Seduction (43 page)

light-headed with her anger but she struggled desperately to conceal it. Her

fate, she sensed, hinged on keeping a tight rein on her emotions.

Waycott chuckled reminiscently. "She did not remain innocent for long, I assure

you. I am accounted a most excellent lover, Sophy, as you will soon discover."

His eyes narrowed suddenly. "But that reminds me, my dear, I must ask you how

you came by the ring."

"Yes. The ring. Where and when did you lose it, my lord?"

"I am not certain." Waycott frowned. "But it is possible the village girl stole

it. She always claimed she was a member of the gentry but I knew better. She was

the offspring of some village merchant. Yes, I have often wondered if she stole

the ring from me while I slept. She was always after me, demanding some symbol

of my love. Stupid chit. But how did the ring get into your hands?"

"I told you the night of the masquerade ball. May I inquire how you knew I was

wearing the gypsy costume?"

"What? Oh, that. It was simple enough to have one of my footmen ask one of your

maids what Lady Ravenwood planned to wear that evening. It was easy to find you

in the crowd. But the ring was a surprise. Now I recall you said that you had

acquired it from a friend of yours." Waycott pursed his lips. "But how does it

happen that a lady of your class becomes friends with a tradesman's daughter?

Did she work for your family?"

"As it happens," Sophy forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly, "we knew

each other rather well."

"But she did not tell you about me, did she? You showed no signs of knowing me

when we met in London."

"No, she never confided the name of her lover." Sophy looked directly at him.

"She is dead now, my lord. Along with your babe. She took an overdose of

laudanum."

"Stupid wench." He shrugged the issue aside with an elegant movement of his

shoulders. "I am afraid I shall have to ask you to return the ring to me. It

cannot be terribly important to you."

"But it is to you?"

"I am rather fond of it." Waycott's smile was taunting. "It symbolizes certain

victories, past and present."

"I no longer have the ring," Sophy said calmly. "I gave it to Ravenwood a few

days ago."

Waycott's eyes burned for an instant. "Why the devil did you give it to him?"

"He was curious about it." She wondered if that would alarm Waycott.

"He can discover nothing about it. All who wear the ring are bound to silence.

Nevertheless, I intend to have it returned to me. Soon, my dear, you will get it

back from Ravenwood."

"It is not easy to take anything away from my husband that he does not choose to

relinquish."

"You are wrong," Waycott said triumphantly. "I have helped myself to Ravenwood's

possessions before and I will do so again."

"You are referring to Elizabeth, I suppose?"

"Elizabeth was never his. I am referring to these." He crossed the chamber and

bent over the basket on the hearth. When he straightened he was holding a

handful of green fire. "I brought them along because I thought you might find

them interesting. Ravenwood cannot give them to you, my dear. But I can."

"The emeralds," Sophy breathed, genuinely astounded. She stared at the cascade

of green stones and then jerked her eyes back to Waycott's fever bright gaze.

"You've had them all along?"

"Since the night my beautiful Elizabeth died. Ravenwood never guessed, of

course. He searched the house for them and sent word to all the jewelers in

London that if anyone came into possession of the gems, he would willingly

double the asking price. Word has it that one or two unscrupulous merchants

tried to produce copies of the originals in order to claim the doubled price but

Ravenwood was unfortunately not deceived. A pity. That would have been the final

irony, would it not? Think of Ravenwood saddled with false stones as well as two

false wives."

Sophy straightened her shoulders, unable to resist the taunt, even though she

knew it would be better if she kept silent. "I am Ravenwood's true wife and I

will not play him false."

"Yes, my dear, you will. And what's more, you will do so wearing these

emeralds." He let the necklace stream from palm to palm. He seemed hypnotized by

the shimmering green waterfall. "Elizabeth always enjoyed it that way. It gave

her a special pleasure to put on the emeralds before she got into bed with me.

She would make such sweet love to me while wearing these stones." Waycott looked

up suddenly. "You will like doing it that way, too."

"Will I?" Sophy's palms were damp. She must not say anything more that would

goad him further she told herself. She must let him think she was his helpless

victim, a meek rabbit who would not give him any resistance.

"Later, Sophy," Waycott promised. "Later, I will show you how beautiful the

Ravenwood emeralds look on a false Ravenwood bride. You will see how the

firelight makes them glow against your skin. Elizabeth was molten gold when she

wore these."

Sophy looked away from his strange eyes, concentrating on the basket of

provisions. "I assume we have a long night ahead of us, my lord. Would you mind

if I had something to eat and a cup of tea? I am feeling quite weak."

"But, of course, my dear." He swept a hand toward the hearth. "As you can see, I

have taken pains to ensure your every comfort. I had a meal prepared for us at a

nearby inn. Elizabeth and I often picnicked here before we made love. I want

everything to be just as it was with her. Everything."

"I see."

Was he as mad as Elizabeth had been, she wondered. Or simply crazed with

jealousy and the effects of lost love? Either way, Sophy told herself that her

only hope lay in keeping Waycott calm and unalarmed.

"You are not as beautiful as she was," Waycott observed, studying her.

"No, I realize that. She was very lovely."

"But the emeralds will help you look more like her when the time comes." He

dropped the jewels into the basket.

"About the food, my lord," Sophy said tentatively. "Would you mind if I prepared

us a small picnic now?"

Waycott looked out through the open door. "It's getting dark, isn't it?"

"Quite dark."

"I will build us a fire." He smiled, looking pleased with himself for having

come up with the idea.

"An excellent thought. It will soon be quite chilly in here. If you would remove

this cloak and the ropes that bind me I would be able to prepare the meal."

"Untie you? I don't think that is such a good idea, my dear. Not yet. I believe

you are still far too likely to dash out into the woods at the first opportunity

and I simply cannot allow that."

