Seduction (10 page)

confirm his belief that he had done his husbandly duty if he found some.

Sophy mixed a reddish concoction using some red-leafed herbs and more of the

tea. When she was done she eyed the mixture dubiously. It certainly looked the

right color but it was very thin. Perhaps that would not matter once it had

soaked into the sheet.

She went over to the bed again and dabbed a bit of the fake blood onto the

bedding where she had lain a few minutes earlier. It was quickly absorbed,

leaving a small, damp, reddish ring. Sophy wondered just how much blood a man

would expect to find after he had made love to a virgin.

She frowned intently and finally decided the amount of red-brown liquid she had

used was not enough to attract much notice so she added some more. Her hand

shook nervously as she leaned over the bed and a large amount of the imitation

blood slopped over the edge of the cup.

Startled, Sophy stepped back and more of the liquid cascaded onto the sheets.

There was now a very sizable patch of wet, stained bedding. Sophy wondered if

she had overdone it.

Hastily she poured the remainder of the reddish concoction into the teapot. Then

she blew out the candles and slid gingerly into bed beside Julian, careful not

to brush against his heavy, muscled leg.

There was no help for it. She would have to sleep on at least a portion of the

wide, damp spot.

FOUR

Julian heard the bedchamber door open. Hushed feminine voices exchanged words.

The door closed again and then he heard the cheerful clatter of a breakfast tray

being set down on a table nearby.

He stirred slowly, feeling unusually lethargic. His mouth tasted like the inside

of a horse stall. He frowned, trying to remember just how much port he had

swallowed during the course of the previous evening.

It was an effort to open his eyes. When he finally did so he was totally

disoriented. The walls of his room had apparently changed color overnight. He

stared at the unfamiliar Chinese wallpaper for a long moment as memory slowly

filtered back.

He was in Sophy's bed.

Julian eased himself up slowly onto the pillows, waiting for the rest of what

should have been a very satisfying memory to emerge. Nothing came to mind except

a faint, annoying headache. He scowled again and rubbed his temples.

It was not possible he could have forgotten the act of making love to his new

bride. The anticipation had been responsible for keeping him in a state of

aching arousal for too long. He'd been suffering for nearly ten days awaiting

the right moment. Surely the denouement would have left a most pleasurable

recollection.

He glanced around the room and saw Sophy standing near the wardrobe. She was

wearing the same dressing gown she had worn last night. Her back was to him and

he smiled fleetingly as he caught sight of a stray ruffle that had been

accidentally turned under around the collar. Julian had a strong urge to go over

to her and straighten the bit of lace. Then, he decided, he would take the

dressing gown off altogether and carry her back to bed.

He tried to remember what her small, gently curved breasts had looked like in

the candlelight but the only image that formed was one of dark, taut nipples

pushing against the soft fabric of her lawn nightgown.

Deliberately he pressed his memory further and found he could recall a hazy

picture of his wife lying on the bed, the nightgown drawn up above her knees.

Her bare legs had been graceful and elegant and he recalled his excitement at

the thought of having those legs wrapped around him.

He also remembered discarding his dressing gown as a sweeping desire kindled

within him. There had been shock and uncertainty in Sophy's gaze when she had

looked at him. It had angered him. He had come down onto the bed beside her,

determined to reassure her and make her accept him. She had been wary and

nervous but he had known that he could make her relax and enjoy his lovemaking.

She had already shown him that she responded to him.

He had reached for her and…

Julian shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs in it. Surely he had not

disgraced himself by failing to carry out his husbandly duties. He had been

consumed with the need to make Sophy his, he would not have fallen asleep in the

middle of the procedure no matter how much port he had downed.

Stunned by his incredible memory lapse, Julian started to push back the covers.

His thigh scraped across a stiff portion of the sheet—a damp patch that had

dried overnight. He smiled with relief and satisfaction as he started to glance

downward. He knew what he would find and it would prove he had not humiliated

himself after all.

But a moment later his sense of satisfaction gave way to appalled disbelief. The

reddish brown stain on the sheet was far too wide.

Impossibly wide.

Monstrously wide.

What had he done to his gentle, delicate wife?

The only experience Julian had ever had with a virgin had been his wedding night

with Elizabeth and with the bitter wisdom gained in recent years he'd had cause

to question that one occasion.

But he had heard the usual male talk and he knew that in the normal course of

events a woman did not bleed like a slaughtered calf. Sometimes a woman did not

bleed at all.

A man would have to literally assault a woman to cause this much bleeding. He

would have had to hurt her very badly to produce so much damage.

A queasy sensation gripped Julian's belly as he continued to stare down at the

terrible evidence of his brutal clumsiness. His own words came back to him. You

will thank me in the morning.

Good God, any woman who had suffered as much as Sophy obviously had would not be

in any mood to thank the man who had wounded her so grievously. She must hate

him this morning. Julian closed his eyes for a moment, desperately trying to

remember exactly what he had done to her. No incriminating scene appeared in his

beleaguered mind yet he could not deny the evidence. He opened his eyes.

"Sophy?" His voice sounded raw, even to his own ears.

Sophy jumped as if he had struck her with a whip. She whirled around to face him

with an expression that made Julian grit his teeth.

"Good… good morning, my lord." Her eyes were very wide, filled with great

feminine uneasiness.

