He stalked down the hall, torn between rage and an invidious pleasure at the thought of seeing Sophy again. The volatile combination of emotions was enough to make him light-headed. He opened the door of his bedchamber with an impatient twist of the knob and found his valet sprawled, sound asleep, in one of the red velvet armchairs.
"Hello, Knapton. Catching up on your sleep?"
"My lord." Knapton struggled awake, blinking quickly as he took in the sight of his grim-faced master standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, my lord. Just sat down for a few minutes to wait for you. Don't know what happened. Must have dozed off."
"Never mind." Julian waved a hand in the general direction of the door. "I can get myself to bed without your assistance tonight."
"Yes, my lord. If you're quite certain you won't be needing any help, my lord." Knapton hurried toward the door.
"Knapton."
"Yes, my lord?" The valet paused in the open doorway and glanced back warily.
"I understand Lady Ravenwood arrived this evening."
Knapton's pinched face softened into an expression of pleasure. "Not more than a few hours ago, my lord. Set the whole house in an uproar for a time but everything's in order now. Lady Ravenwood has a way of managing staff, my lord."
"Lady Ravenwood has a way of managing everyone," Julian muttered under his breath as Knapton let himself out into the hall. He waited until the outer door had closed firmly behind the valet and then he stripped off his boots and evening clothes and reached for his dressing gown.
He stood for a moment after tying the silk sash, trying to think of how best to handle his defiant bride. Outrage still warred with desire in his blood. He had an overpowering urge to vent his temper on Sophy and an equally powerful need to make love to her. Maybe he should do both, he told himself.
One thing was for certain. He could not simply ignore her arrival tonight and then greet her at breakfast tomorrow morning as if her presence here was a perfectly routine matter.
Nor would he allow himself to stand here shilly-shallying another minute like a green officer facing his first battle. This was his home and he would be master in it.
Julian took a deep breath, swore softly, and strode over to the door that connected his dressing room with Sophy's bedchamber. He snatched up a candle and raised his hand to knock. But at the last instant he changed his mind. This was not a time for courtesy.
He reached for the knob, expecting to find the door locked from the other side. To his surprise, he found no resistance. The door to Sophy's darkened bedchamber opened easily.
For a moment he could not find her amid the shadows of the elegant room. Then he spotted the small, curved outline of her body in the center of the massive bed. His lower body tightened painfully. This is my wife and she is here at last in the bedchamber where she belongs.
Sophy stirred restlessly, hovering on the brink of an elusive dream. She came awake slowly, reorienting herself to the strange room. Then she opened her eyes and stared at the flickering flame of a candle moving silently toward her through the darkness. Panic jerked her into full alertness until, with a sigh of relief, she recognized the dark figure holding the candle. She sat straight up in bed, clutching the sheet to her throat.
"Julian. You gave me a start, my lord. You move like a ghost."
"Good evening, madam." The greeting was cold and emotionless. It was uttered in that very soft, very dangerous voice that always boded ill. "I trust you will forgive me for not being at home tonight when you arrived. I wasn't expecting you, you see."
"Pray do not regard it, my lord. I am well aware that my arrival is something of a surprise to you." Sophy tried her best to ignore the shiver of fear that coursed through her. She had known she must endure this confrontation from the moment she had made the decision to leave Eslington Park. She had spent hours in the swaying coach imagining just what she would say when she faced Julian's wrath.
"A surprise? That's putting it rather mildly."
"There's no need to be sarcastic, my lord. I know that you are probably somewhat angry with me."
"How perceptive of you."
Sophy swallowed bravely. This was going to be even more difficult than she had imagined. His attitude toward her had not softened much during the past week. "Perhaps it would be better if we discussed this in the morning."
"We will discuss it now. There will not be time to do so in the morning because you will be busy packing to return to Eslington Park."
"No. You must understand, Julian. I cannot allow you to send me away." She gripped the sheet more tightly. She had promised herself she would not plead with him. She would be calm and reasonable. He was, after all, a reasonable man. Most of the time. "I am trying to put things right between us. I have made a terrible mistake in dealing with you. I was wrong. I know that now. I have come to London because I am determined to be a proper wife to you."
"A proper wife? Sophy, I know this will amaze and astound you, but the fact is, a proper wife obeys her husband. She does not attempt to deceive him into thinking he has behaved like a monster. She does not deny him his rights in the bedchamber. She does not show up on his doorstep in town when she has been specifically ordered to stay in the country."
"Yes, well, I am perfectly aware of the fact that I have not been a very exemplary model of the sort of wife you require. But in all fairness Julian, I feel your requirements were rather stringent."
"Stringent? Madam, I required nothing more of you than a certain measure of—"
"Julian, please, I do not wish to argue with you. I am trying to make amends. We got off to a bad start in this marriage, and I admit that it is mostly my fault. It seems to me the least you can do is give me an opportunity to show you that I am willing to try to be a better wife."
There was a long silence from Julian. He stood quite still, arrogantly examining her anxious face in the candlelight. His own expression was thrown into demonic relief by the flame he held in his hand. It seemed to Sophy he had never looked more like the devil than he did at that moment.
"Let me be perfectly certain I understand you, Sophy. You say you wish to put this marriage of ours on a normal footing?"
"Yes, Julian."
"Am I to assume that you are now prepared to grant me my rights in your bed?"
She nodded quickly, her loosened hair tumbling around her shoulders. "Yes," she said again. "You see, Julian, through some deductive logic I have come to the conclusion that you were right. We may deal much more favorably together if things are normal between us."
"In other words you are trying to bribe me into allowing you to stay here in London," he summarized in a silky tone.
"No, no, you misunderstand." Alarmed by his interpretation of her actions, Sophy thrust back the covers and quickly got to her feet beside the bed. Belatedly she realized how thin the fabric of her nightgown was. She snatched up her dressing gown and held it in front of her.
Julian plucked the robe out of her hand and tossed it aside. "You won't be needing that, will you, my dear? You're a woman bent on seduction now, remember? You must learn the fine art of your new career."
Sophy stared helplessly at the dressing gown on the floor. She felt exposed and terribly vulnerable standing there in her thin lawn nightdress. Tears of frustration burned in her eyes. For an instant she was afraid she might cry. "Please, Julian," she said quietly. "Give me a chance. I will do my best to make a success of our marriage."
He raised the candle higher in order to study her face. He was silent for an excruciating length of time before he spoke again. "Do you know, my dear," he said at last, "I believe you will make me a good wife. After I have finished teaching you that I am not a puppet you can set to dancing on the end of your string."