by Amanda Quick
Julian nodded. “I would appreciate that, Daregate. Let me know if you get wind of anything.”
“I’ll do that, Ravenwood. At least it will give me something interesting to do for a change. One can get very bored with gaming.”
“Don’t see how,” Thurgood muttered. “Not as long as one wins as frequently as you do.”
Much later that night Julian sent Knapton out of his bedchamber and finished his own preparations for bed. Sophy had been home for some time, according to Guppy. She would be sound asleep by now.
Shrugging into his dressing gown, Julian picked up the diamond bracelet and the other gift he had purchased late that afternoon after the bracelet had been rejected. He collected the note he had painstakingly written to accompany the presents and started toward the connecting door.
At the last moment he remembered the gypsy scarf. Smiling, he went back to the wardrobe and found the scarf in the pocket of the black cloak.
He walked into Sophy’s darkened bedchamber and put the bracelet, the other package and the note and scarf down on the bedside table. Then he took off his dressing gown and climbed into bed beside his sleeping wife.
When he put his hand on her breast she turned to him, sighing softly in her sleep and snuggled close. Julian woke her slowly with long, deep kisses that drew forth the full response of her body. Everything he had learned about her on the two previous occasions when he had made love to her, he employed now. She responded as he had hoped she would. By the time her lashes fluttered open, Sophy was already clinging to his shoulders and parting her legs for him.
“Julian?”
“Who else?” he muttered huskily as he slowly sank deeply into her damp warmth. “Do you have room in your arms tonight for a man who seeks to change his luck?”
“Oh, Julian.”
“Tell me of your love, sweetheart,” he coaxed as she lifted her hips to meet his slow, careful thrust. She felt so good, he thought. So perfect, as if she had been fashioned just for him. “Tell me how much you love me, Sophy. Say the words again.”
But Sophy was already convulsing gently under him and there were no coherent words to be had from her, only the soft, vibrant cries of her release.
Julian shuddered heavily, pouring himself into her, filling her, losing himself in her.
When he finally raised his head a long time later he saw that Sophy had slipped back into a deep sleep.
Another time, he promised himself as he drifted off, another time he would have the words of love from her.
THIRTEEN
When Sophy opened her eyes the next morning the first thing she saw was the scarf of her gypsy costume draped across the pillow next to her. The diamond bracelet Julian had given her yesterday was lying on top of the scarf, its rows of silver-white stones sparkling in the early light. Under both was a large package wrapped in paper. A note had been tucked between the bracelet and the scarf.
Sophy sat up slowly, her eyes never leaving the small offering on the pillow. So Julian had known who she was last night at the masquerade ball. Had he been teasing her with all that talk about wanting to become lucky at love or had he been trying to tell her something, she wondered.
She reached over and plucked the note off the pillow. Unfolding it, she quickly read the short message inside.
My Dearest Wife:
I was told last night by a reliable source that my fortune was in my own hands. But that is not altogether true. Whether or not he desires it, a man’s fortune as well as his honor, frequently rest in the hands of his wife. I am convinced that in my case both of these valuable possessions are safe with you. I have no talent for scribbling sonnets or poems but I would have you wear this bracelet occasionally as a token of my esteem. And, perhaps, when you have occasion to examine the other small gift, you will think of me.
Julian’s initials were scrawled boldly across the bottom of the crisp page. Sophy slowly refolded the note and stared at the glittering diamond bracelet. Esteem was not exactly love but she supposed it did imply some degree of affection.
Memories of Julian’s heat and strength enveloping her in the darkness last night swept through her. She told herself not to be misled by the passion he aroused in her. Passion was not love, as Amelia had discovered to her cost.
But she had more than passion from Julian, if this note was to be believed, Sophy told herself. She was unable to quell the burst of hope that welled up within her. Esteem implied respect, she decided. Julian might be angry about the incident at dawn yesterday, but perhaps he was trying to tell her he respected her in some ways.
She got out of bed and carefully placed the bracelet in her jewelry box next to Amelia’s black ring. She must be realistic about her marriage, Sophy told herself firmly. Passion and esteem were all very well as far as they went but they were not enough. Julian had made it clear last night that he wanted her to trust him with her love but he had also made it clear he would never trust any woman with his own heart.
As she turned away from the jewelry case she remembered the other package on the bed. Full of curiosity, she went back across the room, picked up the heavy gift, and hefted it. It felt like a book, she decided and that thought excited her in a way the bracelet had failed to do. Eagerly she unwrapped the brown paper covering.
Joy bubbled up inside her as she read the author’s name on the impressive, leather-bound volume in her hands. She could not believe it. Julian had given her a magnificent copy of Nicholas Culpeper’s famous herbal, English Physician. She could hardly wait to show it to Old Bess. It was a complete guide to all the helpful herbs and plants that were native to England.
Sophy flew across the room to ring for Mary. When the girl knocked at the door a few minutes later she gaped to see her mistress already half-dressed.
“Here, ma’am, what’s the rush? Let me help you. Oh, do be careful, ma’am or you’ll split the fine seams of that dress.” Mary bustled about, taking charge of the dressing process. “Is somethin’ amiss?”