"Please, my lord." Sophy lowered her eyes, doing her best to appear weary and

lacking in spirit. "I want nothing more than to prepare us a cup of tea and a

bit of bread and cheese."

"I think we can manage something."

Sophy tensed as Waycott came toward her. But she stood still as he untied the

ropes that secured the cloak. When the last of them came free, she inhaled a

deep sigh [of relief but she made no sudden move.

"Thank you, my lord," she said meekly. She took a step toward the hearth, eyeing

the open doorway.

"Not so fast, my dear." Waycott went down on one knee, reached beneath the hem

of her heavy riding skirt and grasped her ankle. Quickly he tied one end of the

rope above her half boot. Then he got to his feet, the other end of the rope

dangling from his hand. "There, now I have you secured like a bitch on a lead.

Go about your business, Sophy. I will enjoy having Ravenwood's woman serve me

tea."

Sophy took a few tentative steps toward the hearth, wondering if Waycott would

think it a pleasant game to yank her tied foot out from under her. But he merely

went over to the hearth and lit the fire. After he had a blaze going he sat down

on the pallet, the end of the rope in his hand and leaned his chin on his fist.

She could feel his eyes on her as she began investigating the provisions in the

basket. She held her breath as she lifted the kettle and then exhaled in relief

as she discovered it was full of water.

The shadows outside the door were very heavy now. Chilled evening air flowed

into the room. Sophy brushed her hands against the folds of her skirts and tried

to think which pocket contained the herbs she needed. She jumped when she felt

the rope twitch around her ankle.

"I believe it is time to shut the door," Waycott said as he got up from the

pallet and moved across the room. "We would not want you to get cold."

"No." As the door to freedom swung shut, Sophy fought back a wave of terror. She

closed her eyes and turned her face to the flames to hide her expression. This

was the man who was responsible for her sister's death. She would not allow fear

to incapacitate her. Her first goal was escape. Then she would find a way to

exact revenge.

"Feeling faint, my dear?" Waycott sounded amused.

Sophy opened her eyes again and stared down into the flames. "A little, my

lord."

"Elizabeth would not have been quivering like a rabbit. She would have found it

all a wonderful game. Elizabeth loved her little games."

Sophy ignored that as she turned her back on her captor and busied herself with

the small packet of tea that had been packed in the basket. She thanked heaven

for the voluminous folds of her riding habit. They acted as a screen for her

hands when she retrieved a small pouch of herbs from a pocket.

Panic shot through her when she glanced down and saw that she had retrieved

violet leaves instead of the herbs she needed. Hurriedly she stuffed the leaves

back into a pocket.

"Why did you not sell the emeralds?" she asked, trying to distract Waycott's

attention. She sat down on a stool in front of the hearth and made a production

out of adjusting her skirts. Her fingers closed around another small packet.

"That would have been difficult to do. I told you, every good jeweler in London

was watching for the emeralds to appear on the market. Even if I had sold them

stone, by stone, I would have been at risk. They are very uniquely cut gems and

would have been easily recognized. But in all truth, Sophy, I had no desire to

sell them."

"I understand. You liked knowing that you had stolen them from the Earl of

Ravenwood." She fumbled with the second packet of herbs, opening it cautiously

and combining the contents with the tea leaves. Then she fussed with the kettle

and teapot.

"You are very perceptive, Sophy. It is odd, but I have often felt that you and

you alone, truly understood me. You are wasted on Ravenwood, just as Elizabeth

was."

Sophy poured the boiling water into the pot and prayed she had used a sufficient

quantity of the sleeping herbs. Then she sat tensely on the stool, waiting for

the brew to steep. The final product would be bitter, she realized. She would

have to find some way to conceal the taste.

"Do not forget the cheese and bread, Sophy," Waycott admonished.

"Yes, of course." Sophy reached into the basket and removed a loaf of coarse

bread. Then she spotted the small container of sugar. Her trembling fingers

brushed the glittering emeralds as she picked up the sugar. "There is no knife

for the bread, my lord."

"I am not so foolish as to put a blade in your hands, Sophy. Tear the bread

apart."

She bent her head and did as he had instructed. Then she carefully arranged the

fragments of bread and chunks of strong cheese on a plate. When she was finished

she poured the tea into two cups. "All is ready, Lord Waycott. Do you wish to

eat by the fire?"

"Bring the food over here. I would have you serve me the way you do your

husband. Pretend we are in the drawing room of Ravenwood Abbey. Show me what a

gracious hostess you can be."

Calling on every ounce of composure she possessed, Sophy carried the food across

the room and placed the cup in his hand. "I fear I may have added a bit too much

sugar to the tea. I hope it is not too sweet for your taste."

"I like my tea quite sweet." He watched her with anticipation as she put the

food in front of him. "Sit down and join me, my dear. You will need your

strength later. I have plans for us."

Sophy sat down slowly on the pallet, trying to keep as much distance as possible

between herself and Waycott. "Tell me, Lord Waycott, are you not afraid of what

Ravenwood will do when he discovers you have abused me?"

"He will do nothing. No man in his right mind would cross Ravenwood at cards or

cheat him in business but everyone knows Ravenwood will never again bestir

himself to risk his neck over a woman. He has made it clear he no longer thinks

enough of any woman to take a bullet for her." Waycott bit off a chunk of cheese

and a swallow of tea. He grimaced. "The tea is a bit strong."

Sophy closed her eyes for a moment. "I always make it that way for Ravenwood."

"Do you? Well, in that case, I will have it the same way."

"Why do you doubt that my husband would challenge you? He fought a duel over

Elizabeth, did he not?"

"Two of them. Or so legend would have it. But he engaged in those appointments