"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