Seduction

TWO

Lady Dorring, who had taken to her bed in a fit of despondency earlier in the day, revived completely in time for dinner on hearing that her granddaughter had come to her senses.

"I cannot imagine what got into you, Sophy," Lady Dorring said as she examined the Scotch broth being presented by Hindley, the butler who doubled as a footman at meals. "To turn down the Earl was past all understanding. Thank heaven you have put it right. Allow me to tell you, young woman, we should all be extremely grateful Ravenwood is willing to be so tolerant of your outlandish behavior."

"It does give one pause, doesn't it?" Sophy murmured.

"I say," Dorring exclaimed from the head of the table. "What do you mean by that?"

"Only that I have been puzzling over why the Earl should have made an offer for my hand in the first place."

"Why in heaven's name should he not have offered for you?" Lady Dorring demanded. "You are a fine-looking young woman from a well-bred, respectable family."

"I had my season, Grandmother, remember? I've seen how dazzling the town beauties can be and I cannot be compared to most of them. I could not compete with them five years ago and there is no reason to believe I can compete with them now. Nor do I have a sizable fortune to offer as a lure."

"Ravenwood don't need to marry for money," Lord Dorring stated bluntly. "Fact is, the marriage settlements he's suggesting are extremely generous. Extremely."

"But he could marry for land or money or beauty if he so desired," Sophy said patiently. "The question I asked myself was why was he not doing so. Why select me? An interesting puzzle."

"Sophy, please, " Lady Dorring said in pained accents. "Do not ask such silly questions. You are charming and most presentable."

"Charming and most presentable describe the vast majority of the young women of the ton, most of whom also have the advantage of being younger than I. I knew I must have something else in my favor to warrant attracting the Earl of Ravenwood. I was interested to discover what it was. It was simple enough when I put my mind to the problem."

Lord Dorring regarded her with a genuine curiosity that was not particularly flattering. "What is it you think you have going for you, girl? I like you well enough, of course. Perfectly sound sort of granddaughter and all that, but I confess I did wonder myself why the Earl took such a fancy to you."

"Theo!"

"Sorry, my dear, sorry," Dorring apologized hastily to his incensed wife. "Just curious, you know."

"As was I," Sophy said promptly. "But I believe I have hit upon the reasoning Ravenwood is using. You see, I have three essential qualities that he feels he needs. First, I am convenient and, as Grandmother has pointed out, reasonably well-bred. He probably did not want to spend a lot of time on the matter of choosing a second wife. I have the impression he has more important things to concern him."

"Such as?" Dorring asked.

"Selecting a new mistress or a new horse or a new parcel of land. Any one of a thousand items might conceivably come before a wife in order of importance to the Earl," Sophy said.

"Sophy!"

"I fear it's true, Grandmother. Ravenwood has spent as little time as possible on making his offer. You must agree I have hardly been treated to anything even faintly resembling a courtship."

"Here, now," Lord Dorring interrupted briskly. "You can't hold it against the man that he ain't brought you any posies or love poems. Ravenwood don't strike me as the romantic type."

"I think you have the right of it, Grandfather. Ravenwood is definitely not the romantic sort. He has called here at Chesley Court only a handful of times and we've been invited to the Abbey on merely two occasions.

"I've told you, he ain't the kind to waste time on frippery matters," Lord Dorring said, obviously feeling obliged to defend another male. "He's got estates to see to and I hear he's involved in some building project in London. The man's busy.

"Just so, Grandfather." Sophy hid a smile. "But to continue, the second reason the Earl finds me so suitable is my advanced age. I do believe he feels that any woman who finds herself unmarried at this point in her life should be everlastingly grateful to the man who was kind enough to take her off the shelf. A grateful wife is, of course, a manageable wife."

"Don't think it's that so much," her grandfather said reflectively, "as it is he thinks a woman of your age is bound to be more sensible and levelheaded than some young twit with romantic notions. Said something to that effect this afternoon, I believe."

"Really, Theo." Lady Dorring glowered at her husband.

