by Amanda Quick
Julian watched her in brooding silence for a long moment. “Are things really so bad, Sophy?”
“Yes, my lord, they are. On top of everything else, I have reason to believe I may be breeding.” She did not look back at him as she fled toward the screen at the other end of the room.
“Sophy!” Julian surged up off the bed and went after her. “What did you just say?”
Sophy sniffed back a few more of the wretched tears as she stood on the other side of the screen and tugged on her dressing gown. “I am quite certain you heard me.”
Julian swept the screen aside, ignoring it as it clattered to the carpet. His gaze riveted on her stubbornly averted face. “You are with child?”
“Quite possibly. I realized this week that it has been much too long since my last monthly flux. I will not know for certain for a while longer, but I suspect I am, indeed, carrying your babe. If so, you should be quite content, my lord. Here I am pregnant and off to the country where I cannot cause any further disturbance in your life. You will have gotten everything you wanted out of this marriage. An heir and no trouble. I trust you will be satisfied.”
“Sophy, I don’t know what to say.” Julian raked a hand through his hair. “If what you suspect is true, then I cannot deny I am well pleased. But I had hoped … that is, I had thought you would perhaps—” He broke off and fumbled awkwardly for the rest of his sentence. “I would have had you happier about the whole thing,” he finally managed lamely.
Sophy glared at him from under her brows, the last of her tears drying up in the face of his typical male arrogance. “You assumed, no doubt, that the prospect of impending motherhood would turn me into a sweet-tempered, contented wife? One who would be quite willing to give up all her personal aspirations in favor of devoting herself full time to running your country houses and rearing your children?”
Julian had the grace to redden. “I had hoped it would make you more content, yes. Please believe me, I would have you happy in this marriage, Sophy.”
“Oh, do go away, Julian. I want a bath and a rest.” Fresh tears burned in her eyes. “There is much to be done if I am to be carted off to Hampshire tomorrow.”
“Sophy.” Julian made no move to leave the bedchamber. He stood there watching her with an oddly helpless expression. “Sophy, please do not cry.” He opened his arms.
Sophy glowered at him a moment longer through her watery eyes, hating this new lack of control over her emotions. Then, with a gulping sob she walked straight into Julian’s arms. They closed tightly around her as she proceeded to dampen his bare chest with her tears.
Julian held her until the storm subsided. He did not try to cheer her or soothe her or scold her. He simply folded her tightly against his strength and kept her there until the last of the wrenching sobs had faded.
Sophy recovered herself slowly, aware of the comforting warmth of Julian’s embrace. It was the first time he had ever held her other than to kiss or to make love to her, she realized, the first time he had offered her something other than passion. She did not move for a long while, savoring the feel of his big palm moving soothingly up and down her spine.
Finally, with great reluctance, she pushed herself away from him. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I do not understand myself lately. I assure you, I hardly ever cry.” She did not look at him as she stepped back. Instead she busied herself groping for the handkerchief that ought to have been in the pocket of her dressing gown. When she could not locate it, she muttered a small oath.
“Is this what you are looking for?” Julian scooped up the square of embroidered cotton from where it had fallen on the carpet.
Chagrined at the thought that she could not even manage to keep a handkerchief properly placed in her pocket, Sophy snatched it from his hand. “Yes, thank you.”
“Allow me to get you a fresh one.” He walked over to her dressing table and found another handkerchief.
When he handed it to her with an air of grave concern she blew into it with great energy, wadded it up and shoved it into her pocket. “Thank you, my lord. Please excuse such a depressing display of emotion. I do not know what came over me. Now, I really must have my bath. If you will forgive me, I have a great many details to attend to.”
“Yes, Sophy,” Julian said with a sigh. “I will forgive you. I only pray that someday you will forgive me.” He picked up his clothes and walked out of the room without another word.
Much later that night Julian sat alone in the library, legs outstretched before him, a bottle of claret on the table beside him. He was in a devil of a mood and he knew it. The house was quiet now for the first time in hours. Up until a short time ago it had been busy with the bustle of Sophy’s travel preparations. The commotion had depressed him. It was going to be lonely here without her.
Julian helped himself to another glass of claret and wondered if Sophy was crying herself to sleep. He had felt like a brute this morning when he had told her he was sending her back to Ravenwood Abbey but he also knew he had no choice. Once he had learned what she was up to, he’d had no option but to get her out of the city. She was wading into dangerous waters and she had no knowledge of how to keep herself from drowning.
Julian swallowed a mouthful of claret and speculated on whether or not he ought to feel guilty for the way he had manipulated Sophy that morning. At the very beginning of the confrontation in her bedchamber he had quickly realized there was no way she would respond to logical arguments about her own safety. Her personal sense of honor overrode such considerations. And he could not bring himself to use physical force to get her to do the reasonable thing.
He had, therefore, fallen back on the only other approach he could think of even though he had not been at all certain it would be effective. He had used her feelings for him to maneuver her into doing as he wished.
It had been a heady shock to watch her stalwart defenses crumple so swiftly when he had warned her that her actions might force him to risk his life in a duel. She must truly be in love with him. No other emotion could be powerful enough to overcome her deep sense of honor. For his sake she had abandoned her quest for vengeance.
