by Amanda Quick
“A sound point,” Jane said. “I’ll wager most men would call out any other man who had written such things about their wives.”
Julian, for one, would be strongly inclined to spill blood over such a scandal, Sophy thought, not without some satisfaction as well as a chill of fear. His rage under such circumstances would indeed be awesome and his fierce pride would demand vengeance.
“Lady Ashford is hardly in a position to call out Charlotte Featherstone,” one of the women in the group said dryly. “As it is, the poor woman will simply be forced to retreat to the country for a while until the gossip has run its course.”
Another woman on the other side of the room grinned knowingly. “So Lord Ashford is a dead bore in bed, is he? How interesting.”
“According to Featherstone, most men are rather boring in bed,” Fanny said. “Thus far she has not had a good word to say about any of her admirers.”
“Perhaps the more interesting lovers have paid the blackmail she is said to be demanding in order to be left out of the Memoirs,” suggested a young matron.
“Or perhaps men, in general, simply do not make interesting lovers,” Harriette observed calmly. “More tea, anyone?”
The street in front of the Yelverton mansion was crowded with elegant carriages. Julian alighted from his at midnight and made his way through the crowd of lounging coachmen, grooms, and footmen to the wide steps that led to the Yelverton hall.
He was virtually under orders to appear tonight. Fanny had made it clear that this was to be Sophy’s first major ball and that Julian’s presence would be much appreciated. While it was true he was free to go his own way for the most part, there were certain occasions that required his presence at Sophy’s side. This was one of them.
Julian, who had been getting up at an ungodly hour and going to bed far too late for the past week in an effort to avoid unnecessary encounters with his wife, had found himself trapped when Fanny had made it plain she expected him to show up at some point tonight. He had resigned himself to a dance with his wife.
It was akin to resigning himself to torture. The few minutes on the ballroom floor with her in his arms would be more difficult for him than Sophy would ever know.
If the time spent apart from her had not been easy, this past week with Sophy living under the same roof had been hell. The night he had arrived home to find that she had come to apologize and to take up residence in town, he had been seized first with a glorious relief and then with a sense of caution.
But he had managed to convince himself she had come meekly to heel. She had clearly abandoned her outrageous demands and was prepared to assume the role of a proper wife to him. That night when he had confronted her in her bedchamber she had virtually offered herself to him.
It had taken every ounce of willpower Julian possessed to walk out of the room that night. Sophy had looked so sweet and submissive and tempting he had ached to reach out and take what was his by right. But he had been shaken by her arrival and had not fully trusted his own reactions. He had known he needed time to think.
By the following morning he had also realized that now she was with him again, he could not send her away. Nor was there any need to do so, he had told himself. After all, she had humbled her pride by coming to town and throwing herself on his mercy. It was she who had pleaded to be allowed to stay. Hadn’t she apologized most sincerely for the embarrassing events at Eslington Park?
Julian had decided his pride had been salvaged and the lesson had been taught. He had made up his mind to be gracious and allow her to stay in town. The decision had not been a difficult one although he had lain awake till dawn arriving at it.
He had also determined during the course of that sleepless night that he would lay claim to his conjugal rights immediately. He had certainly been denied them long enough. But by morning he had acknowledged it was not that simple. Something was missing in the equation.
Not being much given to introspection or self-analysis, he had taken most of the next morning right up until the interview in the library to arrive at a vague notion of what was wrong with leaping straight into bed with Sophy.
He had finally admitted to himself that he did not want Sophy to give herself to him out of a sense of wifely duty.
It was, in fact, damned galling to think that she would do so. He wanted her to want him. He wanted to be able to look into those clear, honest eyes and see genuine desire and womanly need. Above all he did not like the notion that, no matter how willing she was to please him now, she privately considered he had reneged on their original bargain.
The realization had thrown him into a frustrated quandary. It had also left him extremely short-tempered, as his friends had been obliging enough to point out.
Daregate and Thurgood had not been stupid enough to ask if there was trouble at home but Julian was aware they both suspected that was the case. There had been several hints that each was looking forward to meeting Sophy. Tonight was the first opportunity they would have to do so along with the rest of Society.
Julian’s mood lightened a bit as he reflected that Sophy would probably be very glad to see him by this time of the evening. He knew she expected to be a total failure socially, just as she had been five years ago. Having a husband by her side this time would undoubtedly give her some courage. Perhaps some of her gratitude would eventually lead her to see him in a more favorable light.
Julian had attended affairs at the Yelvertons before and he knew his way around the ballroom. Rather than submit to having himself announced by the butler, he found the staircase that led to a balcony, which overlooked the crowded salon.
He planted both hands against the heavily carved railing and surveyed the throng below. The ballroom was ablaze with lights. A band was playing in one corner and several couples were out on the floor. Handsomely liveried footmen laden with trays wove their way through the crush of elegantly dressed men and women. Laughter and conversation drifted upward.
Julian swept the room with his gaze, searching for Sophy. Fanny had advised him that her charge would be wearing a rose-colored gown. Sophy would undoubtedly be standing in one of the small groups of females that lined the wall near the windows.