"You may be right," Sophy said to her grandfather. "Perhaps he was under the impression I would be more levelheaded than a seventeen-year-old girl who was just out of the schoolroom. Whatever the case, we may assume my age was a factor in the Earl's decision. But the last and by far the most important reason he chose me, I believe, is because I do not in any way resemble his late wife."

Lady Dorring nearly choked on the poached turbot that had just been put in front of her. "What has that to do with anything?"

"It is no secret the Earl has had his fill of beautiful women who cause him no end of trouble. We all knew Lady Ravenwood was in the habit of bringing her lovers to the Abbey. If we knew it, you can be certain his lordship did, too. No telling what went on in London."

"That's a fact," Dorring muttered. "If she was wild here in the country, she must have made Ravenwood's life pure hell in town. Heard he risked his young neck in a couple of duels over her. You can't blame him for wanting a second wife who won't go around attracting other males. No offense, Sophy, but you ain't the type to be giving him trouble in that line, and I expect he knows it."

"I wish both of you would cease this most improper conversation, " Lady Dorring announced. It was clear she had little hope she would be obeyed.

"Ah, but Grandmother, Grandfather is quite right. I am perfect as the next Countess of Ravenwood. After all, I am country-bred and can be expected to be content with spending the majority of my time at Ravenwood Abbey. And I won't be trailing my paramours behind me wherever I go. I was a total failure during my one season in London and presumably would be an even greater failure if I went out into Society again. Lord Ravenwood is well aware he will not have to waste time fending off my admirers. There will not be any."

"Sophy," Lady Dorring said with fine dignity, "that is quite enough. I will tolerate no more of this ridiculous conversation. It is most unseemly."

"Yes, Grandmother. But has it escaped your notice that unseemly conversations are always the most interesting?"

"Not another word out of you, my girl. And the same goes for you, Theo."

"Yes, m'dear."

"I do not know," Lady Dorring informed them ominously, "if your conclusions regarding Lord Ravenwood's motives are accurate or not, but I do know that on one point, he and I are agreed. You, Sophy, should be extremely grateful to the Earl."

"I did once have occasion to be grateful to his lordship," Sophy said wistfully. "That was the time he very gallantly stood up with me at one of the balls I attended during my season. I remember the event well. It was the only time I danced all evening. I doubt he even remembers. He kept looking over my shoulder the whole time to see who was dancing with his precious Elizabeth."

"Don't fret yourself about the first Lady Ravenwood. She's gone and no loss," Lord Dorring said with his usual straightforward attitude in such matters. "Take my advice, young lady. Refrain from provoking Ravenwood and you'll get on quite well with him. Don't expect more from him than is reasonable and he'll be a good husband to you. The man looks after his land and he'll look after his wife. He takes care of his own."

Her grandfather was undoubtedly right, Sophy decided later that night as she lay awake in bed. She was reasonably certain that if she refrained from provoking him excessively, Ravenwood would probably be no worse than most husbands. In any event, she was not likely to see much of him. During the course of her single season in town she had learned that husbands and wives of the ton tended to live separate lives.

That would be to her advantage she told herself stoutly. She had interests of her own to pursue. As Ravenwood's wife she would have time and opportunity to make her investigations on behalf of poor Amelia. One day, Sophy vowed, she would succeed in tracking down the man who had seduced and abandoned her sister.

During the past three years Sophy had managed to follow Old Bess's advice for the most part and put her sister's death behind her. Her initial rage had slowly settled into a bleak acceptance. After all, trapped in the country, there was little hope of finding and confronting the unknown man responsible.

But things would be different if she married the Earl.

Restlessly Sophy pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed. She padded barefoot across the threadbare carpet and opened the small jewelry case that sat on the dressing table. It was easy to reach inside and find the black metal ring without the aid of a candle. She had handled it often enough to recognize it by touch. Her fingers closed around it.

The ring lay cold and hard in her hand as she drew it out of the case. Against her palm she could feel the impression of the strange triangular design embossed on its surface.

