by Amanda Quick
“How terrible for you.”
He looked at her. “No, Sophy. The terrible part was walking into that hellish little chamber and seeing the rope he had tied around your ankle and the pallet where he intended to rape you.”
She shivered and hugged herself tightly. “Please, do not remind me.”
“Like you, I am glad it’s over. Even if today’s events had not occurred, I would have had to stop Waycott eventually. The bastard was getting worse, not better in his obsession with the past.”
Sophy frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps his condition took a turn for the worse because you decided to marry again. Some part of him could not bear to believe you could find any woman worthy of putting in Elizabeth’s place. He wanted you to be as true to her memory as he was.”
“Bloody hell. The man was mad.”
“Yes.” Sophy was silent for a moment. “What will happen now?”
“His body will be found in a day or two and it will be obvious that Lord Waycott took his own life. The matter will end there.”
“As it should.” Sophy touched his arm and smiled tentatively. “Thank you, Julian.”
“For what? Not protecting you with sufficient care to ensure that this day’s events never happened? You managed your own escape, if you will recall. The last thing I deserve from you is your thanks, madam.”
“I will not have you blame yourself, my lord,” she said fiercely. “What happened today could not have been predicted by any of us. The important thing is that it is over. I am thanking you because I appreciate how hard it must have been for you to resist calling out Lord Waycott. I know you, Julian. Your sense of honor would have demanded a duel. It must have been very difficult for you to abide by your vow to me.”
Julian shifted slightly in the chair. “Sophy, I think it would be best if we changed the subject.”
“But I want you to know how grateful I am that you kept your promise to me. I hope you realize I could not allow you to take such a risk, Julian. I love you too much to let you do it.”
“Sophy—”
“And I could not bear for our babe not to know his father.”
Julian put down his wineglass and reached over to capture Sophy’s hand in his. “I, too, am very curious to meet our son or daughter. I meant what I said when I walked out the door earlier tonight. I love you, Sophy. And I would have you remember that no matter what happens, no matter how often I fail to live up to your ideal of a perfect husband, I will always love you.”
She smiled quietly and squeezed his large hand. “I know.”
Julian’s brows rose with a familiar arrogance but there was a gleam of loving amusement in his eyes. “You do? How so?”
“Well, let us say that I have had some time to think while I waited for you to return tonight. It occurred to me, rather belatedly, that any man who believed my outlandish tale of what had really happened this afternoon, the kidnapping and the drugged tea and all the rest, must be a man who was at least a little bit in love.”
“Not a little bit in love.” Julian raised her palm to his lips and kissed it. His eyes were emerald green when they met hers. “A great deal in love. Head over heels, overwhelmingly and completely in love. I only regret that it took me so long to realize it.”
“You always were inclined to be stubborn and thickheaded.”
Julian grinned briefly and tugged her down across his thighs. “And you, my sweet wife, have the same tendencies. Luckily we understand each other.” He kissed her deeply and then raised his head to search her eyes. “I am sorry about some things, Sophy. I have not always treated you as well as I ought to have done. I have ridden roughshod over most of our wedding agreements because I was convinced I knew what was best for you and for our marriage. And there will undoubtedly be times in the future when I will act as I believe best, even when that does not accord with what you believe to be best.”
She laced her fingers through the dark depths of his hair. “As I said, stubborn and thickheaded.”
“About the babe, sweetheart.”
“The babe is fine, my lord.” The memory of Waycott’s accusations returned. “You must know I did not go to Old Bess for a potion to get rid of your child.”
“I realize that; you would not do such a thing. But the fact remains that I had no right to get you with child so quickly. I could have prevented it.”
“Someday, my lord,” Sophy said with a teasing smile, “you must tell me exactly how one does prevent such an occurrence. Anne Silverthorne told me about a certain type of pouch made of sheep gut that is tied on the male member with little red strings. Do you know of such things?”
Julian groaned in despair. “How the hell would Anne Silverthorne know of such matters? Good lord, Sophy, you have been keeping very bad company in London. It is fortunate I got you away from the city before you were corrupted further by my aunt’s acquaintances.”
“Quite true, my lord. And as it happens, I am content to learn all I need to know about corruption at your hands.” Sophy touched Julian’s big hands with loving fingers and then bent her head to kiss his wrist. When she looked up, she saw his love for her in his eyes.