“No, Julian, she’s not over there. She’s on the other side of the room. You can hardly see her because she’s not very tall. When she’s surrounded by a group of admiring males, as she is at the moment, she practically vanishes from sight.”
Julian turned his head to see his aunt coming toward him along the corridor. Lady Fanny was smiling her familiar laughing smile and looked quite devastating in silver-and-green satin.
“Good evening, Aunt.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “You’re looking in fine form this evening. Where’s Harry?”
“Cooling off with some lemonade out on the terrace. The heat was affecting her, poor dear. She will insist on wearing those heavy turbans. I was about to join her when I spotted you sneaking up here. So you came to see how your little wife was doing after all, hm?”
“I know a royal command when I hear one, madam. I’m here because you insisted. Now what’s all this about Sophy disappearing from sight?”
“See for yourself.” Fanny moved to the railing and proudly waved a hand to encompass the crowd below. “She has been surrounded since the moment we arrived. That was an hour ago.”
Julian glanced toward the far end of the ballroom, scowling as he tried to pick out a rose silk gown from among the rainbow of beautiful gowns on the floor below. Then a man who had been standing in a knot of other males shifted position for an instant and Julian caught sight of Sophy in the middle of the group.
“What the devil is she doing down there?” Julian snapped.
“Isn’t it obvious? She is well on her way to becoming a success, Julian.” Fanny smiled with satisfaction. “She is perfectly charming and has no trouble at all making conversation. So far she has prescribed a remedy for Lady Bixby’s nervous stomach, a poultice for Lord Thanton’s chest, and a
syrup for Lady Yelverton’s throat.”
“None of the men standing around her at the moment appear to be seeking medical advice,” Julian muttered.
“Quite right. When I left her side a short while ago she was just launching into a description of sheep-raising practices in Norfolk.”
“Damn it, I taught her everything she knows about raising sheep in Norfolk. She learned it on our honeymoon.”
“Well, then, you must be very pleased to know she’s putting the knowledge to good use socially.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed as he studied the males bunched around his wife. A tall, pale-haired figure dressed in unrelieved black caught his attention. “I see Waycott has lost no time in introducing himself.”
“Oh, dear. Is he in the group?” Fanny’s smile slipped as she bent forward to follow his gaze. The mischief faded from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Julian. I had not realized he was here tonight. But you must know she was bound to run into him sooner or later along with a few of Elizabeth’s other admirers.”
“I put Sophy in your care, Fanny, because I credited you with sufficient common sense to keep her out of trouble.”
“Keeping your wife out of trouble is your job, not mine,” Fanny retorted with asperity. “I am her friend and adviser, nothing more.”
Julian knew he was being reprimanded for his lack of attention to Sophy during the past week but he was in no mood to muster a defense. He was too concerned with the sight of the handsome blond god who was at that very moment handing a glass of lemonade to Sophy. He had seen that particular expression on Waycott’s face five years ago when the Viscount had begun hovering around Elizabeth.
Julian’s hand clenched at his side. With a great effort of will he forced himself to relax. Last time he had been a besotted fool who had not seen trouble coming until it was too late. This time he would move quickly and ruthlessly to head off disaster.
“Excuse me, Fanny. I do believe you are right. It is my job to protect Sophy and I had better get on with the task.”
Fanny swung around, her brows knitting in a concerned expression. “Julian, be careful how you go about things. Remember that Sophy is not Elizabeth.”
“Precisely. And I intend to see that she does not turn into Elizabeth.” Julian was already pacing down the length of the balcony toward the small side staircase that would take him to the ballroom floor.
Once on the lower level he immediately found himself confronted with a wall of people, several of whom paused to greet him and congratulate him on his recent marriage. Julian managed to nod civilly, accepting the well-meant compliments on his Countess and ignoring the veiled curiosity that often accompanied them.
His size was in his favor. He was taller than most of the other people in the room and it was not difficult to keep the cluster of males orbiting around Sophy in sight. Within a few minutes he had made his way to where she was holding court.
He spotted the drooping flower ornament in her coiffure at the same instant that Waycott reached out to adjust it.
“If I may be allowed to pluck this rose, madam?” Waycott said with smooth gallantry as he started to pull the dangling enameled flower from Sophy’s hair.
Julian shouldered his way past two young males who were watching the blond man enviously. “My privilege, Waycott.” He tweaked the ornament from a curl just as Sophy looked up in surprise. Waycott’s hand fell away, his pale blue eyes narrowed with silent anger.
“Julian.” Sophy smiled up at him with genuine delight. “I was afraid you would not be able to attend this evening. Isn’t it a lovely ball?”
“Lovely.” Julian surveyed her deliberately, aware of a violent sense of possessiveness. Fanny had turned her out well, he realized. Sophy’s dress was richly hued and perfectly cut to emphasize her slender figure. Her hair was done in an elegant series of curls piled high to show off her graceful nape.
Jewelry had been confined to a minimum he saw and it occurred to him that the Ravenwood emeralds would have looked very nice around Sophy’s throat. Unfortunately, he did not have them to give to her.
“I am having the most delightful time this evening,” Sophy went on cheerfully. “Everyone has been so attentive and welcoming. Have you met all my friends?” She indicated the group of hovering males with a slight nod of her head.