Sophy hated the ring. She had found it clutched in her sister's hand the night Amelia had taken the overdose of laudanum. Sophy had known then that the black ring belonged to the man who had seduced her beautiful fair-haired sister and gotten her with child—the lover Amelia had refused to name. One of the few things Sophy had deduced for certain was that the man had been one of Lady Ravenwood's lovers.

The other thing of which Sophy was almost certain was that her sister and the unknown man had used the ruins of an old Norman castle on Ravenwood land for their secret rendezvous. Sophy had been fond of sketching the ancient pile of stone until she had found one of Amelia's handkerchiefs there. She had discovered it a few weeks after her sister's death. After that fateful day, Sophy had never returned to the scenic ruin.

What better way to find out the identity of the man who had caused Amelia to kill herself than to become the new Lady Ravenwood?

Sophy's hand clenched around the ring for a moment and then she dropped it back into the jewelry chest. It was just as well she had a rational, sensible, realistic reason for marrying the Earl of Ravenwood because her other reason for marrying him was likely to prove a wild, fruitless quest.

For she intended to try to teach the devil to love again.

Julian sprawled with negligent grace in the well-sprung traveling coach and regarded his new Countess with a critical eye. He had seen very little of Sophy during the past few weeks. He had told himself there had been no need to make an excessive number of trips from London to Hampshire. He had business to attend to in town. Now he took the opportunity to scrutinize more closely the woman he had chosen to provide him with an heir.

He regarded his bride, who had been a countess for only a few hours with some surprise. As usual, however, there was a certain chaotic look about her person. Several ringlets of tawny brown hair had escaped the confines of her new straw bonnet. A feather on the bonnet was sticking out at an odd angle. Julian looked closer and saw that the shaft had been broken. His gaze slipped downward and he discovered a small piece of ribbon trim on Sophy's reticule was loose.

The hem of her traveling dress had a grass stain on it. He thought Sophy had undoubtedly accomplished that feat when she had bent down to receive the fistful of flowers from a rather grubby little farm lad. Everyone in the village had turned out to wave farewell to Sophy as she had prepared to step into the traveling coach. Julian had not realized his wife was such a popular figure in the local neighborhood.

He was vastly relieved his new bride had made no complaint when he had informed her that he intended a working honeymoon. He had recently acquired a new estate in Norfolk and the obligatory month-long wedding trip was the perfect opportunity to examine his newest holdings.

He was also obliged to admit Lady Dorring had done a creditable job orchestrating the wedding. Most of the gentry in the surrounding countryside had been invited. Julian had not bothered to invite any of his acquaintances from London, however. The thought of going through a second wedding ceremony in front of the same sea of faces that had been present as the first debacle was more than he could stomach.

When the announcement of his forthcoming marriage had appeared in the Morning Post he had been plagued with questions, but he had handled most of the impertinent inquiries the way he usually handled such annoyances: he had ignored them.

With one or two exceptions, his policy had worked. His mouth tightened now as he recalled one of the exceptions.

A certain lady in Trevor Square had not been particularly pleased to learn of Julian's marriage. But Marianne Harwood had been too shrewd and too pragmatic to make more than a small scene. There were other fish in the sea. The earrings Julian had left behind on the occasion of that last visit had gone a long way toward soothing the ruffled features of La Belle Harwood.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" Sophy calmly broke into Julian's reverie.

Julian jerked his thoughts back to the present. "Not in the least. I was merely recalling a small business matter I had to attend to last week."

"It must have been a very unpleasant business matter. You appeared quite provoked. I thought for a moment you might have eaten a bad bit of meat pie."

Julian smiled faintly. "The incident was the sort that tends to interfere with a man's digestion but I assure you I am in excellent condition now."

"I see." Sophy stared at him with her astonishingly level gaze for a moment longer, nodded to herself and turned back to the window.

Julian scowled. "Now it's my turn to ask you if something is wrong, Sophy."

"Not in the least."