Julian felt at once humbled by the obvious strength of her feelings and simultaneously exultant. There was no doubt but that Sophy had given herself to him—belonged to him, in ways that, until now, he had never believed possible.
But even as he gloried in that realization, he was grimly aware that she was very unhappy and he was the cause. It is just so blasted unfair. Nothing is going the way I had thought it would when I agreed to marry you.
Now, on top of everything else, she was quite possibly pregnant. He winced as he recalled that one of the things she had asked of him was not to be rushed into childbed.
Julian sank lower in the chair and wondered if he would ever be able to redeem himself in Sophy’s eyes. It seemed in that moment that he had done everything wrong, right from the beginning. How did a man go about convincing his wife that he was worthy of her love? he asked himself. It was a problem he had not ever imagined having to solve and after all that had passed between himself and Sophy there was every chance the tangle could never be resolved.
The door opened behind him. Julian did not glance around the wings of his chair. “Go on to bed, Guppy and send the rest of the staff to their rooms. I intend to stay in here a while and there is no point in any of you staying up. I will see to the candles.”
“I have already told Guppy and the rest of the staff to retire for the night,” Sophy said, quietly closing the door.
Julian froze at the sound of her voice. Then he slowly put down his glass and got to his feet to face her. She looked very slender and fragile in a pink, high-waisted gown. It was difficult to believe she might be pregnant, Julian thought. Her hair was piled high on her head and anchored with a ribbon that was already beginning to untie itself. She smiled her gentle, beguiling smile.
“I thought you would be in bed by now,” Julian said gruffly. He wondered at her mood. She w
as not crying, nor did she appear about to argue or scold or plead. “You need rest for your journey.”
“I came to say good-bye to you, Julian.” She halted in front of him, her eyes luminous.
A rush of relief went through him. Apparently she was no longer as distraught as she had been earlier. “I will be joining you soon,” he promised.
“Good. I shall miss you.” She traced the folds of his carefully folded cravat. “But I would not have us part with ill feelings.”
“I assure you, there are no ill feelings. At least not on my part. I only want what is best for you. You must believe that, Sophy.”
“I realize that. You are very thickheaded at times and stubborn and arrogant but I know you truly believe you are trying to protect me. But most importantly, I will not have you risking your life for me.”
“Sophy? What are you doing?” He watched in amazement as she began untying the snowy white cravat. “Sophy, I swear to you that your going to the Abbey truly is the best possible course of action. It will not be so bad there, my dear. You will be able to see your grandparents and surely you have friends you will wish to invite for a visit.”
“Yes, Julian.” The cravat came free in her hands and she began unbuttoning his jacket.
“If you are indeed with child the country air will be much healthier for you than that of the city,” he continued, frantically searching his mind for other good reasons to encourage her willingness to leave.
“No doubt you are right, my lord. The air of London seems to be constantly brown, does it not?” She started to work on his white shirt.
“I am certain I am right.” The novelty of having her undress him was affecting his senses. He was having trouble thinking clearly. His breeches were suddenly uncomfortably tight over his swelling shaft.
“I find that men are always quite certain they are right. Even when they are wrong.”
“Sophy?” He swallowed heavily as her fingertips found his bared chest. “Sophy, I know you find me arrogant on occasion, but, I assure you—”
“Please do not say anything else, Julian. I do not want to talk about the logic of my returning to the Abbey and I do not want to discuss your unfortunate tendency toward arrogance.” She stood on tiptoe and offered her slightly parted lips. “Kiss me.”
“Oh, God, Sophy.” He took her soft mouth hungrily, dazed by his good fortune. Her mood seemed to have changed completely and although he did not begin to comprehend why, he was not about to question the turn of events.
When she pressed herself more closely against him, he managed to collect his senses long enough to speak once more. “Sophy, darling, let us go upstairs. Quickly.”
“Why?” She nuzzled his throat.
Julian stared down at her ruffled curls. “Why?” he repeated. “You ask me that at this stage of events? Sophy, I am on fire for you.”
“The entire household is in bed. We are quite alone. No one will bother us.”
It finally dawned on him that she was quite prepared to make love right there in the library. “Ah, Sophy,” he said, half-laughing, half-groaning, “you are indeed a woman of many surprises.” He pulled the ribbon from her hair.
“I would have you remember me well while we are parted, my lord.”
“There is nothing on this earth that could ever make me forget you, my sweet wife.” He picked her up and carried her over to the sofa.
He set her down on the cushion and she smiled up at him with timeless feminine promise. When she held out her arms, Julian went into them with unquestioning eagerness.
A few minutes later when he found the sofa too confining, Julian rolled off onto the carpet, taking Sophy with him. She followed happily, the curves of her bare breasts and throat blushing a delectable shade of pink. Julian lay on his back, his wife stretched out sleek and naked on top of him and made a mental note to try the entire process on the floor of the library at Ravenwood Abbey at the earliest opportunity.
SEVENTEEN
Julian had been right, Sophy thought on her third day at Ravenwood. She would never admit it to him, of course, but things really were not so bad in the country. The worst part as far as she was concerned was that he was not with her.
