Seduction (22 page)

Daregate putting down his hand of cards and getting languidly to his feet.

"Good evening, Ravenwood," Waycott said blandly as Julian came to a halt in

front of him. "Enjoy the opera this evening? I saw your lovely bride there

although it was difficult to spot her in the crowd. But, then, I was naturally

looking for the Ravenwood emeralds."

"My wife is not the gaudy type," Julian murmured. "I think she looks best when

dressed in a simple, more classic style."

"Do you indeed? And does she agree with you? Women do love their jewels. You of

all men should have learned that lesson."

Julian lowered his voice but kept the edge on his words. "When it comes to the

important matters, my wife defers to my wishes. She trusts my judgment not only

in regard to her attire but also in regard to her acquaintances."

"Unlike your first wife, eh?" Waycott's eyes were glittering with malice. "What

makes you so certain the new Lady Ravenwood will be guided by you, Ravenwood?

She seems an intelligent young woman, if a little naive. I suspect she will soon

begin to rely on her own judgment in both her attire and her acquaintances. And

then you will be in much the same position as you were in your first marriage,

won't you?"

"If I ever have cause to suspect that Sophy's notions are being shaped by

someone other than myself, then I will have no option but to take steps to

remedy the situation."

"What makes you believe you can remedy such a situation?" Waycott grinned

lazily. "You had very little luck doing so in the past."

"There is a difference this time around,' Julian said calmly.

"And what would that be?"

"This time I will know exactly where to look should any potential threat to my

wife arise. I will not be slow to crush that threat."

There was a cold fever burning in Waycott's eyes now. "Should I take that as a

warning?"

"I leave you to your own judgment, unsound though it is." Julian inclined his

head mockingly.

Waycott's hand tightened into a clenched fist and the fever in his eyes grew

hot. "Damn you, Ravenwood," he hissed very softly, "If you think you have cause

to call me out, then get on with it."

"But I have no cause as of yet, do I?" Julian asked silkily.

"There is always the matter of Elizabeth," Waycott challenged tightly. His

fingers flexed and unflexed nervously.

"You credit me with far too rigid a code of honor," Julian said. "I would

certainly never bother to get up at dawn in order to kill a man because of

Elizabeth. She was not worth that much effort."

Waycott's cheeks were stained red with his frustration and fury. "You have

another wife now. Will you allow yourself to be cuckolded a second time,

Ravenwood?"

"No," Julian said very quietly. "Unlike Elizabeth, Sophy is, indeed, worth the

effort of killing a man and I would not hesitate to do so should it become

necessary."

"You bastard. You were the one who was not worthy of Elizabeth. And do not be

bothered to issue threats. We all know you will never challenge me or any other

man again because of a woman. You said so, yourself, remember?" Waycott took a

menacing step forward.

"Did I?" A surge of anticipation shot through Julian. But before anything more

could be said by either man Daregate and Thurgood materialized at Julian's side.

"There you are, Ravenwood," Daregate said smoothly to Julian. "Thurgood and I

have been looking for you. We mean to persuade you into giving us a hand or two

of cards. You will excuse us, Waycott?" He flashed his slightly cruel, taunting

smile.

Waycott's blond head moved in a jerky nod. He turned on his heel and strode out

of the room.

Julian watched him leave, feeling a savage disappointment. "I don't know why you

bothered to interfere," he remarked to his friends. "Sooner or later I will

probably have to kill him."

NINE

The scented letter with the elegant lilac seal arrived on the side of Sophy's

tea tray the next morning. She sat up in bed, yawning and glanced curiously at

the unexpected missive.

"When did this arrive, Mary?"

"One of the footmen said it was brought round by a lad not more than a half hour

ago, my lady." Mary bustled about the room, drawing the curtains and laying out

a pretty cotton morning dress that had been chosen by Fanny and Sophy a few days

earlier.

Sophy sipped tea and slit the seal on the envelope. Idly she scanned the

contents and then frowned as she realized they made no sense at first. There was

no signature, just initials in the closing. It took her a second reading to

comprehend the import of the letter.

Dear Madam:

First, allow me to begin by offering you my most sincerely felt felicitations on

the occasion of your recent marriage. I have never had the honor of being

introduced to you but I feel a degree of familiarity exists between us owing to

our having a certain mutual friend. I am also certain that you are a woman of

sensitivity and discretion as our friend is not the sort to make the same

mistake in a second marriage as he made in his first.

Having faith in your discretion, I believe that, once having read the contents

of this letter, you will wish to take the simple step that will ensure that the

details of my most agreeable association with our mutual friend remain private.

I am, Madam, presently engaged in the difficult task of assuring the peace and

tranquility of my old age. I do not wish to be forced to rely on charity in my

later years. I am achieving my goal by means of the publication of my Memoirs.

Perhaps you are familiar with the first installments? There will be several more

published in the near future.

My aim in writing these Memoirs is not to humiliate or embarrass, but rather

simply to raise sufficient funds to provide for an uncertain future. In that

light, I am offering an opportunity to those concerned to assure themselves that

specific names do not appear in print and thereby cause unpleasant gossip. This

same opportunity will also afford me the funds I seek without obliging me to

resort to revealing intimate details of past associations. As you can see, the

proposition I will put to you presently is beneficial to all involved.

Now, then, Madam, I come to the point: If you will send the sum of two hundred

pounds to me by five o'clock tomorrow afternoon you may rest assured that a

number of charming letters your husband once wrote to me do not appear in my

Memoirs.

To you such a sum of money is a mere pittance, less than the cost of a new gown.

To me it is a building block in the cozy little rose-covered cottage in Bath to

which I will soon retire. I look forward to hearing from you promptly.