Arms folded across his chest, Julian contemplated the tassels on his polished Hessians for a few seconds before he glanced up with a quizzical gleam in his eye. "I think it would be best if we came to an understanding about one or two small matters, Madam Wife."

She glanced at him. "Yes, my lord?"

"A few weeks ago you gave me your list of demands."

She frowned. "True, my lord."

"At the time I was busy and neglected to make up a list of my own."

"I already know your demands, my lord. You want an heir and no trouble."

"I would like to take this opportunity to be a bit more precise."

"You wish to add to your list? That's hardly fair, is it?"

"I did not say I was adding to the list, merely clarifying it." Julian paused. He saw the wariness in her turquoise eyes and smiled slightly. "Don't look so worried, my dear. The first item on my list, an heir, is plain enough. It's the second item I wish to clarify."

"No trouble. It seems simple enough."

"It will be once you understand exactly what I mean by it."

"For example?"

"For example, it will save us both a great deal of trouble if you make it a policy never to lie to me."

Her eyes widened. "I have no intention of doing any such thing, my lord."

"Excellent. Because you should know you would not be able to get away with it. There is something about your eyes, Sophy, that would betray you every time. And I would be most annoyed if I should detect a lie in your eyes. You understand me perfectly?"

"Perfectly, my lord."

"Then let us return to my earlier question. I believe I asked you if anything was wrong and you stated that there was nothing wrong. Your eyes say otherwise, my dear."

She toyed with the loose ribbon on her reticule. "Am I to have no privacy for my thoughts, my lord?"

He scowled. "Were your thoughts so very private at that moment that you felt obliged to conceal them from your husband?"

"No," she said simply. "I merely assumed you would not be pleased if I spoke them aloud so I kept them to myself."

He had set out to make a point but now Julian found himself swamped with curiosity. "I would like to hear them, if you please."

"Very well, I was engaging in a bit of deductive logic, my lord. You had just admitted that the business matters you had attended to prior to our marriage had been most provoking and I was hazarding a guess as to what sort of business matter you meant."

"And to what conclusion did your deductive logic lead you?"

"To the conclusion you had undoubtedly had some difficulty when you had informed your current mistress that you were getting married. One had hardly blame the poor woman. She has, after all, been doing all the work of a wife and now you announce you intend to give the title to another applicant for the post. A rather unskilled applicant, at that. I expect she enacted you a grand tragedy and that was what provoked you. Tell me, is she an actress or a ballet dancer?"

Julian's first impulse was an absurd desire to laugh. He quelled it instantly in the interests of husbandly discipline. "You overstep yourself, madam," he said through his teeth.

"You are the one who demanded I tell you all my private thoughts." The loose feather in her bonnet bobbed. "Will you agree now that there are times when I should be allowed some privacy?"

"You should not be speculating about such things in the first place."

"I am quite certain you are right but unfortunately I have very little control over my inner speculations."

"Perhaps you can be taught some measure of control," Julian suggested.

"I doubt it." She smiled at him suddenly and the warmth of that smile made Julian blink. "Tell me," Sophy continued impishly, "was my guess accurate?"

"The business I attended to before leaving London last week is none of your affair."

"Ah, I see the way of it now. I am to have no privacy for my speculations but you are to have all the solitude you wish for your own. That hardly seems fair, my lord. In any event, if my errant thoughts are going to upset you so much, don't you think it would be better if I kept them to myself?"

Julian leaned forward without any warning and caught her chin in his fingers. It occurred to him that her skin was very soft. "Are you teasing me, Sophy?"

She made no move to pull free of his hand. "I confess I am, my lord. You are so magnificently arrogant, you see, that the temptation is sometimes irresistible."

"I understand irresistible temptation," he told her. "I am about to be overcome by it, myself."

Julian eased over onto the seat beside her and wrapped his hands around her small waist. He lifted her onto his thighs with one smooth motion and watched with cool satisfaction as her eyes widened in alarm.

"Ravenwood," she gasped.

