by Amanda Quick
A knock on the door interrupted Mary’s detailed account of the afternoon’s events. She went to answer it and found a maid with a tea tray. “Here, I’ll take that. Run along now. Her ladyship needs rest.” Mary closed the door again and set the tray down on a table. “Oh, look, Cook put some cakes on the tray for you. Have one with your tea, ma’am. It’ll give you some strength.”
Sophy looked at the teapot and immediately felt slightly queasy. “Thank you, Mary. I’ll have the tea in a bit. I am not very hungry at the moment.”
“It’s the blow on the head that does it,” Mary said knowledgeably. “Affects the stomach, it does. But you really should have a cup of tea, at the least, ma’am.”
The door opened again and Julian walked into the room without bothering to knock. He was still wearing his riding clothes and he had obviously overheard the maid’s last comment. “Run along, Mary. I’ll see that she drinks her tea.”
Startled by his arrival, Mary dropped a quick curtsy and backed nervously toward the door. “Yes, my lord,” she said as she put her hand on the doorknob. She started to leave the room and then paused to say with a small touch of defiance. “We was all very worried about madam.”
“I know you were, Mary. But she is home safe and sound now and I think you will all take much better care of her in the future, will you not?”
“Oh, yes, my lord. Won’t let her out of our sight.”
“Excellent. You may go now, Mary.”
Mary fled.
Sophy tightened her fingers in her lap as the door closed behind her maid. “You need not terrorize the staff, Julian. They all mean well and what happened this afternoon was certainly not their fault. I—” She cleared her throat. “I’ve ridden that path dozens of times during the past few years. There was no reason for me to have a groom along. This is the country, not the city.”
“But they did not find your poor, unconscious body lying along the path that leads to Old Bess’s cottage, did they?” Julian lowered himself into a chair near the window and glanced around the room. “I see you have made several changes in here and elsewhere, my dear.”
The rapid change of subject was disconcerting. “I hope you don’t mind, my lord,” Sophy said in a stifled voice. She had a terrible premonition that he had decided on a strategy of toying with her until her nerve broke and she confessed everything.
“No, Sophy. I do not mind in the least. I have not liked this house for some time.” Julian’s gaze slid back to her anxious face. “Any changes in Ravenwood Abbey will be most welcome, I assure you. How are you feeling?”
“Very well, thank you.” The words seemed to stick in her throat.
“I am relieved to hear it.” He stretched out his booted feet and lounged back in the chair, his big hands steepled loosely in front of him. “You had us all quite worried, you know.”
“I am sorry for that.” Sophy took a breath and struggled to recall the small, carefully plotted details of her tale. Her theory was that if she propped up her sagging story with a large number of specifics, she might still salvage it. “I think it was a small animal that startled my mare. A squirrel, perhaps. Normally there would have been no problem. As you know, I am a reasonably skilled rider.”
“I have often admired your riding skills,” Julian agreed blandly.
Sophy felt herself flushing. “Yes, well, as it happened, I had just been returning from Old Bess’s and I had purchased a large quantity of herbs from her and I had the packets arranged in my skirts. I was busy adjusting them, the packets, that is, as we went along because I was afraid some of the herbs might slip out enroute, you see.”
“I see.”
Sophy stared at him for a few seconds, feeling mesmerized by the steady, waiting expression in his eyes. He appeared so serene and patient but she knew it was a hunter’s patience she saw in him. The knowledge rattled her. “And … and I am afraid my attention was not on my riding as it should have been. I was fumbling with a packet of … of dried rhubarb, I believe it was, when the mare shied. I never quite got my balance after that.”
“That was the point at which you fell to the ground and struck your head?”
They had not found her lying unconscious along the path, Sophy reminded herself. “Not quite, my lord. I started to slip from the saddle at that point but, uh, I believe the mare carried me for some distance into the woods before I finally lost my seat altogether.”
“Would it make this any easier for you if I told you I have just now returned from a ride along the path to Old Bess’s cottage?”
Sophy eyed him uneasily. “You have, my lord?”
“Yes, Sophy,” he said very gently. “I have. I took a torch with me and in the vicinity of the pond I discovered some rather interesting tracks. There appears to have been another horse and rider on that same path today.”
Sophy leaped to her feet. “Oh, Julian, pray do not ask me any more questions tonight. I cannot talk right now. I am far too distraught. I was wrong when I said I felt well. The truth is I feel absolutely wretched.”
“But not, I think, because of a blow on the head.” Julian’s voice was even softer and more reassuring than it had been a moment ago. “Perhaps you are making yourself ill with worry, my dear. You have my word that there is no necessity to do that.”
Sophy did not understand or trust the tenderness she heard in his words. “I do not take your meaning, my lord.”
“Why don’t you come over here and sit with me for a moment while you calm yourself.” He held out his hand.
Sophy glanced longingly at the offered hand and then at his face. She steeled herself against the lure he was offering. She must be strong. “There … there is no room on the chair for me, Julian.”
“I will make room. Come here, Sophy. The situation is not nearly so bleak nor as complicated as you appear to think.”
