room listened with rapt attention. Charlotte Featherstone's Memoirs were well
written, entertaining, and deliciously scandalizing.
"Lord Ashford gave Featherstone a necklace worth five thousand pounds?" a
horrified member of the group exclaimed at one point. "Just wait until his wife
hears about that. I know for a fact that Lady Ashford has been forced to
practice the most stringent economy for years. Ashford is forever telling her he
cannot afford new gowns and jewels."
"He's telling her the truth. He probably cannot afford them for his wife as long
as he is buying them for Charlotte Featherstone," Fanny observed.
"There's more about Ashford," Anne said with a decidedly wicked laugh. "Listen
to this:"
After Lord Ashford left that evening I told my maid that Lady Ashford should
consider herself very much in my debt. After all, if it were not for me, Ashford
would undoubtedly spend a great many more evenings at home boring his poor wife
with his lamentably unimaginative lovemaking. Only consider the great burden of
which I have relieved the lady.
"I would say she was well paid for her pains," Harriett declared, pouring tea
from the Georgian silver pot.
"Lady Ashford is going to be furious when she hears about this," someone else
remarked.
"And so she should be," Sophy said fiercely. "Her lord has conducted himself
most dishonorably. We may find it amusing but when you stop to think about it,
you must realize he has publicly humiliated his wife. Think how he would react
if the situation were reversed and it was Lady Ashford who had caused this sort
of talk."
"A sound point," Jane said. "I'll wager most men would call out any other man
who had written such things about their wives."
Julian, for one, would be strongly inclined to spill blood over such a scandal,
Sophy thought, not without some satisfaction as well as a chill of fear. His
rage under such circumstances would indeed be awesome and his fierce pride would
demand vengeance.
"Lady Ashford is hardly in a position to call out Charlotte Featherstone," one
of the women in the group said dryly. "As it is, the poor woman will simply be
forced to retreat to the country for a while until the gossip has run its
course."
Another woman on the other side of the room grinned knowingly. "So Lord Ashford
is a dead bore in bed, is he? How interesting."
"According to Featherstone, most men are rather boring in bed," Fanny said.
"Thus far she has not had a good word to say about any of her admirers."
"Perhaps the more interesting lovers have paid the blackmail she is said to be
demanding in order to be left out of the Memoirs," suggested a young matron.
"Or perhaps men, in general, simply do not make interesting lovers," Harriett
observed calmly. "More tea, anyone?"
The street in front of the Yelverton mansion was crowded with elegant carriages.
Julian alighted from his at midnight and made his way through the crowd of
lounging coachmen, grooms, and footmen to the wide steps that led to the
Yelverton hall.
He was virtually under orders to appear tonight. Fanny had made it clear that
this was to be Sophy's first major ball and that Julian's presence would be much
appreciated. While it was true he was free to go his own way for the most part,
there were certain occasions that required his presence at Sophy's side. This
was one of them.
Julian, who had been getting up at an ungodly hour and going to bed far too late
for the past week in an effort to avoid unnecessary encounters with his wife,
had found himself trapped when Fanny had made it plain she expected him to show
up at some point tonight. He had resigned himself to a dance with his wife.
It was akin to resigning himself to torture. The few minutes on the ballroom
floor with her in his arms would be more difficult for him than Sophy would ever
know.
If the time spent apart from her had not been easy, this past week with Sophy
living under the same roof had been hell. The night he had arrived home to find
that she had come to apologize and to take up residence in town, he had been
seized first with a glorious relief and then with a sense of caution.
But he had managed to convince himself she had come meekly to heel. She had
clearly abandoned her outrageous demands and was prepared to assume the role of
a proper wife to him. That night when he had confronted her in her bedchamber
she had virtually offered herself to him.
It had taken every ounce of willpower Julian possessed to walk out of the room
that night. Sophy had looked so sweet and submissive and tempting he had ached
to reach out and take what was his by right. But he had been shaken by her
arrival and had not fully trusted his own reactions. He had known he needed time
to think.
By the following morning he had also realized that now she was with him again,
he could not send her away. Nor was there any need to do so, he had told
himself. After all, she had humbled her pride by coming to town and throwing
herself on his mercy. It was she who had pleaded to be allowed to stay. Hadn't
she apologized most sincerely for the embarrassing events at Eslington Park?
Julian had decided his pride had been salvaged and the lesson had been taught.
He had made up his mind to be gracious and allow her to stay in town. The
decision had not been a difficult one although he had lain awake till dawn
arriving at it.
He had also determined during the course of that sleepless night that he would
lay claim to his conjugal rights immediately. He had certainly been denied them
long enough. But by morning he had acknowledged it was not that simple.
Something was missing in the equation.
Not being much given to introspection or self-analysis, he had taken most of the
next morning right up until the interview in the library to arrive at a vague
notion of what was wrong with leaping straight into bed with Sophy.
He had finally admitted to himself that he did not want Sophy to give herself to
him out of a sense of wifely duty.
It was, in fact, damned galling to think that she would do so. He wanted her to
want him. He wanted to be able to look into those clear, honest eyes and see
genuine desire and womanly need. Above all he did not like the notion that, no
matter how willing she was to please him now, she privately considered he had
reneged on their original bargain.
The realization had thrown him into a frustrated quandary. It had also left him
extremely short-tempered, as his friends had been obliging enough to point out.