"That brings me to another matter on my list of clarified demands," he murmured. "I think that when I am about to kiss you, I would like you to use my given name. You may call me Julian." He was suddenly very conscious of her firm, rounded little bottom pressing against him. The folds of her skirt clung to his breeches.

She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. "Need I remind you so soon that you gave me your word of honor you would not… would not force yourself on me?"

She was trembling. He could feel the small shivers going through her and it annoyed him. "Don't be an idiot, Sophy. I have no intention of forcing myself on you, as you call it. I am merely going to kiss you. There was nothing in our bargain about kissing."

"My lord, you promised—"

He wrapped one hand around her nape and held her carefully still while he covered her mouth with his own. Her lips parted on more words of protest just as he made contact. The result was that the kiss began on a far more intimate level than Julian had planned. He could taste the damp warmth of her instantly and it sent an unexpected flare of desire through him. The inside of her mouth was soft and wet and faintly spicy.

Sophy flinched and then moaned softly as his hands tightened on her. She started to pull away but when he refused to allow the small retreat she went quiet in his arms.

Sensing her cautious acquiescence, Julian took his time and gently deepened the kiss. Lord, she felt good. He had not realized she would be so sweet, so warm. There was enough feminine strength in her to make him vividly aware of his own superior strength and that realization had a startlingly arousing effect on him. He felt himself growing hard almost at once.

"Now say my name," he ordered softly against her mouth.

"Julian." The single word was shaky but audible.

He stroked his palm down her arm and nuzzled her throat. "Again."

"J—Julian. Please stop. This has gone far enough. You gave me your word."

"Am I forcing myself on you?" he asked whimsically, dropping the lightest of kisses just below her ear. His hand slid down her arm to rest intimately on the curve of her knee. Julian suddenly wanted nothing more than to ease her thighs apart and explore Sophy far more thoroughly. If the heat and honey between her legs were anything like that promised by her mouth, he would be well satisfied with his choice of wife. "Tell me, Sophy, do you call this force?"

"I don't know."

Julian laughed softly. She sounded so wretchedly unsure. "Allow me to tell you that this is not what is meant by the expression forcing myself on you."

"What is it, then?"

"I am making love to you. It's perfectly permissible between husband and wife, you know."

"You are not making love to me," she countered very seriously.

Startled, Julian raised his head to meet her eyes. "I'm not?"

"Of course not. How could you be making love to me? You do not love me."

"Call it seduction, then," he retorted. "A man has a right to seduce his own wife, surely. I gave you my word not to force myself on you but I never promised not to attempt to seduce you." There would be no need to honor the stupid agreement, he thought with satisfaction. She showed every sign of responding to him already.

Sophy leaned away from him, a deep anger lighting her turquoise eyes. "As far as I am concerned, seduction is but another form of forcing yourself on a woman. It is a man's way of concealing the truth of his motives."

Julian was stunned at the vehemence in her voice. "You have had experience of it, then?" he countered coldly.

"The results of a seduction are the same for a woman as the use of force, are they not?"

She scrambled awkwardly off his thighs, the wool skirts of her traveling dress twisting awkwardly around her in the process. The broken feather in her bonnet drooped further until it hung over one wary eye. She reached up and snatched it out of the way, leaving a broken feather shaft behind.

Julian shot out his hand and snagged her wrist. "Answer me, Sophy. Have you had experience of seduction?"

"It is a little late to ask me now, is it not? You ought to have made your inquiries into the matter before you offered for me."

And he knew quite suddenly that she had never lain in a man's arms. He could see the answer he wanted in her eyes. But he felt compelled to make her admit the truth. She had to learn that he would tolerate no evasions, half-truths, or any of the myriad other shapes a woman's lies could take.

"You will answer me, Sophy."

"If I do, will you answer all my questions about your past amours?"

"Of course not."

"Oh, you are so grossly unfair, my lord."

"I am your husband."

"And that gives you a right to be unfair?"

"It gives me a right and a duty to do what is best for you. Discussing my past liaisons with you would serve no good purpose and we both know it."

"I am not so certain. I think it would provide me with greater insight into your character."

