"Julian, please—"
"Hush, my sweet." His thumb moved along the edge of her soft mouth, tracing the
contours. "I gave you my word I would not force you and I will keep my oath even
if it kills me. But I have a right to try to change your mind and that, by God,
is exactly what I intend to do. I've given you ten days to get used to the idea
of being married to me. That is nine days longer than any other man would have
allowed in this situation.'
His mouth came down on hers with sudden, fierce demand. Sophy had been right.
This was not another of the gentle assaults on her senses that she had grown to
expect in the evenings. This kiss was hot and deliberately overpowering. She
could feel Julian's tongue sliding boldly into her mouth. For a moment a heavy,
drugging warmth surged through Sophy. Then she tasted the port on his breath and
instinctively she started to struggle.
"Be still," Julian muttered, soothing her with a long, stroking movement of his
big palm down her spine. "Just be still and let me kiss you. That's all I want
at the moment. I intend to remove a few of your ridiculous fears."
"I am not afraid of you," she protested quickly, keenly aware of the strength in
his hands. "I simply do not care to have the privacy of my bedchamber invaded
yet by a man who is still very much a stranger to me."
"We are no longer strangers, Sophy. We are husband and wife and it's time we
became lovers."
His mouth closed over hers again and her protests were cut off. Julian kissed
her deeply, thoroughly, imprinting himself on her until Sophy was trembling with
reaction. As always when he held her in his arms like this she felt breathless
and strangely weak. When his hands moved lower, gripping her and forcing her up
against his body, she felt the hardness in him and it made her flinch.
"Julian?" She looked up at him, wide-eyed.
"What did you expect?" He smiled wickedly. "A man is no different than any other
farm animal. You claim to be an expert on the subject."
"My lord, this is hardly a matter of putting a ewe and a ram together in the
same pen."
"I am glad you appreciate the difference."
He refused to let her ease away from him. Instead, he cupped her buttocks in his
two large hands and urged her even closer to the bulging hardness of his thighs.
Sophy's head whirled as she felt the unmistakable shape of his swollen manhood
pushing against her softness. Her skirts swirled around his leg, caught, and
clung to his calves. He widened his stance and she found herself trapped between
his legs.
"Sophy, little one, Sophy, my sweet, let me make love to you. It's only right."
The urgent plea was punctuated with small, persuasive kisses that traced the
line of her jaw and traveled down her throat to her bare shoulder.
Sophy could not respond. She felt as if she were being swept out to sea on a
mighty, surging tide. She had loved Julian from afar for too long. The
temptation to surrender to the sensuous warmth that he engendered in her was
almost overwhelming. Unconsciously her arms went around his neck and she parted
her lips invitingly. He had taught her much about kissing during the past few
days.
Julian needed no second invitation. He took her lips again with a low groan of
satisfaction. This time his hand moved under her breast and he cupped her
gently, his thumb searching out the nipple beneath the muslin bodice.
Sophy did not hear the drawing room door open behind her but she did hear the
apologetic gasp of dismay and the sound of the door closing again very quickly.
Julian lifted his head to glare over the top of her curls and the spell was
broken.
Sophy blushed as she realized one of the servants had witnessed the passionate
kiss. She stepped back hurriedly and Julian let her go, smiling slightly at her
disheveled appearance. She put her hand to her hair and found it in far worse
than its usual disarray. Several curls were tumbling down around her ears and
the ribbon her maid had tied so carefully before dinner had come loose. It
dangled down the nape of her neck.
"I… Excuse me, my lord. I must go upstairs. Everything has come undone." She
whirled and flew to the door.
"Sophy." There was a clink of glass on glass.
"Yes, my lord?" She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and glanced back warily.
Julian was standing by the fire, his arm resting casually along the white marble
mantle. He had a fresh glass of port in his hand. Sophy was more alarmed than
ever when she saw the masculine satisfaction in his eyes. His mouth was curved
tenderly but the smile did little to alleviate the familiar arrogance radiating
from him. He was very sure of himself now, very confident.
"Seduction is not such a fearful thing, after all, is it, my sweet? You are
going to enjoy yourself and I think you have had sufficient time to realize
that."
Was this what it had been like for poor Amelia? A complete devastation of the
senses?
Unaware of what she was doing, Sophy touched her lower lip with the tip of her
finger. "Kisses such as the ones you just gave me are your idea of seduction, my
lord?"
He inclined his head, his eyes flaring with amusement. "I hope you enjoy them,
Sophy, because there will be many more such kisses to come. Beginning tonight.
Go on upstairs to bed, my dear. I will join you shortly. I am going to seduce
you into granting me a proper wedding night. Believe me, my love, you will thank
me tomorrow morning for putting an end to this entirely unnatural situation you
have created. And I will take great pleasure in accepting your gratitude."
Fury surged through Sophy, mingling with the other heady emotions that were
already coursing through her. She was suddenly so violently angry she could not
even speak. Instead, she jerked open the heavy mahogany doors and dashed across
the hall to the stairs.
She stormed into her bedchamber a few minutes later and startled her maid who
was busy turning down the bed.
"My lady! Is somethin' wrong?"
Sophy took a grip on her anger and her reeling senses. She was breathing much
too quickly. "No, no, Mary. Nothing is wrong. I took the stairs too quickly,
that's all. Please help me with my dress."
"Certainly, ma'am." Mary, a bright-eyed young girl in her late teens who was
thrilled with her recent promotion to the status of lady's maid, came forward to
assist her mistress in undressing. She handled the embroidered muslin gown with
reverent care.
"I think I would like a pot of tea before bedtime, Mary. Would you please have
one sent up?"