“No, no, Mary, nothing is amiss. Is his lordship still in the house?” Sophy leaned down to tug on her soft leather slippers.
“Yes, ma’am, I believe he’s in the library. Shall I send word you wish to see him?”
“I’ll tell him myself. That’s fine, Mary. I’m dressed. You may go now.”
Mary looked at her in shock. “Impossible. I can’t let you go out o’ this room with your hair down like that ma’am. It wouldn’t be right. Sit still for a minute and I’ll put it up for you.”
Sophy surrendered, muttering impatiently as Mary put up her hair with two silver combs and several strategically placed pins. When the last curl was in place, she bounded up from the dressing table chair, grabbed the precious herbal and practically ran out the door, down the hall and down the stairs.
Arriving breathless at the library door, she knocked once and then burst into the room without waiting for a response.
“Julian. Thank you. Thank you so much. You are so kind. I do not know how to convey my gratitude. This is the finest gift anyone has ever given me, my lord. You are the most generous husband in England. No, the most generous husband in the whole world.”
Julian slowly closed the journal he was working on and got cautiously to his feet. His bemused eyes went first to her bare wrist and then to the book Sophy was clutching to her bosom. “I see no sign of the bracelet so I assume it is the Culpeper that is causing all this commotion?”
“Oh, yes, Julian. It is magnificent. You are magnificent. How can I ever thank you?” Impulsively Sophy darted across the room to stand on tiptoe in front of him. Still holding the book very tightly she gave her husband a quick, shy kiss and then stepped back. “Thank you, my lord. I shall treasure this book for my entire life. And I promise I will be exactly the sort of wife you want. I will not cause you any more trouble at all. Ever.”
With a last brilliant smile, Sophy turned and hurried from the room, unaware of the silver comb that slipped from her hair and fell to the carpet.
Julian watched the door close behind her and then, very thoughtfully, he touched his cheek where Sophy had kissed him. It was, he realized, the first spontaneous caress she had ever given him. He walked across the room and picked up the silver comb. Smiling very slightly, he carried it back to his desk and put it down where he could see it as he worked.
The Culpeper, he decided with deep satisfaction, had obviously been a stroke of genius. He owed Fanny for the recommendation and he made a mental note to thank her. His smile broadened as he acknowledged ruefully that he could have saved the six thousand pounds he’d spent on the bracelet. Knowing Sophy, she would probably lose it the first time she wore it—if she remembered to wear it.
Sophy was in high spirits that afternoon when she sent a message to Anne and Jane that she wished to see them. They arrived around three. Anne, vibrant in a melon-colored gown, swept into the drawing room with her customary energy and enthusiasm. She was followed by a more sedately dressed Jane. Both women undid the strings of their bonnets as they seated themselves and looked at their hostess with expectation.
“Wasn’t last night lovely?” Anne said cheerfully as tea was served. “I cannot tell you how much I enjoy masquerades.”
“That’s because you take great pleasure in fooling others,” Jane observed. “Especially men. One of these days your liking for that pastime will get you into serious trouble.”
“Rubbish. Pay no attention to her, Sophy. She is in one of her lecturing moods. Now, tell us why you wished to see us on such short notice. I do hope you have some excitement for us.”
“Personally,” Jane remarked, picking up her cup and saucer, “I would prefer a bit of peace and quiet for a while.”
“As it happens, I have a very serious matter to discuss with both of you. Relax, Jane. I do not seek any further excitement. Just a few answers.” Sophy picked up the muslin handkerchief in which she had wrapped the black ring. She untied the knot and let the fabric fall away to reveal the contents.
Jane leaned forward curiously. “What a strangely designed ring.”
Anne reached out to touch the embossed surface. “Very odd. And very unpleasant looking. Do not tell me your husband gave you this thing? I would have thought Ravenwood had better taste than that.”
“No. It belonged to my sister.” Sophy stared down at the ring lying in her palm. “It was given to her by a man. It is my goal to find him. As far as I am concerned, he is guilty of murder.” She told them the full story in short, crisp sentences.
When she was finished, Anne and Jane sat staring at her for a long moment. Predictably enough it was Jane who responded first.
“If what you say is true, the man who gave your sister that ring is most certainly a monster but I do not see what you can do, even if you manage to identify him. There are, unfortunately, many such monsters running around Society and they all get away with murder.”
Sophy’s chin lifted. “I intend to confront him with his own evil. I want him to know that I am aware of who and what he is.”
“That could be very dangerous,” Jane said. “Or, at the very least, embarrassing. You can prove nothing. He will simply scoff at your accusations.”
“Yes, but he will be forced to realize that the Countess of Ravenwood knows who he is,” Anne said thoughtfully. “Sophy is not without some power these days. She is becoming quite popular, you know. And she has the rather sizable degree of influence that comes from being Ravenwood’s wife. If she chose to exercise a measure of her power she might very well be able to ruin the owner of that ring socially. That would be a serious punishment for any man of the ton.”
“Assuming he belongs to polite Society,” Sophy amended. “I know nothing about him, except that he was most likely one of Elizabeth’s lovers.”
Jane sighed. “Gossip has it that is a very long list.”