He gave a crack of laughter at that. "I think you have enough insight as it is. Too much at times. Now tell me about your experience with the fine art of seduction, Sophy. Did some country squire attempt to tumble you in the woods?"

"If he had, what would you do about it?"

"See that he paid for it," Julian said simply.

Her mouth fell open. "You would conduct a duel because of a past indiscretion?"

"We stray from the topic, Sophy." His fingers closed more firmly around her wrist. He could feel the small, delicate bones there and took care not to tighten his hold too far.

Her eyes fell away from his. "You need not worry about avenging my lost honor, my lord. I assure you I have led an extremely quiet and unexciting existence. A somewhat boring existence, to be precise."

"I rather thought so." He released her hand and relaxed back against the cushion. "Now tell me why you equate seduction with force?"

"This is hardly a proper conversation for us to be conducting," she said in muffled tones.

"I have the impression you and I will have many such improper conversations. There are times, my dear, when you are a most improper young woman." He reached up and plucked the broken feather shaft from her bonnet.

She glanced at the shaft with an expression of resignation. "You should have considered my improper tendencies before you insisted on offering for me."

Julian turned the feather shaft between thumb and forefinger. "I did. I decided they were all quite manageable. Stop trying to distract me, Sophy. Tell me why you fear seduction as much as force."

"It is a private matter, my lord. I do not speak of it."

"You will speak of it to me. I am afraid I must insist, Sophy. I am your husband."

"Do stop using that fact as an excuse for indulging your curiosity," she snapped.

He slanted her a considering glance and considered the defiant tilt of her chin. "You insult me, madam."

She shifted uneasily, attempting to straighten her skirts. "You are easily insulted, my lord."

"Ah, yes, my excessive arrogance. I fear we must both learn to live with it, Sophy. Just as we must learn to live with my excessive curiosity." Julian studied the broken feather shaft and waited.

Silence descended on the swaying coach. The sound of creaking wheels and harness leather and the steady beat of the horses' hooves suddenly became very loud.

"It was not a matter that affected me, personally," Sophy finally said in a very small voice.

"Yes?" Again Julian waited.

"It was my sister who was the victim of the seduction." Sophy stared very hard at the passing scenery. "But she had no one to avenge her."

"I understood that your sister died three years ago."

"She did."

Something about Sophy's clipped voice alerted Julian. "Are you implying that her death was the result of a seduction?"

"She found herself with child, my lord. The man who was responsible cast her aside. She could not bear the shame or the betrayal. She took a large dose of laudanum." Her fingers clenched together in her lap.

Julian sighed. "I am sorry, Sophy."

"There was no need for her to take such a course of action," Sophy whispered tightly. "Bess could have helped her."

"Old Bess? How?" Julian frowned.

"There are ways that such situations may be remedied," Sophy said. "Old Bess knows them. If only my sister had confided in me, I could have taken her to Bess. No one need ever have known."

Julian dropped the feather shaft and leaned over to capture his wife's wrist once more. This time he deliberately exerted pressure on the small bones. "What do you know of such matters?" he demanded very softly. Elizabeth had known such things.

Sophy blinked quickly, apparently confused by his sudden, controlled rage. "Old Bess knows much about medicinal herbs. She has taught me many things."

"She has taught you ways to rid yourself of an unwanted babe?" he demanded softly.

Sophy seemed to realize at last that she had said far too much. "She… she has mentioned certain herbs that a woman can use if she believes she has conceived," she admitted hesitantly. "But the herbs can be very dangerous to the mother and must be used with great skill and caution." Sophy looked down at her hands for a moment. "I am not skilled in that particular art."

"Bloody hell. You had best not be skilled in such things, Sophy. And I swear, if that old witch, Bess, is dealing in abortion, I will have her removed from my land immediately."

"Really, my lord? Are your friends in London so very pure? Have none of your amours never been obliged to resort to certain remedies because of you?"

"No, they have not," Julian rasped, thoroughly goaded now. "For your information, madam, there are techniques that may be used to prevent the problem from occurring in the first place, just as there are ways to prevent contracting certain diseases associated with… never mind."

