Seduction (36 page)

the house. "No need to cause a scene? Sophy, you do not appear to comprehend how

close you are to making me lose my temper tonight. I have made it very clear to

you I do not want you seeing Waycott under any circumstances."

"He followed me out into the garden. What was I supposed to do?"

"Why the devil did you go out into the garden alone in the first place?" Julian

shot back.

That brought her up short. She could not tell him about her attempt to get

information from Lord Utteridge. "It was very warm inside the ballroom," she

said carefully, trying to stick to the truth so that she would not humiliate

herself by getting caught in an outright lie.

"You should know better than to leave the ballroom alone. Where is your common

sense, Sophy?"

"I am not quite certain, my lord, but I begin to suspect that marriage might

have a very wearing effect on that particular faculty."

"This is not Hampshire where you can safely go traipsing off on your own."

"Yes, Julian."

He groaned. "Whenever you use that tone I know you are finding me tiresome.

Sophy, I realize that I spend a great deal of my time lecturing you, but I swear

you invite every word. Why do you insist on getting yourself into these

situations? Do you do it just to prove to both of us that I cannot control my

own wife?"

"It is not necessary to control me, my lord," Sophy said distantly. "But I am

beginning to believe you will never understand that. No doubt you feel the need

to do so because of what happened with your first wife. But I can assure you, no

amount of control exercised by you would have been sufficient to save her from

destroying herself. She was beyond your control or anyone else's. She was, I

believe, beyond human help altogether. You must not blame yourself for being

unable to save her."

Julian's strong hand closed heavily over her fingers on his arm. "Damn. I have

told you I do not discuss Elizabeth. I will say this much: God knows I failed to

protect her from whatever it was that drove her to such wildness and perhaps you

are right. Perhaps no man could have contained her kind of madness. But you may

be certain I will not fail to protect you, Sophy."

"But I am not Elizabeth," Sophy snapped out, "and I promise you, I am not a

candidate for Bedlam."

"I am well aware of that," Julian said soothingly. "And I thank God for it. But

you do need protection, Sophy. You are too vulnerable in some ways."

"That is not true. I can take care of myself, my lord."

"If you are so damned skilled at taking care of yourself, why were you

succumbing to Waycott's tragic little scene?" Julian snapped impatiently.

"He was not lying, you know. I am convinced he cared very deeply for Elizabeth.

He certainly should not have fallen in love with another man's wife, but that

does not alter the fact that his feelings for her were genuine."

"I will not argue the fact that he was fascinated by her. Believe me, the man

was not alone in his affliction. There is no doubt, however, that his actions

tonight were merely a ploy to gain your sympathy."

"What is wrong with that, pray? We all need sympathy on occasion."

"With Waycott, it would have been the first step into a treacherous sea. Given

the smallest opportunity, Sophy, he will suck you under. His goal is to seduce

you and throw the fact of your seduction in my face. Need I be more blatant

about it than that?"

Sophy was incensed. "No, my lord, you are quite clear on the subject. But I

think you may also be quite wrong about the Viscount's feelings. In any event, I

give you my solemn vow I will not be seduced by him or anyone else. I have

already promised you my loyalty. Why do you not trust me?"

Julian bit off a frustrated exclamation. "Sophy, I did not mean to imply you

would willingly fall for his ruse."

"I believe, my lord," Sophy went on, ignoring his efforts to placate her, "that

the least you can do is to give me your solemn assurance that you accept my word

on the subject."

"Damn it, Sophy, I told you, I did not mean—"

"Enough." Sophy came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the path, forcing him to

stop also. She looked up at him with fierce determination. "Your vow of honor

that you will trust me not to get myself seduced by Waycott or anyone else. I

will have your word, my lord, before I go another step with you."

"Will you, indeed?" Julian studied her moonlit face for a long moment, his own

expression as remote and as unreadable as ever.

"You owe me that much, Julian. Is it really so hard to say the words? When you

gave me the bracelet and Culpeper's herbal you claimed you held me in esteem. I

want some proof of that esteem and I am not talking about diamonds or emeralds."

Something flickered in Julian's gaze as he lifted his hands to cup her upturned

face. "You are a ferocious little thing when your sense of honor is touched on

the quick."

"No more ferocious than you would be, my lord, if it was your honor that was

being called into question."

His brows rose with casual menace. "Are you going to call it into question if I

foil to give you the answer you want?"

"Of course not. I have no doubt but that your honor is quite untarnishable. I

want assurance from you that you have the same degree of respect for mine. If

esteem is all you feel for me, my lord, then, by heaven, you can give me some

meaningful evidence of your regard."

He stood silent another long moment, gazing down into her eyes. "You ask a great

deal, Sophy."

"No more than you ask of me."

He nodded slowly, reluctantly, conceding a major point. "Yes, you are right," he

said quietly. "I do not know any other woman who would argue the issue of honor

in such a fashion. In fact, I do not know any women who even concern themselves

with the notion."

"Perhaps it is only that a man pays no heed to a woman's feelings on the subject

except on those occasions when her loss of honor threatens to jeopardize his

own."

"No more, I beg you. I surrender." Julian raised a hand to ward off further

argument. "Very well, madam, you have my most solemn vow that I will put my full

faith and trust in your womanly honor."

A tight knot of tension eased inside Sophy. She smiled tremulously, knowing what

it had cost him to make the concession. "Thank you, Julian." Impulsively she

stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth lightly against his. "I will never betray

you," she whispered earnestly.