“It can be shortened to include only the man who wore this ring,” Sophy said.
“But first we must find out something about it. How do we go about it?” Anne asked, her enthusiasm for the project obviously growing rapidly.
“Wait, both of you,” Jane implored quickly. “Think before you leap into another adventure. Sophy, you have only just recently experienced Ravenwood’s anger. If you ask me, you got off quite lightly. Are you really so eager to arouse his wrath all over again?”
“This has nothing to do with Ravenwood,” Sophy said forcefully. Then she smiled, remembering the herbal. “Besides, he has forgiven me for what happened yesterday morning.”
Jane looked at her, astonished. “Has he really? If so, then he is far more tolerant than his reputation would lead one to believe.”
“My husband is not the devil everyone thinks him,” Sophy said coolly. “But to return to the business of finding the owner of the ring. The fact is, I do not intend to bother Ravenwood with this. It is a task I set for myself before I ever agreed to marry him. Lately I have foolishly allowed myself to become distracted by … by other things. But I am finished with those unimportant matters now and I am going to get on with this.”
Anne and Jane were both studying her intently.
“You are very serious about this, aren’t you?” Jane finally asked.
“Finding the owner of this ring is the most important task in my life at the moment. It is a goal I have set for myself.” Sophy looked at her friends. “This time I cannot take the chance that one of you might feel obliged to warn Ravenwood about what I am doing. If you feel you cannot support me fully, I ask that you leave now.”
“I would not dream of leaving you to conduct such a search alone,” Anne declared.
“Jane?” Sophy smiled gently. “I will understand if you feel you should not be a part of this.”
Jane’s mouth thinned. “You have cause to question my loyalty, Sophy. I do not blame you. But I would like to prove to you that I truly am your friend. I will help you in this.”
“Good. Then it is settled.” Sophy held out her hand. “Let us seal the bargain.”
Solemnly they all three clasped hands in a silent pledge and then they sat back to stare at the ring.
“Where do we begin?” Anne finally asked after a moment’s close thought.
“We began last night,” Sophy said and told them about the man in the black hooded cape and mask.
Jane’s eyes were full of shock. “He recognized the ring? Warned you about it? Dear God, Sophy, why did you not tell us?”
“I did not want to say anything until I had your solemn promise to support me in this endeavor.”
“Sophy, this means there really is something mysterious to discover about this ring.” Anne picked it up and examined it closely. “Are you certain your dancing partner said nothing else? Just that the wearer could count on a most unusual type of excitement?”
“Whatever that means. He said we would meet again and then he left.”
“Thank heavens you were wearing a disguise,” Jane said with great depth of feeling. “Now that you know there is, indeed, some mystery attached to the ring, you must not wear it in public.”
Sophy frowned. “I agree I probably ought not to wear it until we learn more about it. However, if wearing it publicly is the only way to uncover the mystery, then I may have to do so.”
“No,” Anne said, showing unusual caution. “I agree with Jane. You must not wear it. At least not without consulting us first. Do you promise?”
Sophy hesitated, glancing from one concerned face to the other. “Very well,” she agreed reluctantly. “I will talk to you two first before wearing the ring again. Now, then, we must think about this whole matter and decide just what information we have.”
“The man in the black cape implied the ring was known to certain people such as himself,” Anne said slowly. “Which implies a club or group of some sort.”
“There is also the implication that there is more than one ring,” Sophy said, trying to remember the man’s exact words. “Perhaps it is the symbol of a secret society.”
J
ane shuddered. “I do not like the sound of this.”
“But what kind of society?” Anne asked quickly, ignoring her friend’s qualms. “We need to ascertain its goals before we can figure out what sort of man would wear such a ring.”
“Perhaps we can learn what type of secret society would use this sort of jewelry if we can discover the meaning of the symbols embossed on the ring.” Sophy turned the black band of metal between her fingers, studying the triangle and the animal head. “But how do we go about doing that?”
There was a long pause before Jane spoke up with obvious reluctance. “I can think of one place to start.” Sophy looked at her in surprise. “Where?”
“Lady Fanny’s library.”
* * *
Three days later Sophy flew down the stairs, her bonnet in one hand and her reticule in the other. She hurried across the hall and was almost to the door, which a footman was hastening to open, when Julian appeared in the doorway of the library. She knew at once from the cool intent expression in his eyes that he wanted to speak to her. She stifled a groan and stopped long enough to give him a bright smile.
“Good afternoon, my lord. I see you are busily at work today,” she said smoothly.
Julian folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. “Going out again, Sophy?”
“Yes, my lord.” Sophy put the bonnet on her head and started to tie the ribbons. “As it happens, I’ve promised Lady Fanny and Harriette that I would visit them this afternoon.”
“You’ve called on them every afternoon this week.”
“Only the past three afternoons, my lord.”
He inclined his head. “I beg your pardon. I’m sure you’re right. It probably has been only the past three afternoons. I undoubtedly lost count because it seems that every time I’ve suggested we go riding or take in an exhibition this week you’ve been flying out the door.”
“Life here in town is very hectic, my lord.”
“Quite a change from the country, isn’t it?”