"At once, my lady."
"Oh, and Mary, have two cups put on the tray." Sophy took a deep breath. "The
Earl will be joining me.'
Mary's eyes widened with approval but she wisely held her tongue as she helped
Sophy into a chintz dressing gown. "I'll have the tea up here straight away,
ma'am. Oh, that reminds me. One of the housemaids is complainin' of her stomach.
She thinks it's somethin' she ate. She was wantin' to know if I'd ask your
advice."
"What? Oh, yes, of course." Sophy turned toward her chest of dried herbs and
quickly filled a small packet with a selection that included powdered licorice
and rhubarb. "Take these to her and tell her to mix two pinches of each into a
cup of tea. That should settle her stomach. If she is not any better by morning,
be sure to let me know."
"Thank you, ma'am. Alice will be ever so grateful. She suffers a lot from a
nervous stomach, I hear. By the by, Allan the footman says to tell you his sore
throat is much better thanks to that honey and brandy syrup you had Cook prepare
for him."
"Excellent, excellent, I'm glad to hear it," Sophy said impatiently. The last
thing she wanted to discuss tonight was Allan the footman's sore throat. "Now,
Mary, please hurry with that tea, will you?"
"Yes, ma'am." Mary scurried out of the room.
Sophy began to pace the floor, her soft slippers making no sound on the dark,
patterned carpet. She barely noticed the bit of lace trim that had come loose
from the lapel of her dressing gown and was dangling over one breast.
The overbearing, unspeakably arrogant man she had married thought he had only to
touch her and she would succumb to his expertise. He would badger her and pester
her and otherwise keep after her until he had his way with her. She knew that
now. Bedding her was obviously a matter of masculine pride to him.
Sophy was beginning to realize she would get no peace until Julian had proven
himself her master in the privacy of the bedchamber. There was little chance to
work on the harmonious relationship she dreamed of while Julian was
concentrating only on seducing her.
Sophy halted her pacing abruptly, wondering if the Earl of Ravenwood would be
satisfied with a single night of conquest. Julian was not, after all, in love
with her. At the moment apparently she constituted a challenge because she was
his wife and she was refusing him the privileges he considered rightfully his.
But if he thought he'd finally proven to both of them he could seduce her,
perhaps he would leave her alone for a while.
Sophy went quickly to her beautifully carved medicine chest and stood looking
down at the rows of tiny wooden trays and drawers. She was simmering with rage
and fear and another emotion she did not want to examine too closely. There was
not much time. In a few minutes Julian would come sauntering through the door
that connected her bedchamber with his dressing room. And then he would take her
into his arms and touch her the way he touched his little ballet dancer or
actress or whatever she was.
Mary opened the door and came into the bedchamber carrying a silver tray. "Your
tea, ma'am. Will there be anythin' else?"
"No, thank you, Mary. You may go." Sophy managed what she hoped was a normal
smile of dismissal but Mary's eyes seemed brighter than ever as she bobbed a
small curtsy and let herself out of the room. Sophy was sure she heard a muffled
giggle out in the hall.
Servants seem to know everything that goes on in a large house such as this,
Sophy thought resentfully. It was quite possible her maid knew perfectly well
that Julian had never spent the night in his wife's bed. That thought was rather
mortifying in some ways.
Fleetingly, Sophy wondered if part of Julian's irritation had to do with the
fact that he knew the entire staff was speculating on why he was not visiting
his new bride in her bedroom.
Sophy hardened her heart. She was not about to turn aside from her goal merely
for the sake of Julian's male pride. He had more than enough of that commodity
as it was. She reached into the herb chest and took a pinch of chamomile and a
pinch of something far more potent. Deftly she stirred them into the pot of
brewing tea.
Then she sat down to wait. She had to sit down. She was trembling so much she
could not stand.
She did not have long to anticipate the inevitable. The connecting door opened
softly and Sophy gave a start. Her eyes went to the doorway. Julian stood there
in a black silk dressing gown that was embroidered with the Ravenwood crest. He
regarded her with a quizzical little smile.
"You are entirely too nervous, little one," he said gently as he closed the door
behind him. "This is what comes of putting matters off for far too long. You
have built the whole business into an event of terrifying proportions. By
tomorrow morning you will be able to put everything back into its proper
perspective."
"I would like to beg you one last time, Julian, not to pursue this any further.
I must tell you again that I feel you are breaking the spirit, if not the letter
of your oath."
His smile vanished and his gaze hardened. He shoved his hands into the pockets
of his gown and began to prowl slowly around her room. "We will not discuss my
honor again. I assure you, it is an important matter to me and I would not do
anything I felt would tarnish it."
"You have your own definition of honor, then?"
He gave her an angry glance. "I know far better how to define it than you do,
Sophy."
"I lack the ability to define it properly because I am merely a woman?"
He relaxed, the faint smile edging his grim mouth again. "You are not merely a
woman, my love. You are a most interesting female, believe me. I did not dream
when I asked for your hand in marriage that I would be getting such a
fascinating concoction. Did you know that there's a bit of lace dangling from
your gown?"
Sophy glanced down uneasily and was chagrined to see the lace flopping over her
breast. She made one or two fruitless efforts to push it back into place and
then gave up. When she raised her head she found herself looking at Julian
through a lock of hair that had slipped free of its pins. Irritably she pushed
it back behind her ear. She drew herself up proudly.
"Would you care for a cup of tea, my lord?"
His smile broadened indulgently and Julian's eyes became very green. "Thank you,
Sophy. After all the port I allowed myself after dinner, a cup of tea would be