make for a tidy ending to the matter.
Then again, Sophy thought morosely, it was highly unlikely things would proceed
that neatly. Her life of late was not inclined to be neat.
Fear sent chills down her spine. How did men survive this dreadful anticipation
of danger and death? she wondered, continuing to pace. They faced it not only on
the eve of a duel of honor but on the battlefield and at sea. Sophy shuddered.
She wondered if Julian had ever experienced this awful waiting and then
remembered the story she had heard about a duel he had once conducted over the
issue of Elizabeth's honor. And there must have been moments like this also when
he was forced to endure the long hours before battle. But perhaps, being a man,
he had nerves that were not susceptible to this sort of anticipatory fear. Or
maybe he had learned how to control it.
For the first time it occurred to Sophy that the masculine code of honor was a
very hard, reckless, and demanding thing. But at least abiding by it guaranteed
men the respect of their peers and if nothing else, when this was all over,
Julian would be forced to respect his wife to at least some degree.
Or would he? Would a man respect a woman who had tried to abide by his own male
code or would he find the whole idea laughable?
On that thought, Sophy turned away from the window. Her eyes went straight to
the small jewelry case on her dressing table and she remembered the black ring.
A tremor of regret went through her. If she were to get herself killed tomorrow
there would be no one left to avenge Amelia. Which was more important, she asked
herself, avenging Amelia or keeping Julians love letters out of print?
There was really no choice. For a long time now, Sophy had realized that her
feelings for Julian were far stronger than her old desire to find her sister's
seducer.
Was her love for Julian making her act dishonorably in regard to her sister's
memory?
It was all so terribly complicated suddenly. For a moment the enormity of the
crisis was overwhelming. Sophy longed to run and hide until her world had
righted itself. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she did not hear the
connecting door open behind her.
"Sophy?"
"Julian." She whirled around. "I was not expecting you, my lord."
"You rarely are." He sauntered slowly into the room, his eyes watchful. "Is
something wrong, my dear? You seemed upset at dinner."
"I… I was not feeling well."
"A headache?" he inquired dryly.
"No. My head is fine, thank you." She spoke automatically and then she realized
she had spoken too quickly. She should have seized on the proffered excuse. She
frowned, unable to think of a suitable substitution. Perhaps her stomach…
Julian smiled. "Don't bother trying to invent a useful illness on such short
notice. We both know you are not very good at such things." He walked over to
stand directly in front of her. "Why don't you tell me the truth? You are angry
with me, aren't you?"
Sophy lifted her eyes to his, a kaleidoscope of emotions pounding through her as
she considered exactly how she felt toward him tonight. Anger, love, resentment,
passion, and, above all, a terrible fear that she might never see him again,
might never again lie in his arms and experience that fragile intimacy she had
first felt the other night.
"Yes, Julian. I am angry with you."
He nodded as if in complete understanding. "It is because of that little scene
at the opera, isn't it? You did not like me forbidding you to read the Memoirs."
Sophy shrugged and fiddled with the lid of her jewelry case. "We did have an
agreement concerning my reading tastes, my lord."
Julian's eyes went to the small box under her hand and then swung to her averted
face. "I seem fated to disappoint you as a husband both in bed and out."
Her head came up suddenly, her eyes widening. "Oh, no, my lord, I never meant to
imply that you were a disappointment in… in bed. That is to say, what happened
the other evening was quite," she cleared her throat, "quite bearable, even
pleasant at certain points. I would not have you think otherwise."
Julian caught her chin on the edge of his hand and held her gaze. "I would have
you find me more than merely bearable in bed, Sophy."
And suddenly she realized he wanted to make love to her again. That was the real
purpose of his visit to her room tonight. Her heart leapt. She would have one
more chance to hold him close and feel that joyous intimacy.
"Oh, Julian." Sophy gulped back a sob and threw herself into his arms. "I would
like nothing more than to have you stay with me for a while tonight."
His arms went around her immediately but there was a note of stunned surprise as
well as laughter in Julian's voice when he spoke softly into her hair. "If this
is the sort of welcome I get when you are angry at me I can see I shall have to
work at the task of annoying you more often."
"Do not tease me tonight, Julian. Just hold me close the way you did the last
time," she mumbled against his chest.
"Your wish is my command tonight, little one." He gently eased the dressing gown
from her shoulders, pausing to kiss the hollow of her throat. "This time I will
endeavor not to disappoint you."
Sophy closed her eyes as he slowly undressed her. She was determined to savor
every moment of what could easily be their last night together. She did not even
mind if the actual lovemaking was not particularly pleasant. What she sought was
the unique sense of closeness that accompanied it. That closeness might be all
she would ever have of Julian.
"Sophy, you are so lovely to look at and so soft to touch," Julian whispered as
the last of her clothing fell into a heap at her feet. His eyes moved hungrily
over her nude body and his hands followed.
Sophy shivered and swayed against him as his palms cupped her breasts. His
thumbs began to glide over her nipples, gently coaxing a response. When the
tender, rosy peaks began to grow taut, Julian exhaled in deep satisfaction.
His hands slid down her sides to the curve of her hips and then around behind
her to cradle the firm globes of her buttocks.
Sophy's fingers tightened on his shoulders as she leaned into his strength.
"Touch me, sweetheart," Julian ordered in a husky voice. "Put your hands inside
my robe and touch me."
She could not resist. Slipping her palms under the silk lapels of his dressing
gown she splayed her fingers across his chest. "You are so strong," she
whispered in wonder.
