Seduction

NINETEEN

We were all so worried, my lady. Scared to death some-thin' had happened to you. You have no idea. The stable lads were beside themselves. When your mare comes runnin' back into the yard, they started lookin' for you right off but they couldn't find no sign. Somebody went to see Old Bess and she was as worried as the rest of us when she found out you hadn't come home.

"I am sorry to have caused so much concern, Mary." Sophy was only half-listening to her maid's description of what had happened after she had failed to return that afternoon. Her mind was on the forthcoming interview with Julian. He had not believed her. She ought to have known he would guess immediately that she was lying about having been thrown by the mare. What was she going to tell him now, Sophy wondered frantically.

"And then the head groom, who is always one for predictin' the crack o' doom, shakes his head and says we should start draggin' the pond for your body. Lord, I about collapsed, I did, when I heard that. But all the fuss weren't nothin' compared with what happened when his lordship arrived unexpected like. Even staff who'd been here at the Abbey during the time the first Countess was here said they hadn't ever seen his lordship in such a fury. Threatened to dismiss us one and all, he did."

A knock on the door interrupted Mary's detailed account of the afternoon's events. She went to answer it and found a maid with a tea tray. "Here, I'll take that. Run along now. Her ladyship needs rest." Mary closed the door again and set the tray down on a table. "Oh, look, Cook put some cakes on the tray for you. Have one with your tea, ma'am. It'll give you some strength."

Sophy looked at the teapot and immediately felt slightly queasy. "Thank you, Mary. I'll have the tea in a bit. I am not very hungry at the moment."

"It's the blow on the head that does it," Mary said knowledgeably. "Affects the stomach, it does. But you really should have a cup of tea, at the least, ma'am.

The door opened again and Julian walked into the room without bothering to knock. He was still wearing his riding clothes and he had obviously overheard the maid's last comment. "Run along, Mary. I'll see that she drinks her tea."

Startled by his arrival, Mary dropped a quick curtsy and backed nervously toward the door. "Yes, my lord," she said as she put her hand on the doorknob. She started to leave the room and then paused to say with a small touch of defiance. "We was all very worried about madam."

"I know you were, Mary. But she is home safe and sound now and I think you will all take much better care of her in the future, will you not?"

"Oh, yes, my lord. Won't let her out of our sight."

"Excellent. You may go now, Mary."

Mary fled.

Sophy tightened her fingers in her lap as the door closed behind her maid. "You need not terrorize the staff, Julian. They all mean well and what happened this afternoon was certainly not their fault. I—" She cleared her throat. "I've ridden that path dozens of times during the past few years. There was no reason for me to have a groom along. This is the country, not the city."

"But they did not find your poor, unconscious body lying along the path that leads to Old Bess's cottage, did they?" Julian lowered himself into a chair near the window and glanced around the room. "I see you have made several changes in here and elsewhere, my dear."

The rapid change of subject was disconcerting. "I hope you don't mind, my lord, " Sophy said in a stifled voice. She had a terrible premonition that he had decided on a strategy of toying with her until her nerve broke and she confessed everything.

"No, Sophy. I do not mind in the least. I have not liked this house for some time." Julian's gaze slid back to her anxious face. "Any changes in Ravenwood Abbey will be most welcome, I assure you. How are you feeling?"

"Very well, thank you." The words seemed to stick in her throat.

"I am relieved to hear it." He stretched out his booted feet and lounged back in the chair, his big hands steepled loosely in front of him. "You had us all quite worried, you know."

"I am sorry for that." Sophy took a breath and struggled to recall the small, carefully plotted details of her tale. Her theory was that if she propped up her sagging story with a large number of specifics, she might still salvage it. "I think it was a small animal that startled my mare. A squirrel, perhaps. Normally there would have been no problem. As you know, I am a reasonably skilled rider."

"I have often admired your riding skills," Julian agreed blandly.

Sophy felt herself flushing. "Yes, well, as it happened, I had just been returning from Old Bess's and I had purchased a large quantity of herbs from her and I had the packets arranged in my skirts. I was busy adjusting them, the packets, that is, as we went along because I was afraid some of the herbs might slip out enroute, you see."

"I see."