"Then there is no reason we should not do very well together, you and I." His

arms closed almost roughly around her, pulling her close against his lean, hard

length. His mouth came down on hers, heavy and demanding and strangely urgent.

When Julian finally raised his head a moment later, there was a familiar look of

anticipation in his eyes.

"Julian?"

"I think, my most loyal wife, that it is time we went home. I have plans for the

remainder of our evening."

"Do you, indeed, my lord?"

"Most definitely." He took her arm again and led her toward the ballroom with

such long strides that Sophy was obliged to skip to keep pace. "I believe we

will take our leave of our hostess immediately."

But when they walked through the front door of their own house a short time

later, Guppy was waiting for them with a rare expression of grave concern.

"There you are, my lord. I was just about to send a footman to find you at your

club. Your aunt, Lady Sinclair, has apparently taken very ill and Miss

Rattenbury has twice sent a message requesting my lady's assistance."

FIFTEEN

Julian prowled his bedchamber restlessly, aware that his inability to sleep was

a direct result of the knowledge that Sophy was not next door in her own room.

Where she should be. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair and wondered

exactly when and how he had arrived at a state of affairs in which he could no

longer sleep properly if Sophy was not nearby.

He dropped into the chair he had commissioned from the younger Chippendale a few

years ago when both he and the cabinetmaker had been much taken with the

Neoclassic style. The chair was a reflection of the idealism of his youth,

Julian thought in a rare moment of insight.

During that same era, which now seemed so far in the past, he had been known to

argue the Greek and Latin classics until late at night, involve himself in the

radical liberal politics of the Reform Whigs and even thought it quite necessary

to put bullets in the shoulders of two men who had dared to impugn Elizabeth's

honor.

Much had changed in the past few years, Julian thought. He rarely had time or

inclination to argue the classics these days; he'd come to the conclusion that

the Whigs, even the liberal ones, were no less corrupt than the Tories; and he

had long since acknowledged that the notion of Elizabeth having any honor at all

was quite laughable.

Absently he smoothed his hands over the beautifully worked mahogany arms of the

chair. Part of him still responded to the pure, classic motifs of the design, he

realized with a sense of surprise. Just as part of him had insisted on trying a

few lines of poetry to go with the diamond bracelet and the herbal he had given

Sophy. The verse had been rusty and awkward.

He had not written any poetry since Cambridge and the early days with Elizabeth

and in all honesty he knew he'd never had a talent for it. After one or two

tries he had impatiently crumpled the paper in his fist, tossing it aside in

favor of the brief note he had finally written to accompany the gifts to Sophy.

But that was not the end of it, apparently. Tonight he had received further,

disquieting evidence that some of his youthful idealism still survived even

though he had done everything he could to crush it beneath the weight of a

cynical, realistic view of the world. He could not deny that something in him

had responded to Sophy's demand for proof that he respected her sense of honor.

Julian wondered if he should have agreed to let her spend the night with Fanny

and Harriett. Not that he could have influenced her decision to do so, he

reflected wryly. From the moment Sophy had received Guppy's message, she had

been unswervable in her determination to go immediately to Fanny's bedside.

Julian had not argued the matter. He was genuinely worried about his aunt's

condition. Fanny was eccentric, unpredictable, and occasionally outrageous, but

Julian realized he was quite fond of her. Since the death of his elderly

parents, she had been the only member of the Ravenwood clan he genuinely cared

about.

After receiving the message, Sophy had delayed only long enough to change her

clothes and wake her maid. Mary had bustled about, packing a few necessities

while

Sophy had collected her medicine chest and her precious copy of Culpeper's

herbal.

"1 am almost out of several herbs," she had fretted to Julian in the carriage

that he had ordered to take her to Fanny's. "Perhaps one of the local

apothecaries can provide me with some good quality chamomile and Turkish

rhubarb. It is a shame that Old Bess is so far away. Her herbs are by far the

most reliable."

At Fanny's they had been greeted at the door by a distraught Harriett. It was

the sight of the normally placid Harriett in a state of anxiety that brought

home to Julian how ill his aunt must be.

"Thank God you are here, Sophy. I have been so worried. I wanted to send for

Doctor Higgs but Fanny won't hear of it. She says he is nothing but a charlatan

and she will not allow him through the door of her room. I cannot blame her. The

man loses more patients than he saves. But I did not know what else to do except

send for you. I do hope you don't mind?"

"Of course I do not mind. I will go to her immediately, Harry." Sophy had bid

Julian a hasty farewell and flown up the stairs, a footman hurrying behind her

with her medicine chest.

Harriett turned back to Julian who was still standing in the hall. She looked at

him anxiously. "Thank you for allowing her to come out like this at such a late

hour."

"I could not have stopped her, even had I wished to do so," Julian said. "And

you know I am fond of Fanny. I want her to have the best care and I rather agree

with her about the doctor. The only remedies Higgs knows are bleeding and

purging."

Harriett sighed. "I fear you are right. I have never had great faith in bleeding

and believe me, poor Fanny does not need any further purging. She has already

experienced quite enough of that sort of treatment because of this vile ailment

she had contracted. Which leaves only Sophy and her herbs."

"Sophy is very good with her herbs," Julian said reassuringly. "I can personally

testify to that. I have the healthiest, most robust staff in town this season."

Harriett smiled distractedly at the small attempt at humor. "Yes, I know. Our

staff is getting along very well, too, thanks to her various recommendations.

And my rheumatism is much more manageable since I began using Sophy's recipe for

it. Whatever would we do without her now, my lord?"