"You make me feel strong," Julian said, amused. "You also have the power to make
me very weak."
He caught her around the waist and lifted her up so that she was looking down at
him. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders and thought she would
drown in the emerald brilliance of his eyes.
His dressing gown fell open and he slowly lowered her down along the length of
his body until she was once more standing on her own feet. The intimate contact
sent ripples of excitement through her and left her clinging to him. She closed
her eyes again as his arms swept her up into his arms.
He carried her over to the bed and settled her in the center. Then he came down
beside her, his legs tangling with hers. He stroked her slowly, his hands
closing around each curve, his fingers exploring every hollow.
And he talked to her—urgent, persuasive, sensual words that enveloped her in a
haze of heat and desire. Sophy clung to each soft promise, each tender command,
each exciting description of what Julian intended to do to her that night.
"You will tremble in my arms, sweetheart. I will make you want me so much that
you will plead with me to take you. You will tell me of your pleasure and that
will make my pleasure complete. I want to make you happy tonight, Sophy."
He leaned over her, his mouth heavy and demanding on hers. Sophy reacted
fiercely, eager to claim as much of his heat and passion as she could tonight.
There might never be another chance, she reminded herself. She might be lying
cold and dead on the grass of Leighton Field by sunrise. Her tongue met his,
inviting him into her moist heat. Julian meant life tonight and she clung
instinctively to life and to him.
When his hand slipped between her thighs she cried out softly and lifted herself
against his fingers.
Julian's fierce pleasure in her response was obvious but he seemed intent on
holding himself in check this time.
"Gently, little one. Give yourself to me. Put yourself in my keeping. Open your
legs a little wider, darling. There, that's the way I want you to be for me.
Sweet and moist and eager. Trust me, darling. I will make it good this time."
The words continued to flow around her, sweeping her away on a tide of
excitement and need that knew no boundaries. Julian coaxed her onward, leading
her toward a great unknown that loomed larger and larger on Sophy's sensual
horizon.
When he touched the tip of his tongue to her flowering nipples Sophy thought she
would come apart in a hundred pieces. But when he moved lower and she felt first
his fingers and then his mouth on the small, exquisitely sensitive nubbin of
flesh between her legs she thought she would fly into a million shimmering
pieces.
She clutched at his head. "Julian, no, wait, please. You should not—"
Her fingers dug into his dark hair and she cried out again. Julian cradled her
hips in his big hands and ignored her struggles to dislodge him.
"Julian, no, I don't want… Oh, yes, please, yes."
A shivering, shuddering, convulsive sense of release swept through her. In that
moment she forgot everything— the impending duel, her private fears, the
strangeness of such lovemaking—everything except the man who was touching her so
intimately.
"Yes, sweetheart," Julian said with dark satisfaction as he moved quickly up her
body. His hands speared into her hair as he bent his head to plunge his tongue
between her parted lips.
She was still quivering with the aftershocks of her release when he drove
himself deeply into her hot, wet tightness and surrendered to his own climax.
Incredibly, her body convulsed gently around him once more and, caught up in the
throes of the unfamiliar rapture, Sophy uttered the words that were in her
heart.
"I love you, Julian. I love you."
TEN
Julian sprawled heavily across the soft, slender body of his wife, conscious of
being more relaxed than he could remember feeling in years. He knew he would
have to move soon, if only to put out the candles. But for the moment all he
wanted to do was lie there and savor the splendid satisfaction that enveloped
him.
The scent of the recent lovemaking still hovered in the air filling him with a
primitive satisfaction as did the echo of Sophy's words, / love you, Julian.
She had not been fully aware of what she was saying, he reminded himself. She
was a woman discovering her own sensual potential for the first time and she had
been grateful to the man who had taught her to enjoy the pleasures of sexual
release. He would not read too much into words of love spoken under such
circumstances, but they had sounded good, nevertheless, and a part of him had
gloried in them.
He had sensed the first time he had kissed her that Sophy would learn to respond
to him but he had never dreamed that her response would affect him so intensely.
He felt all-powerful, a conquering hero who had just claimed the fruits of
victory and was content. But he was equally aware of a violent need to protect
his sweet treasure. Sophy had finally given herself to him completely and he
would take care of her.
Just as that thought flashed through his head, Sophy stirred beneath him, her
lashes lifting languidly. Julian braced his weight on his elbows and looked down
into her dazed and wondering gaze.
"Julian?"
He brushed his mouth across hers, reassuring her wordlessly. "That is the way it
is supposed to be between a husband and his wife. And that is the way it will be
between us from now on. Did you enjoy yourself, little one?"
She smiled ruefully and linked her arms around his neck. "You know very well
that I did."
"I know, but I find I like to hear you say it."
"You gave me great pleasure," she whispered. The amusement faded from her eyes.
"It was unlike anything I have ever known."
He kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "Then we are
even, you and I. You gave me the same degree of pleasure."
"Is that really true?" She searched his face intently.
"It's true." Nothing had ever been more true or certain in his life he thought.
"I am glad. Try to remember that in the future, no matter what happens, will
you, Julian?"
The unexpected anxiety in her words sent a faint shaft of alarm through him.
Mentally he brushed aside the uneasiness her words triggered and smiled instead.
"I am hardly likely to forget it."
"I wish I could believe that." She smiled too, rather wistfully.
Julian frowned slightly, uncertain of her new mood. There was something