Sophy stared at him for a few seconds, feeling mesmerized by the steady, waiting expression in his eyes. He appeared so serene and patient but she knew it was a hunter's patience she saw in him. The knowledge rattled her. "And… and I am afraid my attention was not on my riding as it should have been. I was fumbling with a packet of…of dried rhubarb, I believe it was, when the mare shied. I never quite got my balance after that."

"That was the point at which you fell to the ground and struck your head?"

They had not found her lying unconscious along the path, Sophy reminded herself. "Not quite, my lord. I started to slip from the saddle at that point but, uh, I believe the mare carried me for some distance into the woods before I finally lost my seat altogether."

"Would it make this any easier for you if I told you I have just now returned from a ride along the path to Old Bess's cottage?"

Sophy eyed him uneasily. "You have, my lord?"

"Yes, Sophy," he said very gently. "I have. I took a torch with me and in 'he vicinity of the pond I discovered some rather interesting tracks. There appears to have been another horse and rider on that same path today."

Sophy leaped to her feet. "Oh, Julian, pray do not ask me any more questions tonight. I cannot talk right now. I am far too distraught. I was wrong when I said I felt well. The truth is I feel absolutely wretched."

"But not, I think, because of a blow on the head." Julian's voice was even softer and more reassuring than it had been a moment ago. "Perhaps you are making yourself ill with worry, my dear. You have my word that there is no necessity to do that."

Sophy did not understand or trust the tenderness she heard in his words. "I do not take your meaning, my lord."

"Why don't you come over here and sit with me for a moment while you calm yourself." He held out his hand.

Sophy glanced longingly at the offered hand and then at his face. She steeled herself against the lure he was offering. She must be strong. "There… there is no room on the chair for me, Julian."

"I will make room. Come here, Sophy. The situation is not nearly so bleak nor as complicated as you appear to think."

She told herself it would be a major error to go to him.

She would lose whatever strength of will she possessed if she allowed him to cosset her just now. But she ached to feel his arms around her again and in the end his outstretched hand was too much to resist in her tired, weakened condition.

"I should probably lie down for a while," she said as she took a step toward Julian.

"You will rest soon, little one, I promise you."

He continued to wait with that subtle air of limitless patience as she took a second and then a third step toward him.

"Julian, I should not do this," she breathed softly as his fingers closed over her hand, engulfing it.

"I am your husband, sweetheart." He tugged her down onto his lap and cradled her against his shoulder. "Who else can you talk to about what really happened today, if not me?"

At that she lost most of what was left of her fortitude. She had been through too much today. The kidnapping, the threat of rape, her narrow escape, the moment when she had held the pocket pistol in her hand and found herself unable to shoot Waycott—all conspired to weaken her.

If Julian had shouted at her or if he had been cold with rage, she might have been able to resist, but his soothing, tender tone was irresistible. She turned her face into the hollow of his shoulder and closed her eyes. His arms tightened comfortingly around her and his broad shoulders promised protection as nothing else could.

"Julian, I love you," she said into his shirt.

"I know, sweetheart. I know. So you will tell me the truth now, hm?"

"I cannot do that," she said starkly.

He did not argue the point. He just sat there stroking the curve of her back with his big, strong hands. There was silence in the room until Sophy, succumbing to the temptation once more, began to relax against him.

"Do you trust me, Sophy?"

"Yes, Julian."

"Then why will you not tell me the truth about what happened today?"

She heaved a sigh. "I am afraid, my lord."

"Of me?"

"No."

"I am pleased to hear that, at least." He paused for a moment and then said thoughtfully, "Some wives in your situation might have reason to fear their husbands."

"They must be wives whose husbands do not hold them in high esteem," Sophy said instantly. "Sad, unfortunate wives who do not enjoy either the respect or the trust of their husbands. I pity them."

Julian gave a muffled exclamation that sounded like something between a groan and a chuckle. He retied a velvet ribbon that had come undone on Sophy's dressing gown. "You, of course, are excluded from that group of females, my dear. You enjoy my esteem, my respect, and my trust, do you not?"

"So you have said, my lord." Wistfully, Sophy wondered what it would be like to have Julian's love added to the list.