She’d had plenty to keep her occupied in her husband’s absence, however. The interior of the magnificent country house was badly in need of attention. Julian had an excellent and willing staff, but the members of it had been functioning largely without direction since Elizabeth’s death.
Sophy greeted the new housekeeper with enthusiasm, pleased to see that the steward had followed the advice to promote Mrs. Ashkettle to the post. Mrs. Ashkettle was equally pleased to see a familiar face in charge and they both threw themselves into a frenzy of supervising the cleaning, repairing, and general freshening up of the entire house.
Sophy invited her grandparents for the evening meal on the third day and discovered the pleasure of presiding over her own table.
Her grandmother exclaimed happily over the magic Sophy had wrought during the previous three days. “An infinite improvement, my dear. The last time we were here everything seemed so dark and gloomy. Amazing what some polishing and cleaning and fresh draperies can do.”
“Food ain’t bad, either,” Lord Dorring announced, helping himself to a second round of sausages. “You make a fine Countess, Sophy. I believe I’ll have a bit more claret. Ravenwood’s cellar contains some excellent stuff. When will your husband be returning?”
“Soon, I hope. He has business to finish in the city. In the meantime, it is probably just as well he is not here. The commotion in the house for the past three days would have no doubt annoyed him.” Sophy smiled at the footman to signal more claret. “There are a few more rooms that still need work.” Including the bedchamber that by rights belonged to the Countess of Ravenwood, she reminded herself.
It had been a surprise to find that particular room locked. Mrs. Ashkettle had rummaged through the keys that she had inherited from Mrs. Boyle and had shaken her head in bewilderment.
“None of them seem to fit, my lady. Don’t understand it. Perhaps the key’s been lost. Mrs. Boyle said she was always told to stay out of that room and I’ve followed those instructions. But now that you’re here, you’ll be wantin’ to move into it. Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll have one of the staff see to the problem right away.”
But the problem had been resolved when Sophy had come across a key buried at the back of a desk drawer in the library. On a hunch she had tried her discovery on the locked door and found that it worked perfectly. She had investigated Elizabeth’s old bedchamber with deep curiosity.
She had decided immediately that she would not move in until it had been completely cleaned and aired. She could not bring herself to occupy it in its present condition. It had apparently been left untouched since Elizabeth’s death.
When Lord and Lady Dorring eventually took their leave after dinner, Sophy discovered she was exhausted. She went wearily up to the room she was using and allowed her maid to prepare her for bed.
“Thank you, Mary.” Sophy delicately patted away a yawn. “I seem to be very tired tonight.”
“Hardly surprisin’ m’lady, after all the work you’ve been doin’ around here. You ought to take it easy, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so. His lordship won’t be pleased if he finds out you’ve been workin’ yourself to the bone what with you carryin’ the baby and all.”
Sophy’s eyes widened. “How did you know about the baby?”
Mary grinned unabashedly. “Ain’t no secret, ma’am. I’ve been lookin’ after you long enough now to know certain things ain’t occurred on schedule. Congratulations, if I may say so. Have you told his lordship the good news yet? He’ll be pleased as pie.”
Sophy sighed. “Yes, Mary, he knows.”
“I’ll wager that’s why he sent us back to the country, then. He wouldn’t want you in that filthy London air while you’re breedin’. His lordship’s the type who looks after his female folk.”
&n
bsp; “Yes he is, isn’t he? Go on to bed, Mary. I am going to read for a while.”
There were few secrets in a large household and Sophy knew it. Still, she had thought to keep her precious one about the baby quiet a while longer. She was still adjusting to the idea of being pregnant with Julian’s child.
“Very good, ma’am. Shall I take Cook the ointment you promised her for her hands?”
“The ointment. Oh, dear, I nearly forgot.” Sophy went quickly to her medicine chest. “I must remember to visit Old Bess tomorrow and get some fresh supplies. I did not trust the freshness of the herbs the London apothecaries stocked.”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, good night, then, ma’am,” Mary said as Sophy put the container of ointment into her hand. “Cook’ll be grateful.”
“Good night, Mary.”
Sophy watched the door close behind her maid and then she wandered restlessly over to the shelf that contained her books. She really was very tired but now that she was ready for bed she did not feel like sleeping.
But she did not feel like reading, either, she discovered as she flipped idly through a few pages of Byron’s latest effort, The Giaour. She had purchased the volume a few days before Julian had sent her into the country and she had been eager to read it. It said a great deal about her present mood that she was now unable to work up a ready interest in the poet’s latest tale of adventure and intrigue in the exotic Orient.
Turning aside from her books, her eye fell on the small jewelry case on her dressing table. The black ring was no longer in it but every time she looked at the case, Sophy thought of it and fretted a little over her thwarted plans to find Amelia’s seducer.
Then she touched her still-flat belly and shuddered. There was no way she could carry out her detecting project now. She could never bring herself to put Julian’s life in jeopardy because of her own desire for vengeance. He was the father of her child and she was irrevocably in love with him. Even if that had not been the case, she would have had no right to let another take risks for the sake of her own personal honor.