She told herself it would be a major error to go to him. She would lose whatever strength of will she possessed if she allowed him to cosset her just now. But she ached to feel his arms around her again and in the end his outstretched hand was too much to resist in her tired, weakened condition.
“I should probably lie down for a while,” she said as she took a step toward Julian.
“You will rest soon, little one, I promise you.”
He continued to wait with that subtle air of limitless patience as she took a second and then a third step toward him.
“Julian, I should not do this,” she breathed softly as his fingers closed over her hand, engulfing it.
“I am your husband, sweetheart.” He tugged her down onto his lap and cradled her against his shoulder. “Who else can you talk to about what really happened today, if not me?”
At that she lost most of what was left of her fortitude. She had been through too much today. The kidnapping, the threat of rape, her narrow escape, the moment when she had held the pocket pistol in her hand and found herself unable to shoot Waycott—all conspired to weaken her.
If Julian had shouted at her or if he had been cold with rage, she might have been able to resist, but his soothing, tender tone was irresistible. She turned her face into the hollow of his shoulder and closed her eyes. His arms tightened comfortingly around her and his broad shoulders promised protection as nothing else could.
“Julian, I love you,” she said into his shirt.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. So you will tell me the truth now, hm?”
“I cannot do that,” she said starkly.
He did not argue the point. He just sat there stroking the curve of her back with his big, strong hands. There was silence in the room until Sophy, succumbing to the temptation once more, began to relax against him.
“Do you trust me, Sophy?”
“Yes, Julian.”
“Then why will you not tell me the truth about what happened today?”
She heaved a sigh. “I am afraid, my lord.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
“I am pleased to hear that
, at least.” He paused for a moment and then said thoughtfully, “Some wives in your situation might have reason to fear their husbands.”
“They must be wives whose husbands do not hold them in high esteem,” Sophy said instantly. “Sad, unfortunate wives who do not enjoy either the respect or the trust of their husbands. I pity them.”
Julian gave a muffled exclamation that sounded like something between a groan and a chuckle. He retied a velvet ribbon that had come undone on Sophy’s dressing gown. “You, of course, are excluded from that group of females, my dear. You enjoy my esteem, my respect, and my trust, do you not?”
“So you have said, my lord.” Wistfully, Sophy wondered what it would be like to have Julian’s love added to the list.
“Then you are right not to fear me for, knowing you, I know very well that you did nothing wrong today. You would never betray me, would you, Sophy?”
Her fingers clenched around a handful of his shirt. “Never, Julian. Never in this life or any other. I am very glad you realize that.”
“I do, my sweet.” He fell silent again for another long moment and once more Sophy relaxed under the soothing stroke of his hand. “Unfortunately, I find that, although I trust you completely, my curiosity is not assuaged. I really must know what happened to you today. You must make allowances for the fact that I am your husband, Sophy. The title causes me to feel somewhat protective.”
“Please, Julian, do not force me to tell you. I am all right, I promise you.”
“It is not my intention to force you to do anything. We will play a guessing game, instead.”
Sophy stiffened against him. “I do not want to play any games.”
He paid no attention to the small protest. “You say you do not wish to tell me the full story because you are afraid. Yet you also claim you are not afraid of me. Therefore, we can safely conclude that you are afraid of someone else. Do you not trust me to be able to protect you, my dear?”
“It is not that, Julian.” Sophy lifted her head quickly, anxious that he not doubt her faith in his ability to defend her. “I know you would go to any length to protect me.”
“You are right,” Julian said simply. “You are very important to me, Sophy.”
“I understand, Julian.” She touched her stomach fleetingly. “You are no doubt concerned because of your future heir. But you need not worry about the babe, truly—”
Julian’s emerald eyes flickered for the first time with a show of real anger. It was gone almost at once. He cradled her face between his palms. “Let us have this clear, Sophy. You are important to me because you are Sophy, my dear, unconventional, honorable, loving wife—not because of the child you carry.”
“Oh.” She could not tear her eyes away from his brilliant gaze. This was as close as he had ever come to telling her he loved her. It might be as close as he ever got. “Thank you, Julian.”
“Do not thank me. It is I who owe you thanks.” He covered her mouth with his and kissed her with slow thoroughness. When he finally raised his head, there was a familiar gleam in his eyes. His mouth curved faintly. “You are a powerful distraction, my dear, but I think that this time I will endeavor to resist. At least for a while longer.”
“But, Julian—”
“Now, we will finish our guessing game. You are afraid of whoever was on the path by the pond this afternoon. You do not seem to fear for your own safety, so we must conclude that you fear for mine.”
“Julian, please, I beg of you—”
“If you fear for my safety, yet you will not give me a fair warning of the danger, it follows that you do not fear a direct attack on my person. You would not conceal that important information from me, would you?”
“No, my lord.” She knew now it was hopeless to keep the truth to herself. The hunter was closing in on his prey.
“We are left with only one other possibility,” Julian said with inevitable logic. “If you are afraid for me but you do not fear I will be attacked, then it must be that you are afraid that I will challenge this mysterious, unknown third party to a duel.”