"Then you are right not to fear me for, knowing you, I know very well that you did nothing wrong today. You would never betray me, would you, Sophy?"

Her fingers clenched around a handful of his shirt. "Never, Julian. Never in this life or any other. I am very glad you realize that."

"I do, my sweet." He fell silent again for another long moment and once more Sophy relaxed under the soothing stroke of his hand. "Unfortunately, I find that, although I trust you completely, my curiosity is not assuaged. I really must know what happened to you today. You must make allowances for the fact that I am your husband, Sophy. The title causes me to feel somewhat protective."

"Please, Julian, do not force me to tell you. I am all right, I promise you."

"It is not my intention to force you to do anything. We will play a guessing game, instead."

Sophy stiffened against him. "I do not want to play any games."

He paid no attention to the small protest. "You say you do not wish to tell me the full story because you are afraid. Yet you also claim you are not afraid of me. Therefore, we can safely conclude that you are afraid of someone else. Do you not trust me to be able to protect you, my dear?"

"It is not that, Julian." Sophy lifted her head quickly, anxious that he not doubt her faith in his ability to defend her. "I know you would go to any length to protect me."

"You are right," Julian said simply. "You are very important to me, Sophy."

"I understand, Julian." She touched her stomach fleetingly. "You are no doubt concerned because of your future heir. But you need not worry about the babe, truly—"

Julian's emerald eyes flickered for the first time with a show of real anger. It was gone almost at once. He cradled her face between his palms. "Let us have this clear, Sophy. You are important to me because you are Sophy, my dear, unconventional, honorable, loving wife—not because of the child you carry."

"Oh." She could not tear her eyes away from his brilliant gaze. This was as close as he had ever come to telling her he loved her. It might be as close as he ever got. "Thank you, Julian."

"Do not thank me. It is I who owe you thanks." He covered her mouth with his and kissed her with slow thoroughness. When he finally raised his head, there was a familiar gleam in his eyes. His mouth curved faintly. "You are a powerful distraction, my dear, but I think that this time I will endeavor to resist. At least for a while longer."

"But, Julian—"

"Now, we will finish our guessing game. You are afraid of whoever was on the path by the pond this afternoon. You do not seem to fear for your own safety, so we must conclude that you fear for mine."

"Julian, please, I beg of you—"

"If you fear for my safety, yet you will not give me a fair warning of the danger, it follows that you do not fear a direct attack on my person. You would not conceal that important information from me, would you?"

"No, my lord." She knew now it was hopeless to keep the truth to herself. The hunter was closing in on his prey.

"We are left with only one other possibility," Julian said with inevitable logic. "If you are afraid for me but you do not fear I will be attacked, then it must be that you are afraid that I will challenge this mysterious, unknown third party to a duel."

Sophy straightened in his lap, grasped two fistfulls of his shirt and narrowed her eyes. "Julian, you must give me your word of honor that you will not do that. You must promise me for the sake of our unborn child. I will not have you risking your life. Do you hear me?"

"It is Waycott, is it not?"

Sophy's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"It was not terribly difficult to guess. What happened on the path this afternoon, Sophy?"

She stared up at him in helpless frustration. The gentle, reassuring expression in Julian's eyes was vanishing as though it had never existed. In its place was the cold, prowling look of the predator. He had won the immediate battle and now he was preparing his strategy for the one that lay ahead.

"I will not let you call him out, Julian. You will not risk a bullet from Waycott, do you understand?"

"What happened on the path today?"

Sophy could have wept. "Julian, please—"

"What happened today, Sophy?"

He had not raised his voice but she knew immediately his patience was exhausted. He would have his answer. Sophy pushed herself up off his lap. He allowed her to get to her feet but his eyes never left her averted face.

Slowly she walked across the room to the window and stood staring out into the night. In short, concise sentences she told him the entire tale.

"He killed them, Julian," she concluded, her hands knotted in front of her. "He killed them both. He drowned Elizabeth because she had finally goaded him too far by taunting him with her plan to rid herself of his babe. He killed my sister by treating her as though she were nothing more important than a casual plaything."

"I knew about your sister. I put the pieces of that puzzle together myself before I left London. And I have always had my suspicions about what happened to Elizabeth that night. I wondered if one of her lovers had finally been pushed too far."