"Techniques, my lord? What techniques?" Sophy's eyes lit up with obvious fascination.

"Good God, I don't believe we are discussing such matters."

"You opened the discussion, my lord. I collect you do not intend to tell me about these techniques for preventing the, er, problem."

"No, I most certainly do not."

"Ah, I see. This is yet another privileged bit of information available only to men?"

"You have no need of such information, Sophy," he said grimly. "You are not in the one business that would require that you learn such things."

"But there are women who do know such things?" she pressed.

"That is quite enough, Sophy."

"And you know such women? Would you introduce me to one of them? I should dearly love to chat with her. Perhaps she would know other such amazing things. My intellectual interests are quite far-ranging, you know. One can get only so much out of books."

He thought for an instant she was teasing him again and Julian came close to losing his temper completely. But at the last moment he realized Sophy's fascination was oddly innocent and totally genuine. He groaned and leaned back into the corner of the seat. "We will not discuss this further."

"You sound distressingly like my grandmother. Really, it is very disappointing, Julian. I had hoped that when I married I would find myself living with someone who would be a more amusing conversationalist."

"I shall endeavor to amuse you in other ways," he muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head against the cushion.

"If you are talking about seduction again, Julian, I must tell you, I do not find the topic amusing."

"Because of what happened to your sister? I can see where such a situation would have left its mark on you, Sophy. But you must learn that there is a vast difference between that which goes on between husband and wife and the sort of unpleasant seduction your sister endured."

"Really, my lord? How does a man learn to make such fine distinctions? At school? Did you learn them during your first marriage or from your experience of keeping mistresses?"

At that juncture, Julian's temper frayed to a gossamer thread. He did not move or open his eyes. He did not dare. "I have explained to you that my first marriage is not a topic for discussion. Nor is the other subject you just raised. If you are wise, you will keep that in mind, Sophy."

Something in his too-quiet words apparently made an impression on her. She said nothing more.

Julian took up the reins of his temper once again and when he knew he had himself in check he opened his eyes and regarded his new bride. "Sooner or later you must accustom yourself to me, Sophy."

"You promised me three months, my lord."

"Damn it, woman, I will not force myself upon you for the next three months. But do not expect me to make no attempt whatsoever to change your mind about lovemaking in the meantime. That is asking entirely too much and is completely outside the terms of our ridiculous agreement."

Her head snapped around. "Is this what you meant when you warned me that a man's sense of honor is unreliable when it comes to his dealings with women? Am

I to assume, my lord, that I may not rely upon your word as a gentleman?"

The insult went to the bone. "There is not a single man of my acquaintance who would risk saying such a thing to me, madam."

"Are you going to call me out?" she asked with deep interest. "I should tell you my grandfather taught me how to use his pistols. I am accounted a fair shot."

Julian wondered whether a gentleman's honor prevented him from beating his wife on her wedding day. Somehow this marriage was not getting off to the smooth, orderly start he had intended.

He looked at the bright, inquiring face opposite him and tried to think of a response to Sophy's outrageous comment. At that moment the bit of ribbon that had been dangling from her reticule fell to the floor of the carriage.

Sophy frowned and leaned forward quickly to pick it up. Julian moved simultaneously and his big hand brushed against her small one.

"Allow me," he said coolly, picking up the stray bit of ribbon and dropping it into her palm.

"Thank you," she said, slightly embarrassed. She began struggling furiously to work the ribbon back into the design on her reticule.

Julian sat back, watching in fascination as another piece of ribbon came loose. Before his eyes, the entire intricately worked pattern of ribbon trim began to unravel. In less than five minutes Sophy was sitting with a totally demolished reticule. She looked up with a bewildered gaze.

"I have never understood why this sort of thing is always happening to me," she said.

Without a word Julian took the reticule off her lap, opened it and dropped all the stray bits of ribbon inside.

As he handed the purse back to her he experienced the disquieting sensation that he had just opened Pandora's box.