Julian swung a cold gaze around the small gathering and smiled laconically at each familiar face. He allowed his eyes to linger ever so briefly on Waycott’s amused, assessing expression. Then he turned pointedly away from the other man. “Why, yes, Sophy, I believe I have made the acquaintance of just about everyone present. And I’m certain that by now, you’ve had more than enough of their company.”
The unmistakable warning was not lost on any man in the surrounding circle, although Waycott seemed more amused than impressed. The others hastened to offer congratulations, however, and for a few minutes Julian was obliged to listen to a great deal of fulsome praise for his wife’s charm, herbal expertise, and conversational talents.
“Has a most commendable knowledge of farming techniques, for a female,” one middle-aged admirer announced. “Could talk to her for hours.”
“We were just discussing sheep,” a ruddy faced young man explained. “Lady Ravenwood has some interesting notions about breeding methods.”
“Fascinating, I’m sure,” Julian said. He inclined his head toward his wife. “I am beginning to realize I have married an expert on the subject.”
“You will recall I read widely, my lord,” Sophy murmured. “And lately I have taken the liberty of indulging myself in your library. You have an excellent collection of farm management books.”
“I shall have to see about replacing them with something of a more elevating nature. Religious tracts, perhaps.” Julian held out his hand. “In the meantime, I wonder if you can tear yourself away from such enthralling conversation long enough to favor your husband with a dance, madam?”
Sophy’s eyes shimmered with laughter. “But, of course, Julian. You will forgive me, gentlemen?” she asked politely as she put her hand on her husband’s arm.
“Of course,” Waycott murmured. “We all understand the call of duty, do we not? Return to us when you are ready to play again, Sophy.”
Julian fought back the urge to plant a fist square in the center of Waycott’s too-handsome features. He knew Sophy would never forgive him for causing that sort of scene and neither would Lady Yelverton. Seething inwardly, he took the only other course open to him. He coolly ignored Waycott’s jibe as he led Sophy out onto the floor.
“I get the impression you are enjoying yourself,” he said as Sophy slipped easily into his arms.
“Very much. Oh, Julian, it is all so different than it was last time. Tonight everyone seems so nice. I have danced more this evening than I did during my entire season five years ago.” Sophy’s cheeks were flushed and her fine eyes were alight with her obvious pleasure.
“I am glad your first important event as the Countess of Ravenwood has turned out to be such a success.” He put deliberate emphasis on her new title. He did not want her forgetting either her position or her obligation to that position.
Sophy’s smile turned thoughtful. “I expect it’s all going so well this time because I am married. I am now viewed as safe by every type of male, you see.”
Startled by the observation, Julian scowled. “What the devil do you mean by that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I am no longer angling for a husband. I have already snagged him, so to speak. Thus the men feel free to flirt and pay me court because they know perfectly well they are in no danger of being obliged to make an offer. It is all a lot of harmless fun now whereas five years ago they would have been at great risk of having to declare their intentions.”
Julian bit back an oath. “You are very much off the mark with that line of reasoning,” he assured her through his teeth. “Don’t be naive, Sophy. You are old enough to realize that your status as a married woman leaves you open to the most disho
norable sorts of approaches from men. It is precisely because you are safe that they can feel free to seduce you.”
Her gaze grew watchful although her smile stayed in place. “Come now, Julian. You overstate the case. I am in no danger of being seduced by any male present as far as I can tell.”
It took him a split second to realize she was lumping him in with every other man in the room. “Forgive me, madam,” he said very softly, “I had not realized you were so eager to be seduced. In fact, I had quite the opposite impression. My misunderstanding, I’m sure.”
“You frequently misunderstand me, my lord.” She fixed her gaze on his cravat. “But as it happens, I was only teasing.”
“Were you?”
“Yes, of course. Forgive me. I only meant to lighten your mood a bit. You seemed overly concerned by what is a totally nonexistent threat to my virtue. I assure you none of the men in that group made any improper advances or suggestions.”
Julian sighed. “The problem, Sophy, is that I am not convinced you would recognize an improper suggestion until matters had gone too far. You may be all of twenty-three years old but you have not had much experience with Society. It is little more than a glittering hunting ground and an attractive, naive, safely married young woman such as yourself is frequently viewed as a grand prize.”
She stiffened in his arms, her eyes narrowing. “Please do not be condescending, Julian. I am not that naive. I assure you I have no intention of allowing myself to be seduced by any of your friends.”
“Unfortunately, my dear, that still leaves all my enemies.”
SEVEN
Sophy paced her bedchamber later that night, the events of the evening spinning through her head. It had all been very exciting and wonderfully different from the way things had been five years ago when she had had her one and only fling at Society.
She was well aware that her new status as Ravenwood’s wife had a lot to do with the attention she received, but she honestly felt she had held her own conversationally. At twenty-three she had far more self-confidence than she’d had at eighteen, for one thing. In addition, she had not been painfully conscious of being on display in a marriage mart the way she had been five years ago. Tonight she had been able to relax and enjoy herself. Everything had gone very well until Julian had arrived.