Sophy leaned her forehead against the cool glass pane. "God help me, I could not bring myself to pull the trigger when I had the chance. I am such a coward."

"No, Sophy, you are no coward." Julian moved to stand directly behind her. "You are the bravest woman I have ever met and I would trust you with my life as well as my honor. You must know you did the honorable thing this evening. One does not shoot an unconscious man in cold blood, no matter what he has done."

Sophy turned slowly to look up at him with a sense of uncertainty. "But if I had shot him when I had the chance it would all be over by now. I would not have to worry about you."

"You would have had to live with the knowledge that you had killed a man and I would not wish that fate on you, sweetheart, no matter how much Waycott deserved to die."

Sophy experienced a twinge of impatience. "Julian, I must tell you that I am not so much concerned with whether or not I behaved honorably as I am with the fact that I did not settle the matter once and for all. I am afraid that when it comes to this sort of thing, I have a very practical streak in me. The man is a murderer and he is still free."

"Not for much longer."

Alarm flared within her. "Julian, please, you must promise me you will not challenge him. You could be killed, even if Waycott fought a fair duel which is highly unlikely."

Julian smiled. "As I understand it, he is in no condition to fight at all at the moment. You said he was unconscious, did you not? I can well believe he will remain so for some time. I, myself, have had extensive experience with your special tea brews, if you recall."

"Do not tease me, Julian."

He caught her wrists and brought her hands to his chest. "I am not teasing you, sweetheart. I am just exceedingly grateful you are alive and unhurt. You will never know what it did to me tonight to arrive here and find that you were missing."

She refused to be comforted because she knew what lay ahead. "What will you do, Julian?"

"That depends. How long do you estimate Waycott will be asleep?"

Sophy frowned. "Another three or four hours, perhaps."

"Excellent. I will deal with him later, then." He began untying the ribbons of her dressing gown. "In the meantime I can spend some time reassuring myself that you are, indeed, unhurt."

Sophy looked up at him very earnestly as the gown fell away from her. "Julian, I must have your word of honor that you will not challenge Waycott."

"Do not worry about it, my dear." He kissed the curve of her throat.

"Your word, Julian. You will give it to me." There was nothing more she wanted at the moment than to be in Julian's arms but this was far more important. She stood stiff and unyielding, ignoring the warm, inviting touch of his mouth on her skin.

"Do not concern yourself with what happens to Waycott. I will deal with everything. He will never come near you again."

"Damn you, Julian, / will have your promise not to call him out. Your safety is far more important to me than your stupid, male sense of honor. I have told you what I think of dueling. It settles nothing and can easily get you killed into the bargain. You will not challenge Waycott, do you hear me? Give me your word, Julian."

He stopped kissing the hollow of her shoulder and slowly raised his head to look down at her. He was scowling for the first time. "I am not a bad shot, Sophy."

"I do not care how accurate your aim is, I will not have you take such a risk and that is final."

His brows rose slightly. "It is?"

"Yes, damn you. I will not take the chance of losing you in a silly duel with a man who will most likely cheat. I feel about this precisely the way you felt the morning you interrupted my appointment with Charlotte Featherstone. I will not stand for it."

"I do not believe I have ever heard you so adamant, my dear," Julian said dryly.

"Your word, Julian. Give it to me."

He sighed in capitulation. "Very well. If it means so much to you, you have my solemn vow not to challenge Waycott to a duel with pistols."

Sophy closed her eyes in overwhelming relief. "Thank you, Julian."

"Now may I be allowed to make love to my wife?"

She gave him a misty smile. "Yes, my lord."

Julian roused himself an hour later and propped himself on his elbow to look down into Sophy's worried eyes. The glow she always wore after his lovemaking was already wearing off to be replaced again by concern. It was rather reassuring to know that his safety meant so much to her.

"You will be careful, Julian?"

"Very careful."

"Perhaps you should take some of the stable lads with you."

"No, this is between Waycott and myself. I will handle this alone."

"But what will you do?" she demanded fretfully.

"Force him to leave the country. I believe I shall suggest that he emigrate to America."

"But how can you make him go?"