"I have the feeling this particular morning could have been a great deal better

than it is. And I am to blame." He sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for

his dressing gown. He took his time getting into it, trying to think of how best

to handle the situation. She would hardly be in a mood to listen to words of

reassurance. God in heaven, he wished his head did not ache so.

"I believe your valet is ready with your shaving things, my lord."

He ignored that. "Are you all right?" he asked in low tones. He started to walk

toward her and stopped when she immediately stepped back. She came up against

the wardrobe and could retreat no further although the wish to do so was plain

in her expression. She stood there, clutching an embroidered muslin petticoat

and watched him anxiously.

"I am fine, my lord."

Julian sucked in his breath. "Oh, Sophy, little one, what have I done to you?

Was I really such a monster last night?"

"Your shaving water will get cold, my lord."

"Sophy, I am not worried about the temperature of my shaving water. I am worried

about you."

"I told you, I am fine. Please, Julian, I must dress."

He groaned and went toward her, ignoring the way she tried to edge out of reach.

He caught her gently by the shoulders and looked down into her worried eyes. "We

must talk."

The tip of her tongue came out and touched her lips. "Are you not satisfied, my

lord? I had hoped you would be."

"Good God," he breathed, pushing her head tenderly against his shoulder. "I can

just envision how desperately you hope I'm satisfied. I am certain you don't

want to face the thought of another night like last night."

"No, my lord, I would prefer not to face such a night again as long as I live."

Her voice was muffled against his dressing gown but he heard the fervency of her

wish quite clearly.

Guilt racked him. He stroked her back soothingly. "Would it help if I swear to

you on my honor that the next time will not be nearly so harsh an experience?"

"Your word of honor, my lord?"

He swore violently and pressed her face more deeply into his shoulder. He could

feel the tension in her and he had not the foggiest notion of how to combat it.

"I know you probably do not place much stock in my word of honor this morning,

but I promise you that the next time we make love, you will not suffer."

"I would prefer not to think about the next time, Julian."

He exhaled slowly. "No, I can understand that." He felt her try to free herself,

but he could not let her go just yet. He had to find a way to reassure her that

he was not the monster she evidently had found him last night. "I am sorry,

little one. I don't know what came over me. I know you will find this hard to

comprehend, but in all truthfulness, I cannot remember precisely what happened.

But you must believe, I never intended to hurt you."

She stirred against him, pushing tentatively at his shoulders. "I would rather

not discuss it."

"We must, else you will make the matter out to be even worse than it already is.

Sophy, look at me."

Her head came up slowly. She hesitated, slid him a quick, searching little

glance and then hastily looked away. "What do you want me to do, my lord?"

His hands tightened briefly on her and he had to force himself to relax. "I

would like you to say that you forgive me and that you will not hold my actions

last night against me. But I suppose that is asking far too much this morning."

She bit her lip. "Is your pride satisfied, my lord?"

"Hang my pride. I am trying to find a way to apologize to you and to let you

know it will never be so… so uncomfortable for you again." Hell, uncomfortable

was a ridiculously bland term for what she must have been feeling last night

when he was rutting between her legs. "Lovemaking between a husband and wife is

meant to be an enjoyable experience. It should have been a pleasure for you last

night. I meant it to be pleasurable. I don't know what happened. I must have

lost all sense of self-control. Damn, I must have lost my reason.

"Please, my lord, this is so terribly embarrassing. Need we discuss it?"

"You must see we cannot leave it at this."

There was a distinct pause before she asked cautiously, "Why not?"

"Sophy, be reasonable, sweetheart. We are married. We will be making love

frequently. I don't want you going in fear of the experience."

"I do wish you would not call it making love when it is nothing of the kind,"

she snapped.

Julian closed his eyes and summoned up his patience. The very least he owed his

new bride now was patience. It was, unfortunately, not one of his strong points.

"Sophy, tell me one thing. Do you hate me this morning?"

She swallowed convulsively and kept her eyes on the view outside her window.

"No, my lord."

"Well, that is something, at least. Not much, but something. Damn it, Sophy,

what did I do to you last night? I must have thrown myself on you, but I swear I

can remember nothing after getting into bed with you."

"I really cannot talk about it, my lord."

"No, I don't suppose you can." He raked his fingers through his hair. How could

he expect her to give him a detailed description of his actions? He did not want

to listen to the chilling tale, himself. But he desperately needed to know what

he had done to her. He had to know just how much of a devil he had been. He was

already starting to torture himself with vivid imaginings.

"Julian?"

"I know it is no excuse, my sweet, but I fear I drank more port last night than

I realized at the time. I will never again come to your bed in such a deplorable

condition. It was unpardonable. Please accept my apologies and believe that next

time will be far different."

Sophy cleared her throat. "As to the matter of a next time—

He winced. "I know you are not looking forward to it and I give you my word I

will not rush you a second time. But you must realize that eventually we will

have to make love again. Sophy, this first time for you, well, it's rather like

falling off a horse. If you don't remount, you might never ride again."

"I'm not certain that would be such a terrible fate," she muttered.

"Sophy."

"Yes, of course. There is the little matter of your heir. Forgive me, my lord,

it almost slipped my mind."

Self-loathing ripped through his gut. "I was not thinking of my heir. I was

thinking of you," he ground out.

"Our agreement was for three months," she reminded him quietly. "Do you think we

could return to that understanding?"

Julian cursed violently under his breath. "I don't think it would be a good idea

to wait that long. Your natural uneasiness will grow to unnatural proportions if

you have three whole months in which to dwell on what happened last night.