by Amanda Quick
Julian’s eyes narrowed. “Honor, madam?”
“If the situation were reversed, my lord, you would have handled the matter as I did. You cannot deny it.”
“If the situation were reversed?” he repeated blankly. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“You understand me quite well, I am certain, my lord.” Sophy realized she was hovering between tears and fury. It was a volatile combination of emotions. “If some man had approached you with a threat to print the details of a … a past indiscretion of mine, you would have called him out. You know you would have done exactly what I did. You cannot deny it.”
“Sophy, that’s ludicrous,” Julian snapped. “This is hardly the same sort of situation. Don’t you dare draw any parallels between your reprehensible actions this morning and what you imagine I would have done in similar circumstances.”
“Why not? Am I to be denied the chance to meet the dictates of honor just because I am a female?”
“Yes, damn it. I mean, no. By God, do not try to confuse the issue. Honor does not require from you what it would require from me in the same situation and you damn well know it.”
“It seems to me only fair that I be entitled to live up to the same code as you, my lord.”
“Only fair? Fairness has nothing to do with this.”
“Am I to have no recourse in such situations, my lord?” Sophy demanded tightly. “No way to avenge myself? No way to settle a matter of honor?”
“Sophy, pay attention to me. As your husband it is my duty to avenge you, should that be required. And I am telling you here and now that it had better not ever be required. There is, however, no reversal of the situation. It is inconceivable.”
“Well, you had best try to conceive of it, my lord, for that is precisely what happened. Nor were you the one called upon to deal with it. I was and I did the honorable thing. I do not see how you can fault me in this, Julian.”
He stared at her, looking thoroughly taken aback for a few seconds before recovering himself. “Not fault you? Sophy, what you did today was outrageous and disgraceful. It demonstrates a sad want of sound judgment. It was foolhardy and extremely dangerous. Not fault you? Sophy, those pistols are not toys, they are Manton’s finest.”
“I am well aware of that, my lord. Furthermore, I knew what I was doing with them. I told you my grandfather taught me how to use his pistols.”
“You could have been killed, your little idiot.” Julian shot to his feet and came around to the front of the desk. He leaned back against it, crossing one booted foot over the other. His expression was very close to savage. “Did you think about that, Sophy? Did you think about the risk you were taking? Did it cross your mind that you might well be dead by now? Or a murderess? Dueling is against the law, you know. Or was it all just a game to you?”
“I assure you, it was no game, my lord. I was—” Sophy broke off, swallowing uncomfortably as memories of the fear returned. She looked away from Julian’s fierce eyes. “I was quite frightened, to be perfectly honest.”
Julian swore softly. “You think you were frightened,” he muttered under his breath before he said more distinctly, “What about the potential scandal, Sophy? Did you consider that?”
She kept her eyes averted. “We took steps to ensure that there would be no scandal.”
“I see. And just how were you planning to explain a bullet wound, my dear? Or a dead prostitute in Leighton Field?”
“Julian, please, you’ve said enough.”
“Enough?” Julian’s voice was suddenly soft and dangerous. “Sophy, I assure you, I have hardly begun.”
“Well, I do not see that I am obliged to listen to any more of your lectures on the subject.” Sophy jumped to her feet, blinking back the tears that trembled on her lashes. “It is obvious you do not understand. Harry is quite right when she says that men are seriously lacking in the ability to comprehend things that are important to a woman.”
“What do I fail to understand? The fact that you behaved in a shocking manner when I have specifically told you that the one thing I will not tolerate is gossip about you?”
“There will be no gossip.”
“That’s what you think. I did my best to threaten Featherstone this morning, but there is absolutely no guarantee she will keep her mouth shut.”
“She will. She said she would.”
“Damn it, Sophy, surely you are not so naive as to put any faith in the word of a professional harlot?”
“As far as I can tell, she is a woman of honor. She gave me her word there would be no mention of your name in print and she said she would not discuss the events of this morning. That is good enough for me.”
“Then you are a fool. And even if Featherstone keeps quiet, what about the young boy who drove you to Leighton Field? What about the woman in the black veil? What control do you have over either of them?”
“They will not speak of this,” Sophy said.
“You mean you hope they will not speak of it.”
“They were my seconds. They will honor their word not to say anything about what happened this morning.”
“Damn it, are you telling me that they were both friends of yours?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Including the red-haired lad? Where on earth would you meet a young man of that class and get to know him well enough to—” Julian broke off, swearing again. “I believe I perceive the truth at last. It was not a young man at all who was driving your carriage, was it, madam? Another young woman dressed in mens’ clothes, I presume. Good lord. A whole generation of females is running wild.”
“If women occasionally seem a bit wild, my lord, it is almost certainly because men have driven them to it. Be that as it may, I do not intend to discuss my friends’ roles in all this.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do. They helped you arrange the meeting at Leighton Field?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God one of them had the sense to come to me this morning, although it would have been a great deal more accommodating of her to have sent word of this matter earlier. As it was, I barely arrived at Leighton Field in time. What are their names, Sophy?”