Julian leaned over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders. "Stop asking so many questions, my love. I do not have time to answer them now. I will give you a full accounting when I return. I swear it." He brushed his mouth against hers. "Get some rest."

"That is a ridiculous instruction. I will not be able to sleep a wink until you return."

"Then read a good book."

"Wollstonecraft," she threatened. "I shall study A Vindication on the Rights of Women until you return."

"That knowledge will indeed force me to hurry back to your side," Julian said, getting to his feet. "I cannot have you any more thoroughly corrupted by that nonsense about the rights of women than you already are."

She sat up and reached for his hand. "Julian, I am frightened."

"I know the feeling. I felt the same way when I arrived here this evening and found you missing." He gently freed his hand and began to dress. "But in this case, you need have no fear. You have my promise I will not propose a duel to Waycott, remember?"

"Yes, but—" She broke off, nibbling her lower lip in concern. "But I do not like this, Julian."

"It will all be over soon." He fastened his breeches and sat down in the chair to tug on his boots. "I will be home before dawn unless you have made Waycott so groggy with your special tea that he cannot understand simple English."

"I did not give him as much as I gave you," she said uneasily. "I was afraid he would notice the odd taste."

"How unfortunate. I would have preferred Waycott suffer the same appalling headache I was forced to endure."

"You had been drinking that night, Julian," she explained seriously. "It changed the effects of the herbs. Waycott had only the tea. He will awake fairly clearheaded."

"I will remember that." Julian finished putting on his boots. He strode to the door and paused to glance back at her. A surge of raw possessiveness went through him. It was followed by a shocking tenderness. She was everything to him, he realized. Nothing in the world was more important than his sweet Sophy.

"Did you forgot something, Julian?" she asked from the shadows of the bed.

"Only a minor detail," he said quietly. His hand fell away from the doorknob and he went back to the bed. He leaned down and kissed her soft mouth once more. "I love you."

He saw her eyes widen in astonishment but he knew he could not afford the time it would take to listen to her demands for details and explanations. He went back across the room and opened the door.

"Julian, wait—"

"I will be back as soon as possible, sweetheart. Then we will talk."

"No, wait, there is something else I must tell you. The emeralds."

"What about them?"

"I almost forgot. Waycott has them. He stole them the night he killed Elizabeth. They are in the basket on the hearth, right under his pistol."

"How very interesting. I must remember to bring them back with me," Julian said and went out into the hall.

The old Norman ruin was an eerie, uninviting jumble of stones and deep shadows in the moonlight. For the first time in years Julian experienced the same response to it that he had often had as a boy—it was a place where one could easily learn to believe in ghosts. The thought of Sophy being held captive within the dark confines of this place added fuel to the white hot fires of his anger.

He had managed to keep Sophy from seeing the depths of his fury because he had known it would alarm her. But it had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep his rage from showing.

One thing was certain: Waycott would pay for what he had tried to do to Sophy.

There was no sign of activity around the ruin as far as Julian could see. He walked the black into the nearest stand of trees, dismounted and draped the reins around a convenient limb. Then he made his way through the fragments of the ancient stone walls to the one room that was still standing. There was no glow of light from the narrow openings high up on the wall. The fire Sophy had said was burning on the hearth must have sunk into embers by now.

Julian had great faith in Sophy's skill with herbs but he decided not to take chances. He entered the chamber where she had been held with great caution. Nothing and no one stirred from within. He stood in the open doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. And then he spotted Waycott's sprawled body near the wall by the hearth.

Sophy was right. Things would be a great deal simpler if someone put a pistol to the Viscount's head and pulled the trigger. But there were some things a gentleman did not do. Julian shook his head in resignation and went over to the hearth to stoke up the fire.

When he was finished, he pulled up the stool and sat down. Idly he glanced into the basket and saw the emeralds pooled at the bottom beneath the pocket pistol. With a sense of satisfaction, he picked up the necklace and watched the stones glitter in the firelight. The Ravenwood emeralds were going to look very good on the new Countess of Ravenwood.

Twenty minutes later the Viscount stirred and groaned. Julian watched, unmoving, as Waycott slowly recovered his senses. He continued to wait while Waycott blinked and then frowned at the fire, waited as the man sat up and put a hand to his temple, waited until the Viscount finally began to realize there was someone else in the room.