“I have said all along,” Julian remarked softly, “that you and I would deal very well together.”
“You were apparently right yet again, my lord.”
He got to his feet and pulled her up to stand in front of him. “I am almost always right,” he said as he brushed his mouth against hers. “And on those occasions when I am not, I shall have you to put me right. Now I find that it is almost dawn, my love and I have need of your softness and your heat. You are a tonic for me. I have discovered that when I am in your arms, I can forget everything else but you. Let us go to bed.”
“I would like that very much, Julian.”
He undressed her slowly, with infinite care, his muscular hands gliding over every inch of her soft, fair skin. He bent his head to kiss the budding peaks of her breasts and his fingers found the flowing warmth between her legs.
And when he was very certain she was on fire for him, Julian carried her over to the bed, laid her down upon it, and made love to her until they both could put the memory of the day’s events far behind them.
A long time later Julian rolled reluctantly to one side, cradling Sophy in one arm. He yawned mightily and said, “The emeralds.”
“What about them?” Sophy snuggled close. “You found them in the basket, I presume?”
“I found them. And you will wear them on the next occasion that warrants such finery. I cannot wait to see you in them.”
Sophy stilled. “I do not think I want to wear them, Julian. I do not like them. They won’t become me.”
“Don’t be a goose, Sophy. You will look magnificent in them.”
“They should be worn by a taller woman. A blond, perhaps. In any event, knowing me, the clasp will probably come undone and I shall lose them. Things are always coming undone on my person, my lord. You know that.”
Julian grinned in the darkness. “It is one of your charms. But have no fear, I shall always be nearby to retrieve any lost items, including the emeralds.”
“Julian, I truly do not want to wear the emeralds,” Sophy said insistently.
“Why?”
She was silent for a long moment. “I cannot explain.”
“It is because in your mind you associate them with Elizabeth, do you not?” he asked gently. She sighed softly. “Yes.”
“Sophy, the Ravenwood emeralds have nothing to do with Elizabeth. Those stones have been in my family for three generations and they will remain in the family as long as there are Ravenwood wives to wear them. Elizabeth may have toyed with them for a short while, but they never belonged to her in any real sense. Do you understand.
“No.”
“You are being stubborn, Sophy.”
“It is one of my charms.”
“You will wear the emeralds,” Julian vowed softly as he pulled her across his chest. “Never.”
“I can see,” Julian said, his green eyes gleaming behind his lashes, “that I must find a way to convince you to change your mind.”
“There is no way you can do that,” Sophy said with great determination.
“Ah, sweetheart. Why do you persist in underestimating me?” He used his hands to frame her face for his kiss and a moment later, Sophy softened eagerly against his hard length.
* * *
In spring of the following year the Earl and Countess of Ravenwood gave a house party to celebrate the recent birth of a healthy son. Everyone who was invited to the country, came, including a few, such as Lord Daregate, who normally could not be persuaded away from London during the season.
During a quiet moment in the Ravenwood gardens, Daregate grinned knowingly at Julian. “I always said Sophy would look good in the emeralds. She was quite beautiful in them tonight at dinner.”
“I shall convey your compliments to her,” Julian said, smiling to himself with satisfaction. “She fretted about wearing them. I had to work long and hard to convince her to do so.”
“I wonder why you had to go to all that effort,” Daregate mused. “Most women would have been willing to kill to wear those stones.”
“She associated them too much with Elizabeth.”
“Yes, I can see where that might have bothered a sensitive creature like Sophy. How did you convince her otherwise?”
“An intelligent husband eventually learns the sort of reasoning that works with a woman. It’s taken me some time, but I am getting the hang of it,” Julian said complacently. “In this instance I finally hit upon the brilliant notion of pointing out that the Ravenwood emeralds went very nicely with my eyes.”
Daregate stared at him for an instant and then gave a crack of laughter. “Brilliant, indeed. Sophy would be unable to resist such logic. As it happens, they are a nice match for your son’s eyes, too. The Ravenwood emeralds breed true, it seems.” Daregate paused to examine a small garden set apart from the rest of the lush greenery. “What have we here?”
Julian glanced down at his feet. “Sophy’s herb garden. She had it put in this spring and already the local villagers have begun asking for cuttings, recipes, and concoctions. I spend a small fortune in herbals these days. I believe Sophy is getting ready to write one of her own. I find I am married to a busy woman.”