Sophy’s nails bit into her palms. “You must realize I cannot tell you, my lord.”
“The dictates of honor again, my dear?” His mouth curved grimly.
“Do not laugh at me, Julian. That is the one thing I will not tolerate from you. As you have observed, I came close to getting killed this morning because of you. The least you could do is refrain from finding it all laughable.”
“You think I am laughing?” Julian pushed away from the desk and stalked to the window. Bracing one hand against the frame he turned his back to her and stared out into the small garden. “I assure you I find absolutely nothing in this whole mess the least amusing. I have spent the past few hours trying to decide what to do with you, Sophy.”
“Such cogitation is probably bad for your liver, my lord.”
“Well, it hasn’t done my digestion any good, I’ll admit. The only reason you are not already on your way to Ravenwood or Eslington Park is because your sudden absence would only create more talk. We must all act as if nothing has happened. It is the only hope. Thus, you will be allowed to remain here in London. However, you will not leave this house again unless you are escorted by either myself or my aunt. And as for your seconds, you are forbidden to see them again. You obviously cannot be trusted to choose your friends wisely.”
At that final pronouncement, Sophy exploded in fury. It was all too much. The night of passion and fearful anticipation, the meeting at dawn with Charlotte Featherstone, Julian’s arrogant indignation. It was more than Sophy could bear. For the first time in her adult life she completely lost her temper.
“No, damn you, Ravenwood, you go too far. You will not tell me who I can and cannot see.”
He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over her with cold detachment. “You think not, madam?”
> “I will not allow you to do so.” Seething with frustration and rage, Sophy confronted him proudly. “I did not marry you in order to become your prisoner.”
“Really?” he asked roughly. “Then why did you marry me, madam?”
“I married you because I love you,” Sophy cried passionately. “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen years old, fool that I am.”
“Sophy, what the hell are you saying?”
The towering rage consumed her completely. She was beyond logic or reason. “Furthermore, you cannot punish me for what occurred this morning because it was all your fault in the first place.”
“My fault?” he roared, losing a good measure of his own unnatural calm.
“If you had not written those love letters to Charlotte Featherstone none of this would have happened.”
“What love letters?” Julian snarled.
“The ones you wrote to her during the course of your affair with her. The ones she threatened to publish in her Memoirs. I could not endure it, Julian. Don’t you see? I could not bear to have the whole world see the beautiful love letters you had written to your mistress when I have not received so much as a shopping list from you. You may scoff all you wish, but I, too, have my pride.”
Julian was staring at her. “Is that what Featherstone threatened? To print old love letters of mine?”
“Yes, damn you. You sent love letters to a mistress and yet you cannot be bothered to give your wife the smallest token of your affection. But I suppose that is perfectly understandable when one considers the fact that you have no affection for me.”
“For God’s sake, Sophy, I was a very young man when I first met Charlotte Featherstone. I may or may not have scribbled a note or two to her. The truth is, I barely recall the entire affair. In any event, you would do well to keep in mind that very young men occasionally put into writing passing fancies that are far better left unwritten. Such fancies are meaningless, I assure you.”
“Oh, I believe you, my lord.”
“Sophy, under normal circumstances, I would never discuss a woman such as Featherstone with you. But given the bizarre situation in which we find ourselves, allow me to explain something very clearly. There is not a great degree of affection involved on either side in the sort of relationship a man has with a woman like Featherstone. It is a matter of business for the woman and convenience for the man.”
“Such a relationship sounds very much like a marriage, my lord, except, of course, that a wife does not have the luxury of handling her own business affairs the way a woman of the demimonde does.”
“Damn it, Sophy, there is a world of difference between your situation and Featherstone’s.” Julian made an obvious effort to hold onto his self-control.
“Is there, my lord? I will allow that, unless you manage to squander your fortune, I shall probably not have to worry overmuch about my pension the way Charlotte must. But other than that, I am not certain I am as well off as Charlotte.”
“You’ve lost your senses, Sophy. You’re becoming irrational.”
“And you are utterly impossible, my lord.” Her rage was burning itself out. Sophy was suddenly aware of being unutterably weary. “There is no dealing with such arrogance. I do not know why I bother to try.”
“You find me arrogant? Believe me, Sophy, that is nothing compared to what I was this morning when I looked out your window and saw you climbing into that closed carriage.”
There was a new, raw edge in his words that was alarming. Sophy was momentarily distracted by it. “I did not realize you had seen me leave the house.”
“Do you know what I thought when I saw you step into that carriage?” Julian’s gaze was emerald hard.
“I imagine you were concerned, my lord?”
“Goddamn it, Sophy, I thought you were leaving with your lover.”
She stared at him. “Lover? What lover?”