"That's right, Waycott, Sophy is safe and now you must deal with me." Julian casually let the emeralds cascade from one palm to the other and back again. "I suppose it was inevitable that at some point you would finally go too far. You are a man obsessed, are you not?"

Waycott inched backward until he was sitting propped against the wall. He leaned his fair head against the damp stones and stared at Julian through lids narrowed with hatred. "So dear little Sophy ran straight to you, did she? And you believed every word she said, I suppose. I may be obsessed, Ravenwood, but you are a fool."

Julian glanced down at the glittering emeralds. "You are partially correct, Waycott. I was a fool once, a long time ago. I did not recognize a witch in a silk ball gown. But those days are over. In some ways, I almost pity you. The rest of us managed to extricate ourselves from Elizabeth's spell years ago. You alone remained ensnared."

"Because I alone loved her. The rest of you only wanted to use her. You wanted to steal her innocence and beauty and thereby tarnish it forever. I wanted to protect her."

"As I said, you are as obsessed as you ever were. If you had been content to suffer alone, I would have continued to ignore you. Unfortunately, you chose to try to use Sophy as a means of avenging yourself against me. That I cannot overlook or ignore. I warned you, Waycott. Now you will pay for involving Sophy and we will put an end to this whole business."

Waycott laughed crudely. "What did your sweet little Sophy tell you about what happened here today? Did she tell you I found her on the path by the pond? Did she tell you that she was on her way back from the same abortionist Elizabeth had consulted? Your dear, sweet, innocent Sophy is already scheming to rid herself of your heir, Ravenwood. She doesn't want to bear your brat any more than Elizabeth did."

For an instant, Sophy's words flashed in Julian's head and a lingering sense of guilt shot through him. I do not wish to be rushed into childbed.

Julian shook his head and smiled grimly at Waycott. "You are as clever as any footpad when it comes to sinking a knife into a man's back but in this case your aim is off. You see, Waycott, Sophy and I have gotten to know each other very well. She is an honorable woman. We have made a bargain, she and I, and while I regret to say I have not always upheld my end of the arrangement, she has always been true to her side. I know she went to see Old Bess for a fresh supply of herbs, not to seek an abortion."

"You are indeed a fool, Ravenwood, if you believe that. Did Sophy also lie to you about what happened over there on that pallet? Did she tell you how easily she pulled up her skirts and spread her thighs for me? She's not particularly skilled yet, but I expect she'll improve with practice."

Julian's fury momentarily slipped its leash. He dropped the emeralds to the floor and came up off the stool in one smooth, swift movement. He took two strides across the chamber and caught Waycott by the front of the shirt. Then he hauled the Viscount to his feet and slammed a fist into the handsome face. Something broke in the region of Waycott's nose and blood spurted. Julian hit him again.

"You son of a bitch, you don't want to admit you married a whore, do you?" Waycott slid sideways out of reach along the wall and wiped the back of his hand against his bleeding nose. "But you did, you rotten bastard. I wonder how long it will be until you realize it."

"Sophy would never dishonor herself or me. I know she did not allow you to touch her."

"Is that why you reacted so quickly when I told you what happened between Sophy and me?" Waycott taunted.

Julian damped down his rage. "It is useless trying to talk to you, Waycott. When it comes to this, you are truly beyond reason. I suppose I should pity you, but I fear I cannot allow even a madman to insult my wife."

Waycott eyed him uneasily. "You will never call me out. We both know that."

"Unfortunately, you are right," Julian agreed, thinking of the vow he had made to Sophy. He had broken, or at least bent, far too many promises to her already. He would not break another even though he longed for nothing more than to be free to put a bullet into Waycott. He walked over to the hearth and stood staring down into the flames.

"I knew it," Waycott gloated. "I told her you would never again risk your neck over a woman. You have lost your taste for vengeance. You will not challenge me."

"No, Waycott, I will not call you out." Julian clasped his hands behind his back and turned his head to smile at the other man with cool anticipation. "Not for the reasons you assume but for other, private reasons. Rest assured, however, that decision will not prevent me from accepting a challenge from you."

