"Well, I do not see that I am obliged to listen to any more of your lectures on the subject." Sophy jumped to her feet, blinking back the tears that trembled on her lashes. "It is obvious you do not understand. Harry is quite right when she says that men are seriously lacking in the ability to comprehend things that are important to a woman."
"What do I fail to understand? The fact that you behaved in a shocking manner when I have specifically told you that the one thing I will not tolerate is gossip about you?"
"There will be no gossip."
"That's what you think. I did my best to threaten Featherstone this morning, but there is absolutely no guarantee she will keep her mouth shut."
"She will. She said she would."
"Damn it, Sophy, surely you are not so naive as to put any faith in the word of a professional harlot?"
"As far as I can tell, she is a woman of honor. She gave me her word there would be no mention of your name in print and she said she would not discuss the events of this morning. That is good enough for me."
"Then you are a fool. And even if Featherstone keeps quiet, what about the young boy who drove you to Leighton Field? What about the woman in the black veil? What control do you have over either of them?"
"They will not speak of this," Sophy said.
"You mean you hope they will not speak of it."
"They were my seconds. They will honor their word not to say anything about what happened this morning."
"Damn it, are you telling me that they were both friends of yours?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Including the red-haired lad? Where on earth would you meet a young man of that class and get to know him well enough to—" Julian broke off, swearing again. "I believe I perceive the truth at last. It was not a young man at all who was driving your carriage, was it, madam? Another young woman dressed in mens' clothes, I presume. Good lord. A whole generation of females is running wild."
"If women occasionally seem a bit wild, my lord, it is almost certainly because men have driven them to it. Be that as it may, I do not intend to discuss my friends' roles in all this."
"No, I don't suppose you do. They helped you arrange the meeting at Leighton Field?"
"Yes."
"Thank God one of them had the sense to come to me this morning, although it would have been a great deal more accommodating of her to have sent word of this matter earlier. As it was, I barely arrived at Leighton Field in time. What are their names, Sophy?"
Sophy's nails bit into her palms. "You must realize I cannot tell you, my lord."
"The dictates of honor again, my dear?" His mouth curved grimly.
"Do not laugh at me, Julian. That is the one thing I will not tolerate from you. As you have observed, I came close to getting killed this morning because of you. The least you could do is refrain from finding it all laughable."
"You think I am laughing?" Julian pushed away from the desk and stalked to the window. Bracing one hand against the frame he turned his back to her and stared out into the small garden. "I assure you I find absolutely nothing in this whole mess the least amusing. I have spent the past few hours trying to decide what to do with you, Sophy."
"Such cogitation is probably bad for your liver, my lord."
"Well, it hasn't done my digestion any good, I'll admit. The only reason you are not already on your way to Ravenwood or Eslington Park is because your sudden absence would only create more talk. We must all act as if nothing has happened. It is the only hope. Thus, you will be allowed to remain here in London. However, you will not leave this house again unless you are escorted by either myself or my aunt. And as for your seconds, you are forbidden to see them again. You obviously cannot be trusted to choose your friends wisely."
At that final pronouncement, Sophy exploded in fury. It was all too much. The night of passion and fearful anticipation, the meeting at dawn with Charlotte Featherstone, Julian's arrogant indignation. It was more than Sophy could bear. For the first time in her adult life she completely lost her temper.
"No, damn you, Ravenwood, you go too far. You will not tell me who I can and cannot see."
He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over her with cold detachment. "You think not, madam?"
"I will not allow you to do so." Seething with frustration and rage, Sophy confronted him proudly. "I did not marry you in order to become your prisoner."
"Really?" he asked roughly. "Then why did you marry me, madam?"
"I married you because I love you," Sophy cried passionately. "I've loved you since I was eighteen years old, fool that I am."
"Sophy, what the hell are you saying?"
The towering rage consumed her completely. She was beyond logic or reason. "Furthermore, you cannot punish me for what occurred this morning because it was all your fault in the first place."
"My fault?" he roared, losing a good measure of his own unnatural calm.
"If you had not written those love letters to Charlotte Featherstone none of this would have happened."
"What love letters?" Julian snarled.
"The ones you wrote to her during the course of your affair with her. The ones she threatened to publish in her Memoirs. I could not endure it, Julian. Don't you see? I could not bear to have the whole world see the beautiful love letters you had written to your mistress when I have not received so much as a shopping list from you. You may scoff all you wish, but I, too, have my pride."
Julian was staring at her. "Is that what Featherstone threatened? To print old love letters of mine?"
"Yes, damn you. You sent love letters to a mistress and yet you cannot be bothered to give your wife the smallest token of your affection. But I suppose that is perfectly understandable when one considers the feet that you have no affection for me."
"For God's sake, Sophy, I was a very young man when I first met Charlotte Featherstone. I may or may not have scribbled a note or two to her. The truth is, I barely recall the entire affair. In any event, you would do well to keep in mind that very young men occasionally put into writing passing fancies that are far better left unwritten. Such fancies are meaningless, I assure you."
"Oh, I believe you, my lord."
"Sophy, under normal circumstances, I would never discuss a woman such as Featherstone with you. But given the bizarre situation in which we find ourselves, allow me to explain something very clearly. There is not a great degree of affection involved on either side in the sort of relationship a man has with a woman like Featherstone. It is a matter of business for the woman and convenience for the man."
"Such a relationship sounds very much like a marriage, my lord, except, of course, that a wife does not have the luxury of handling her own business affairs the way a woman of the demimonde does."
"Damn it, Sophy, there is a world of difference between your situation and Featherstone's." Julian made an obvious effort to hold onto his self-control.
"Is there, my lord? I will allow that, unless you manage to squander your fortune, I shall probably not have to worry overmuch about my pension the way Charlotte must. But other than that, I am not certain I am as well off as Charlotte."
"You've lost your senses, Sophy. You're becoming irrational."
"And you are utterly impossible, my lord." Her rage was burning itself out. Sophy was suddenly aware of being unutterably weary. "There is no dealing with such arrogance. I do not know why I bother to try."
"You find me arrogant? Believe me, Sophy, that is nothing compared to what I was this morning when I looked out your window and saw you climbing into that closed carriage."