“You may be assured that was one of the many questions I asked myself as I rode after you. I did not even know which bastard among all the bastards in London was taking you away.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Julian, that was a perfectly stupid conclusion for you to arrive at.”
“Was it?”
“It most certainly was. What on earth would I want with another man? I cannot seem to handle the one I’ve got.” She swung around and went to the door.
“Sophy, stop right where you are. Where do you think you’re going? I’m not through with you.”
“But I am quite through with you, my lord. Through with being berated for trying to do the honorable thing. Through with trying to make you fall in love with me. Through with any attempt to create a marriage based on mutual respect and affection.”
“Damn it, Sophy.”
“Do not worry, my lord. I have learned my lesson. From now on you will have exactly the sort of marriage you desire. I will endeavor to stay out of your way. I shall occupy myself with other more important matters—matters which I should have put first right from the start.”
“Will you, indeed?” he snarled. “And what about this great love you say you have for me?”
“You need not worry. I will not speak of it again. I realize to do so would only embarrass you and further humiliate me. I assure you, I have been humiliated enough by you to last me a lifetime.”
Julian’s expression softened slightly. “Sophy, my dear, come back here and be seated. I have much to say to you.”
“I do not wish to listen to any more of your tiresome lectures. Do you know something, Julian? I find your male code of honor to be quite silly. Standing twenty paces apart in the cold air of dawn while blazing away at one another with pistols is a senseless way to resolve an argument.”
“On that point, I assure you we are in complete agreement, madam.”
“I doubt it. You would have gone through with it without questioning the entire process. Charlotte and I, on the other hand, discussed the subject at some length.”
“You stood there talking about it?” Julian asked in amazement.
“Of course we did. We are women, my lord, and thus eminently more suited than men to an intellectual discussion of such issues. We had just been informed that an apology would resolve everything honorably and thereby make any shooting unnecessary when you had to come thundering up out of nowhere and proceed to interfere in something that was none of your business.”
Julian groaned. “I do not believe this. Featherstone was going to apologize to you?”
“Yes, I believe she was. She is a woman of honor and she recognized that she owed me an apology. And I will tell you something, my lord, she was right when she said that no man was worth getting up at such an ungodly hour for the purpose of risking a bullet.”
Sophy let herself out of the library and closed the door very quietly behind her. She told herself to take what satisfaction she could from having had the exit line this time. It was all she was going to get from the whole miserable affair.
Tears burned in her eyes. She dashed upstairs and headed for her room to shed them in solitude.
A long time later, she lifted her head from her folded arms, went to the basin to wash her face and then sat down at her writing table. Picking up a pen, she adjusted a sheet of paper in front of her and composed one more letter to Charlotte Featherstone.
Dear Miss C. F.:
Enclosed please find the sum of two hundred pounds. I do not send this to you because of your promise to refrain from printing certain letters; rather because I do feel quite strongly that your many admirers owe you the same consideration they owe their wives. After all, they seem to have enjoyed the same sort of relationship with you that they have with the women they marry. Thus, they have an obligation to provide you with a pension. The enclosed draft is our mutual friend’s share of the pension owed to you. I wish you good luck with your cottage in Bath.
Yours,
S.
Sophy reread the note and sealed it. She would give it to Anne to deliver. Anne seemed to
know how to handle that sort of thing.
And that ended the whole fiasco, Sophy thought as she leaned back in her chair. She had told Julian the truth. She had, indeed, learned a valuable lesson this morning. There was no point trying to win her husband’s respect by living up to his masculine code of honor.
And she already knew she stood little chance of winning his love.
All in all there did not seem to be much point in spending any more time working on her marriage. It was quite hopeless to try to alter the rules Julian had laid down for it. She was trapped in this velvet prison and she would have to make the best of it. From now on she would go her own way and live her own life. She and Julian would meet occasionally at routs and balls and in the bedchamber.
She would undertake to give him his heir and he, in return, would see that she was well dressed and well fed and well housed for the rest of her life. It was not a bad bargain, she reflected, just a very lonely, empty one.
It did not promise to be the kind of marriage she had longed for but at least she was finally facing reality, Sophy decided. And, she reminded herself as she got to her feet, she had other things to do here in London. She had wasted enough time trying to win Julian’s love and affection. He had none to give.
And, as she had told Julian, she had another project to keep her occupied. It was past time she gave her full attention to the matter of finding her sister’s seducer.
Resolved to devote herself to that task, Sophy went to the wardrobe to examine the gypsy costume she planned to wear that evening to Lady Musgrove’s masquerade ball. She stood contemplating the colorful gown, scarf and mask for some time and then she glanced at her small jewelry case.
She needed a plan of action, a way to draw out those who might know something about the black ring.
Inspiration struck suddenly. What better way to start her quest for the truth than to wear the ring at a masquerade ball where her own identity was a secret? It would be interesting to see if anyone noticed the ring and commented on it. If so, she might begin to pick up a few clues about its previous owner.