I remain, Madam, yours very truly, C. E

Sophy reread the letter a third time, her hands shaking. She was dazed by the

flames of rage that burst to life within her. It was not the fact that Julian

might once have been intimately involved with Charlotte Featherstone that

infuriated her, she realized. It was not even the threat of having that past

association detailed in print, as humiliating as it would be, that left her

trembling with anger.

What made Sophy lightheaded with fury was the realization that Julian had once

taken the time to write love notes to a professional courtesan yet he could not

be bothered to jot so much as a simple love poem to his new wife.

"Mary, put away the morning dress and get out my green riding habit."

Mary glanced at her in surprise. "You have decided to ride this mornin', ma'am?"

"Yes, I have."

"Will Lord Ravenwood be going with you?" Mary inquired as she set to work.

"No, he will not." Sophy shoved back the covers and got to her feet, still

clutching Charlotte Featherstone's letter in one hand. "Anne Silverthorne and

Jane Morland ride nearly every morning in the park. I believe I will join them

today."

Mary nodded. "I'll send word to have a horse and a groom waitin' for you

downstairs, my lady."

"Please do that, Mary."

A short while later Sophy was assisted onto a fine chestnut mare by a liveried

groom who had his own pony waiting nearby. She set off at once for the park,

leaving the groom to follow as best he could.

It was not difficult to find Anne and Jane who were cantering along one of the

main paths. Their grooms followed at a discreet distance, chatting in low tones

with each other.

Anne's froth of red curls gleamed in the morning light and her vivid eyes

sparkled with welcome as she caught sight of Sophy.

"Sophy, I'm so glad you could join us this morning. We are just beginning our

ride. Isn't it a beautiful day?"

"For some, perhaps," Sophy allowed ominously. "But not for others. I must talk

with both of you."

Jane's perpetually serious gaze grew even darker with concern. "Is something

wrong, Sophy?"

"Very wrong. I cannot even bring myself to try to explain. It is beyond

anything. Never have I been so humiliated. Here. Read this." Sophy handed

Charlotte's letter to Jane as the three women slowed their horses to a walk

along the path.

"Good heavens," Jane breathed, looking stricken as she scanned the note. Without

another word she handed the letter to Anne.

Anne perused the missive quickly and then glanced up, clearly shocked. "She is

going to print the letters Ravenwood wrote to her?"

Sophy nodded, her mouth tight with anger. "So it seems. Unless, of course, I pay

her two hundred pounds."

"This is outrageous," Anne declared in ringing accents.

"Only to be expected, I suppose," Jane said more prosaically. "After all,

Featherstone has not hesitated to name several members of the Beau Monde in the

first installments. She even mentioned a royal Duke, remember? If Ravenwood was

associated with her at some time in the past, it is logical that his turn would

come sooner or later."

"How dare he!' Sophy whispered half under her breath.

Jane gave her a sympathetic glance. "Sophy, dear, you are not that naive. It is

the way of the world for most men in Society to have mistresses. At least she

does not claim that Ravenwood is still an admirer. Be grateful for that much."

"Grateful" Sophy could barely speak.

"You have read the first installments of the Memoirs along with the rest of us.

You have seen the number of well-known names Featherstone was associated with at

one time or another. Most of them were married during the time they were

involved with Charlotte Featherstone."

"So many men leading double lives." Sophy shook her head angrily. "And they have

the gall to lecture women on honor and proper behavior. It is infuriating."

"And so grossly unfair," Anne added vehemently. "Just one more example of why I

feel the married state has so little to offer an intelligent woman."

"Why did he have to write Featherstone those love letters?" Sophy asked in soft

anguish.

"If he put his feelings into writing, then the entire affair must have occurred

a long time ago. Only a very young man would make that mistake," Jane observed.

Ah, yes, thought Sophy. A young man. A young man who was still capable of strong

romantic emotion. It would seem that all such sentiment had been burned out of

Julian. The feelings she longed to hear him express to her he had squandered

years ago on women such as Charlotte Featherstone and Elizabeth. It would seem

there was nothing left for Sophy at all. Nothing.

In that moment she hated both Elizabeth and Charlotte with all the passion in

her soul.

"I wonder why Featherstone did not send this note to Ravenwood?" Anne mused.

Jane's mouth curved wryly. "Probably because she knew full well Ravenwood would

tell her to go to the devil. I do not see Sophy's husband paying blackmail, do

you?"

"I do not know him very well," Anne admitted, "but from all accounts, no, I do

not see him sending the two hundred pounds to Featherstone. Not even to spare

Sophy the humiliation that is bound to follow the publication of those horrid

letters."

"So," concluded Jane, "knowing she stands little chance of getting any money out

of Ravenwood, Featherstone has decided to try blackmailing Sophy, instead."

"I will never pay blackmail to that woman," Sophy vowed, her hands tightening so

abruptly on the reins that her mare tossed her head in startled protest.

"But what else can you do?" Anne asked gently. "Surely you do not want those

letters to appear in print. Only think of the gossip that will ensue."

"It will not be that bad," Jane said soothingly. "Everyone will know the affair

happened long before Ravenwood married Sophy."

"The timing of the affair will not matter," Sophy said dully. "There will be

talk and we all know it. This will not be simple gossip Featherstone will be

repeating. She will actually be printing letters that Julian himself wrote.

Everyone will be discussing those blasted love notes. Quoting them at parties

and the opera, no doubt. The entire ton will wonder if he has written similar

letters to me and perhaps plagiarized himself in the process. I cannot bear it,

I tell you."

"Sophy's right," Anne agreed. "And she is even more vulnerable because she is a