and Plimpton cannot manage their wives any better than that, they both got what they deserved,” Julian said heartlessly. “A man has to set down firm rules in his own home.”
Miles leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Word has it both Glastonbury and Plimpton had an opportunity to save themselves but they failed to take advantage of it. The Grand Featherstone decided to make an example of them so that the next victims would be more amenable to reason.”
Julian glanced up. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“Haven’t you heard about the letters Charlotte is sending out to her former paramours?” drawled a soft, deep voice.
Julian’s brows climbed as the newcomer sank into the chair across from him with languid ease. “What letters would those be, Daregate?”
Miles nodded. “Tell him about the letters.”
Gideon Xavier Daregate, only nephew and thus heir apparent of the dissolute, profligate, and unmarried Earl of Daregate, smiled his rather cruel smile. The expression gave his aquiline features the look of a bird of prey. The silvery gray color of his cold eyes added to the impression. “Why, the little notes the Grand Featherstone is having hand carried to all potential victims. It seems that, for a price, a man can arrange to have his name left out of the Memoirs.”
“Blackmail,” Julian observed grimly.
“To be sure,” Daregate murmured, looking a trifle bored.
“A man does not pay off a blackmailer. To do so only invites further demands.”
“I’m certain that’s what Glastonbury and Plimpton told each other,” Daregate said. “In consequence, they not only find themselves featured in Charlotte’s Memoirs, they also find themselves ill-treated in print. Apparently the Grand Featherstone was not overly impressed with their prowess in the boudoir.”
Miles groaned. “The Memoirs are that detailed?”
“I fear so,” Daregate said dryly. “They are filled with the sort of unimportant details only a woman would bother to remember. Little points of interest such as whether a man neglected to bathe and change into fresh linen before paying a call. What’s the matter, Miles? You were never one of Charlotte’s protectors, were you?”
“No, but Julian was for a short time.” Miles grinned cheekily.
Julian winced. “God help me, that was a long time ago. I am certain Charlotte has long since forgotten me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Daregate said. “Women of that sort have long memories.”
“Don’t fret, Julian,” Miles added helpfully, “with any luck your bride will never even hear of the Memoirs.”
Julian grunted and went back to his newspaper. He would make damn sure of that.
“Tell us, Ravenwood,” Daregate interrupted blandly, “When are you going to introduce your new Countess to Society? You know everyone is extremely curious about her. You won’t be able to hide her forever.”
“Between the news of Wellington’s maneuvers in Spain and the Featherstone Memoirs, Society has more than enough to occupy its attention at the moment,” Julian said quietly.
Thurgood and Daregate both opened their mouths to protest that observation but one look at their friend’s cold, forbidding expression changed their minds.
“I believe I could use another bottle of claret,” Daregate said politely. “I find I am a little thirsty after a full evening of hazard. Will you two join me?”
“Yes,” said Julian, setting aside the newspaper. “I believe I will.”
“Going to put in an appea
rance at Lady Eastwell’s rout this evening?” Miles inquired conversationally. “Should be interesting. Gossip has it Lord Eastwell got one of Charlotte’s blackmail notes today. Everyone’s wondering if Lady Eastwell knows about it yet.”
“I have great respect for Eastwell,” Julian said. “I saw him under fire on the Continent. So did you, for that matter, Daregate. The man knows how to stand his ground against the enemy. He certainly ought to be able to deal with his wife.”
Daregate grinned his humorless smile. “Come now, Ravenwood, we both know that fighting Napoléon is a picnic by the sea compared to doing battle with an enraged woman.”
Miles nodded knowledgeably even though they all knew he had never been married or involved in a serious affair. “Very wise to have left your bride behind in the country, Ravenwood. Very wise, indeed. Can’t get into trouble there.”
Julian had been trying to convince himself of just that for the entire week he had been back in London. But tonight, as every other night since he had returned, he was not so sure he had made the right decision.
The fact was, he missed Sophy. It was regrettable, inexplicable, and damnably uncomfortable. It was also undeniable. He had been a fool to abandon her in the country. There had to have been another way to deal with her.
Unfortunately he had not been thinking clearly enough at the time to come up with an alternative.
Uneasily he considered the matter as he left his club much later that night. He bounded up into his waiting carriage and gazed broodingly out at the dark streets as his coachman snapped the whip.
It was true that his anger still flared high whenever he remembered the trick Sophy had played on him that fateful night when he had determined to claim his husbandly rights. And he reminded himself several times a day that it was crucial he teach her a lesson now, at the beginning of their marriage, while she was still relatively naive and moldable. She must not be allowed to gain the impression that she could manipulate him.