Sophy straightened in his lap, grasped two fistfulls of his shirt and narrowed her eyes. “Julian, you must give me your word of honor that you will not do that. You must promise me for the sake of our unborn child. I will not have you risking your life. Do you hear me?”
“It is Waycott, is it not?”
Sophy’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“It was not terribly difficult to guess. What happened on the path this afternoon, Sophy?”
She stared up at him in helpless frustration. The gentle, reassuring expression in Julian’s eyes was vanishing as though it had never existed. In its place was the cold, prowling look of the predator. He had won the immediate battle and now he was preparing his strategy for the one that lay ahead.
“I will not let you call him out, Julian. You will not risk a bullet from Waycott, do you understand?”
“What happened on the path today?”
Sophy could have wept. “Julian, please—”
“What happened today, Sophy?”
He had not raised his voice but she knew immediately his patience was exhausted. He would have his answer. Sophy pushed herself up off his lap. He allowed her to get to her feet but his eyes never left her averted face.
Slowly she walked across the room to the window and stood staring out into the night. In short, concise sentences she told him the entire tale.
“He killed them, Julian,” she concluded, her hands knotted in front of her. “He killed them both. He drowned Elizabeth because she had finally goaded him too far by taunting him with her plan to rid herself of his babe. He killed my sister by treating her as though she were nothing more important than a casual plaything.”
“I knew about your sister. I put the pieces of that puzzle together myself before I left London. And I have always had my suspicions about what happened to Elizabeth that night. I wondered if one of her lovers had finally been pushed too far.”
Sophy leaned her forehead against the cool glass pane. “God help me, I could not bring myself to pull the trigger when I had the chance. I am such a coward.”
“No, Sophy, you are no coward.” Julian moved to stand directly behind her. “You are the bravest woman I have ever met and I would trust you with my life as well as my honor. You must know you did the honorable thing this evening. One does not shoot an unconscious man in cold blood, no matter what he has done.”
Sophy turned slowly to look up at him with a sense of uncertainty. “But if I had shot him when I had the chance it would all be over by now. I would not have to worry about you.”
“You would have had to live with the knowledge that you had killed a man and I would not wish that fate on you, sweetheart, no matter how much Waycott deserved to die.”
Sophy experienced a twinge of impatience. “Julian, I must tell you that I am not so much concerned with whether or not I behaved honorably as I am with the fact that I did not settle the matter once and for all. I am afraid that when it comes to this sort of thing, I have a very practical streak in me. The man is a murderer and he is still free.”
“Not for much longer.”
Alarm flared within her. “Julian, please, you must promise me you will not challenge him. You could be killed, even if Waycott fought a fair duel which is highly unlikely.”
Julian smiled. “As I understand it, he is in no condition to fight at all at the moment. You said he was unconscious, did you not? I can well believe he will remain so for some time. I, myself, have had extensive experience with your special tea brews, if you recall.”
“Do not tease me, Julian.”
He caught her wrists and brought her hands to his chest. “I am not teasing you, sweetheart. I am just exceedingly grateful you are alive and unhurt. You will never know what it did to me tonight to arrive here and find that you were missing.”
She refused to be comforted because she knew what lay ahead. “What will you do, Julian?�
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“That depends. How long do you estimate Waycott will be asleep?”
Sophy frowned. “Another three or four hours, perhaps.”
“Excellent. I will deal with him later, then.” He began untying the ribbons of her dressing gown. “In the meantime I can spend some time reassuring myself that you are, indeed, unhurt.”
Sophy looked up at him very earnestly as the gown fell away from her. “Julian, I must have your word of honor that you will not challenge Waycott.”
“Do not worry about it, my dear.” He kissed the curve of her throat.
“Your word, Julian. You will give it to me.” There was nothing more she wanted at the moment than to be in Julian’s arms but this was far more important. She stood stiff and unyielding, ignoring the warm, inviting touch of his mouth on her skin.
“Do not concern yourself with what happens to Waycott. I will deal with everything. He will never come near you again.”
“Damn you, Julian, I will have your promise not to call him out. Your safety is far more important to me than your stupid, male sense of honor. I have told you what I think of dueling. It settles nothing and can easily get you killed into the bargain. You will not challenge Waycott, do you hear me? Give me your word, Julian.”
He stopped kissing the hollow of her shoulder and slowly raised his head to look down at her. He was scowling for the first time. “I am not a bad shot, Sophy.”
“I do not care how accurate your aim is, I will not have you take such a risk and that is final.”
His brows rose slightly. “It is?”
“Yes, damn you. I will not take the chance of losing you in a silly duel with a man who will most likely cheat. I feel about this precisely the way you felt the morning you interrupted my appointment with Charlotte Featherstone. I will not stand for it.”
“I do not believe I have ever heard you so adamant, my dear,” Julian said dryly.
“Your word, Julian. Give it to me.”
He sighed in capitulation. “Very well. If it means so much to you, you have my solemn vow not to challenge Waycott to a duel with pistols.”
Sophy closed her eyes in overwhelming relief. “Thank you, Julian.”