“I am in favor of keeping women busy, myself,” Daregate said dryly. “I believe work keeps them out of trouble.”
“That is amusing, considering the fact that most of the work you do is at a hazard table.”
“Not for much longer, I believe,” Daregate announced calmly. “Word has it my dear cousin’s constitution is failing rapidly. He has taken to his bed and found religion.”
“A sure sign of an impending demise. May we then anticipate your own nuptials shortly?”
“First,” said Daregate with a glance back toward the main house, “I must find a suitable heiress. There is very little money left in the estate.”
Julian followed his friend’s gaze and saw a flash of red hair through the open windows. “Sophy tells me that Anne Silverthorne’s stepfather recently departed for the hereafter. Miss Silverthorne has inherited everything.”
“So I am told.”
Julian chuckled. “Good luck, my friend. I fear you will have your hands full with that lady. She is, after all, a close friend of my wife’s and you know what I went through with Sophy.”
“You appear to have survived,” Daregate observed cheerfully.
“Barely.” Julian grinned and clapped Daregate on the shoulder. “Come inside and I will pour you some of the best brandy you have ever had.”
“French?”
“Naturally. I bought a shipment of it from our friendly local smuggler two months ago. Sophy lectured me severely for days about the risk.”
“Judging by her actions toward you now, she appears to have forgiven you.”
“I have learned how to deal with my wife, Daregate.”
“What, pray tell, is the secret of marital bliss?” Daregate inquired, his eyes straying once more toward the window where Anne Silverthorne stood.
“That, my friend, you must discover for yourself. I fear there is no easy path to domestic harmony. But the effort is worthwhile with the right female.”
Much later that night, Julian sprawled alongside Sophy. His body was still damp from the recent lovemaking and he could feel satisfaction flowing through him like a powerful drug.
“Daregate asked me for the secret of domestic happiness earlier this evening,” Julian murmured, cradling Sophy close.
“Really?” She traced a design on his bare chest. “What did you tell him?”
“That he would have to discover it for himself, the hard way, just as I did.” Julian turned on his side and smoothed Sophy’s hair off her cheek. He smiled down at her, loving everything about her. “Thank you for consenting to wear the emeralds at last. Did it bother you to have them around your throat tonight?”
Sophy shook her head slowly. “No. I did not wish to wear them at first but then I realized you were right. The stones match your eyes perfectly. When I finally got used to the idea I knew that I would think only of you whenever I wore them.”
“That is how it should be.” He kissed her slowly, lingeringly, savoring the unlimited happiness that filled him. His hand was gliding up Sophy’s leg when he heard the small, demanding cry from the next room.
“Your son is hungry, my lord.”
Julian groaned. “He has an infallible sense of timing, has he not?”
“He is as demanding as his father.”
“Very well, madam. Let Nurse sleep. I shall fetch the next Earl of Ravenwood for you. Pacify him quickly and then we will get back to more important business.”
He was getting used to this business of being a father, Julian thought as he went into the small nursery that had been set up next door to the master bedchamber. In fact, he was getting quite good at the whole business.
His son stopped crying as soon as he felt his father’s strong hands lifting and holding him. The green-eyed, dark-haired babe gurgled happily and when Julian placed the infant at Sophy’s breast, the Ravenwood heir settled down to suckle cheerfully.
Julian sat on the edge of the bed and watched his wife and son in the shadows. The sight of them together filled him with a contentment and a possessive satisfaction that was akin to the feeling he experienced when he made love to Sophy.
“Sophy, tell me again that at last you have gotten everything you wanted out of this marriage,” Julian demanded softly.
“Everything and more, Julian.” Her smile was very brilliant in the darkness. “Everything and more.”
About the Author
AMANDA QUICK, a pseudonym for Jayne Ann Krentz, is a best-selling, award-winning author of contemporary and historical romances. There are over twenty-five million copies of her books in print, including Seduction, Surrender, Scandal, Rendezvous, Ravished, Reckless, Dangerous, Deception, Desire, Mistress, Mystique, Mischief, Affair, With This Ring, I Thee Wed, Wicked Widow, and Slightly Shady. She makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, Frank.
Visit her website at www.amandaquick.com.
Seduction is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1990 by Jayne A. Krentz
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Bantam Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BANTAM BOOKS and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Bantam Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., in 1990.
eISBN: 978-0-307-57557-9
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