Waycott looked baffled. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"I will not call you out, Waycott. I am bound by a certain vow in that regard. But I think we can arrange matters so that you will finally feel obliged to call me out. And when you do, I can promise you, I will be most eager to meet you. I have already chosen my seconds. You remember Daregate, don't you? And Thurgood? They will be only too happy to assist me and to ensure that matters are conducted with utmost fairness. Daregate, you know, is very good at spotting a cheat. I can even supply the pistols. I await your earliest convenience."

Waycott's mouth fell open. Then the expression of shock was replaced with a sneer. "Why should I call you out? It is not my wife who has betrayed me."

"This is not a matter of a wife's betrayal. There has been no betrayal. Do not waste any more breath trying to convince me that I have been cuckolded, because I know the truth. The sleeping potion in your tea and that rope on the floor that you used to tether Sophy are evidence enough. But as it happens I believed her before I saw the evidence. I already know my wife to be a woman of honor."

"A woman of honor? Honor is a meaningless term to a female."

"To a woman such as Elizabeth, yes. But not to a woman like Sophy. We will not discuss the subject of honor again, however. There is no point because you, yourself, do not have any comprehension of the matter. Now, back to the issue at hand."

"Are you calling my honor into question?" Waycott snarled.

"Certainly. And what is more, I will continue to call your so-called honor into question in the most public sort of way until you finally issue a challenge or emigrate to America. Those are the two choices you face, Waycott."

"You cannot force me to do either."

"If you think not, you have a surprise in store. I will, indeed, force you to make your choice. I will hound you until you do so. You see, I intend to make life intolerable for you here in England, Waycott. I will be like a wolf nipping at your heels until I draw blood."

Waycott was very pale in the firelight. "You are bluffing."

"Shall I tell you how it will be? Listen well, Waycott and hear your fate. No matter what you do or where you go in England, I or an agent of mine will be behind you. If you see a horse at Tattersall's you wish to purchase, I will outbid you and see that the animal goes to another. If you try to buy a new pair of boots at Hoby's, or order a coat from Weston's, I will inform the proprietors that they, will not have any future business from me if they continue to serve you."

"You cannot do that," Waycott hissed.

"And that is only the beginning," Julian continued relentlessly. "I shall let all the owners of the various parcels of land that surround your estate in Suffolk know that I am willing to buy them out. In time, Waycott, your lands will be surrounded by properties owned by me. Furthermore, I shall make certain that your reputation suffers so that no reputable club will have you and no respectable hostess will want you under her roof."

"It will never work."

"Yes it will, Waycott. I have the money, land, and a sufficiently powerful title to ensure that my plan will work. What's more, I will have Sophy on my side. Her name is golden in London these days, Waycott. When she turns against you, the entire social world will turn against you."

"No." Waycott shook his head furiously, his eyes wild. "She will never do so. I did not hurt her. She will understand why I did what I did. She is sympathetic to me."

"Not any longer."

"Because I brought her here? But I can explain that to her."

"You will never have the chance. Even if I allowed you to get close enough to plead with her, which I have no intention of doing, you would find no sympathy or leniency from that quarter. You see, Waycott, you sealed your own doom before you even met Sophy."

"What in God's name are you talking about now?"

"Remember that young woman whom you seduced here three years ago and whom you later abandoned when she got pregnant? The one who took your devilish ring? The one you told Sophy was unimportant? The one you called the village whore?"

"What about her?" Waycott screamed. "She was Sophy's sister."

Waycott's expression went blank with shock. "Oh, my God."

"Exactly," Julian said quietly. "You begin to perceive the depths of your problem. I see no point in my staying here any longer. Consider your two choices carefully, Waycott.

If I were you, I'd choose America. I've heard from those who patronize Manton that you are not a good marksman."

Julian turned his back on Waycott, picked up the emeralds and walked out the door. He had untied the black's reins before he heard the muffled shot from within the old castle.

He had been wrong. Waycott had had three choices, not two. It was obvious the Viscount had found the pocket pistol in the basket and taken the third way out.

Julian put one foot in the stirrup and then reluctantly decided to go back into the ominously silent ruin. The scene that awaited him would be unpleasant, to say the least, but given Waycott's general ineptitude it would be best to make certain the Viscount had not made a muddle of the whole thing.