Daregate and Thurgood had not been stupid enough to ask if there was trouble at
home but Julian was aware they both suspected that was the case. There had been
several hints that each was looking forward to meeting Sophy. Tonight was the
first opportunity they would have to do so along with the rest of Society.
Julian's mood lightened a bit as he reflected that Sophy would probably be very
glad to see him by this time of the evening. He knew she expected to be a total
failure socially, just as she had been five years ago. Having a husband by her
side this time would undoubtedly give her some courage. Perhaps some of her
gratitude would eventually lead her to see him in a more favorable light.
Julian had attended affairs at the Yelvertons before and he knew his way around
the ballroom. Rather than submit to having himself announced by the butler, he
found the staircase that led to a balcony, which overlooked the crowded salon.
He planted both hands against the heavily carved railing and surveyed the throng
below. The ballroom was ablaze with lights. A band was playing in one corner and
several couples were out on the floor. Handsomely liveried footmen laden with
trays wove their way through the crush of elegantly dressed men and women.
Laughter and conversation drifted upward.
Julian swept the room with his gaze, searching for Sophy. Fanny had advised him
that her charge would be wearing a rose-colored gown. Sophy would undoubtedly be
standing in one of the small groups of females that lined the wall near the
windows.
"No, Julian, she's not over there. She's on the other side of the room. You can
hardly see her because she's not very tall. When she's surrounded by a group of
admiring males, as she is at the moment, she practically vanishes from sight."
Julian turned his head to see his aunt coming toward him along the corridor.
Lady Fanny was smiling her familiar laughing smile and looked quite devastating
in silver-and-green satin.
"Good evening, Aunt." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "You're
looking in fine form this evening. Where's Harry?"
"Cooling off with some lemonade out on the terrace. The heat was affecting her,
poor dear. She will insist on wearing those heavy turbans. I was about to join
her when I spotted you sneaking up here. So you came to see how your little wife
was doing after all, hm?"
"I know a royal command when I hear one, madam. I'm here because you insisted.
Now what's all this about Sophy disappearing from sight?"
"See for yourself." Fanny moved to the railing and proudly waved a hand to
encompass the crowd below. "She has been surrounded since the moment we arrived.
That was an hour ago."
Julian glanced toward the far end of the ballroom, scowling as he tried to pick
out a rose silk gown from among the rainbow of beautiful gowns on the floor
below. Then a man who had been standing in a knot of other males shifted
position for an instant and Julian caught sight of Sophy in the middle of the
group.
"What the devil is she doing down there?" Julian snapped.
"Isn't it obvious? She is well on her way to becoming a success, Julian." Fanny
smiled with satisfaction. "She is perfectly charming and has no trouble at all
making conversation. So far she has prescribed a remedy for Lady Bixby's nervous
stomach, a poultice for Lord Thanton's chest, and a syrup for Lady Yelverton's
throat."
"None of the men standing around her at the moment appear to be seeking medical
advice," Julian muttered.
"Quite right. When I left her side a short while ago she was just launching into
a description of sheep-raising practices in Norfolk."
"Damn it, I taught her everything she knows about raising sheep in Norfolk. She
learned it on our honeymoon."
"Well, then, you must be very pleased to know she's putting the knowledge to
good use socially."
Julian’s eyes narrowed as he studied the males bunched around his wife. A tall,
pale-haired figure dressed in unrelieved black caught his attention. "I see
Waycott has lost no time in introducing himself."
"Oh, dear. Is he in the group?" Fanny's smile slipped as she bent forward to
follow his gaze. The mischief faded from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Julian. I had not
realized he was here tonight. But you must know she was bound to run into him
sooner or later along with a few of Elizabeth's other admirers."
"I put Sophy in your care, Fanny, because I credited you with sufficient common
sense to keep her out of trouble."
"Keeping your wife out of trouble is your job, not mine," Fanny retorted with
asperity. "I am her friend and adviser, nothing more."
Julian knew he was being reprimanded for his lack of attention to Sophy during
the past week but he was in no mood to muster a defense. He was too concerned
with the sight of the handsome blond god who was at that very moment handing a
glass of lemonade to Sophy. He had seen that particular expression on Waycott's
face five years ago when the Viscount had begun hovering around Elizabeth.
Julian's hand clenched at his side. With a great effort of will he forced
himself to relax. Last time he had been a besotted fool who had not seen trouble
coming until it was too late. This time he would move quickly and ruthlessly to
head off disaster.
"Excuse me, Fanny. I do believe you are right. It is my job to protect Sophy and
I had better get on with the task."
Fanny swung around, her brows knitting in a concerned expression. "Julian, be
careful how you go about things. Remember that Sophy is not Elizabeth."
"Precisely. And I intend to see that she does not turn into Elizabeth." Julian
was already pacing down the length of the balcony toward the small side
staircase that would take him to the ballroom floor.
Once on the lower level he immediately found himself confronted with a wall of
people, several of whom paused to greet him and congratulate him on his recent
marriage. Julian managed to nod civilly, accepting the well-meant compliments on
his Countess and ignoring the veiled curiosity that often accompanied them.
His size was in his favor. He was taller than most of the other people in the
room and it was not difficult to keep the cluster of males orbiting around Sophy
in sight. Within a few minutes he had made his way to where she was holding
court.
He spotted the drooping flower ornament in her coiffure at the same instant that
Waycott reached out to adjust it.
"If I may be allowed to pluck this rose, madam?" Waycott said with smooth