"But I would not allow them to insult me. I would not put myself into such a position, Julian. I swear to you I would not."
He smiled fleetingly. "Sophy, I know you would not willingly do anything dishonorable or compromising. But these men are quite capable of manipulating events so that an innocent woman does not stand a chance. And once that had happened, I would have to demand satisfaction."
"No. Never. You must not even suggest such a possibility. I cannot bear to think of you engaging in a duel."
"The possibility already exists, Sophy. You have talked to Utteridge, have you not?"
"Yes, but I was most discreet. He could have had no notion of what I was trying to learn."
"What did you talk about?" Julian pressed quietly. "Did you mention Elizabeth by any chance?"
"Just in passing, I swear it."
"Then you will have aroused his curiosity. And that, my naive little innocent, is the first step toward disaster with a man of Utteridge's character. By the time you have finished questioning Varley and Ormiston, I will be up to my neck in dawn appointments."
Helplessly, Sophy stared at him. She recognized a trap when she saw one and this particular trap had no exit. She could not possibly allow Julian to risk his life in a duel over her honor. The very thought made her shudder with fear. "I promise you, I will be most extremely careful, my lord," she tried weakly, but she knew the argument was useless.
"There is too much risk involved. The only intelligent course of action now is to get you out of town. I want you safe in the countryside with your friends and family."
Sophy surrendered, tears burning in her eyes. "Very well, Julian. I will leave if you feel there is no other way. I would not have you risk a bullet because of my actions."
Julian's gaze softened. "Thank you, Sophy." He reached out and caught a teardrop on the end of his finger. "I know it is a great deal to ask of a woman whose notion of honor is as strong as my own. Believe me when I say I do understand your desire for vengeance."
Sophy impatiently wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "It is just so blasted unfair. Nothing is going the way I had thought it would when I agreed to marry you. Nothing. All my plans, all my dreams, all the things I hoped for, the things we contracted for between us. All has come to naught."
Julian watched her in brooding silence for a long moment. "Are things really so bad, Sophy?"
"Yes, my lord, they are. On top of everything else, I have reason to believe I may be breeding." She did not look back at him as she fled toward the screen at the other end of the room.
"Sophy!" Julian surged up off the bed and went after her. "What did you just say?"
Sophy sniffed back a few more of the wretched tears as she stood on the other side of the screen and tugged on her dressing gown. "I am quite certain you heard me."
Julian swept the screen aside, ignoring it as it clattered to the carpet. His gaze riveted on her stubbornly averted face. "You are with child?"
"Quite possibly. I realized this week that it has been much too long since my last monthly flux. I will not know for certain for a while longer, but I suspect I am, indeed, carrying your babe. If so, you should be quite content, my lord. Here I am pregnant and off to the country where I cannot cause any further disturbance in your life. You will have gotten everything you wanted out of this marriage. An heir and no trouble. I trust you will be satisfied."
"Sophy, I don't know what to say." Julian raked a hand through his hair. "If what you suspect is true, then I cannot deny I am well pleased. But I had hoped… that is, I had thought you would perhaps—" He broke off and fumbled awkwardly for the rest of his sentence. "I would have had you happier about the whole thing," he finally managed lamely.
Sophy glared at him from under her brows, the last of her tears drying up in the face of his typical male arrogance. "You assumed, no doubt, that the prospect of impending motherhood would turn me into a sweet-tempered, contented wife? One who would be quite willing to give up all her personal aspirations in favor of devoting herself full time to running your country houses and rearing your children?"
Julian had the grace to redden. "I had hoped it would make you more content, yes. Please believe me, I would have you happy in this marriage, Sophy."
"Oh, do go away, Julian. I want a bath and a rest." Fresh tears burned in her eyes. "There is much to be done if I am to be carted off to Hampshire tomorrow."
"Sophy." Julian made no move to leave the bedchamber. He stood there watching her with an oddly helpless expression. "Sophy, please do not cry." He opened his arms.
Sophy glowered at him a moment longer through her watery eyes, hating this new lack of control over her emotions. Then, with a gulping sob she walked straight into Julian's arms. They closed tightly around her as she proceeded to dampen his bare chest with her tears.
Julian held her until the storm subsided. He did not try to cheer her or soothe her or scold her. He simply folded her tightly against his strength and kept her there until the last of the wrenching sobs had faded.
Sophy recovered herself slowly, aware of the comforting warmth of Julian's embrace. It was the first time he had ever held her other than to kiss or to make love to her, she realized, the first time he had offered her something other than passion. She did not move for a long while, savoring the feel of his big palm moving soothingly up and down her spine.
Finally, with great reluctance, she pushed herself away from him. "I beg your pardon, my lord. I do not understand myself lately. I assure you, I hardly ever cry." She did not look at him as she stepped back. Instead she busied herself groping for the handkerchief that ought to have been in the pocket of her dressing gown. When she could not locate it, she muttered a small oath.
"Is this what you are looking for?" Julian scooped up the square of embroidered cotton from where it had fallen on the carpet.
Chagrined at the thought that she could not even manage to keep a handkerchief properly placed in her pocket, Sophy snatched it from his hand. "Yes, thank you."
"Allow me to get you a fresh one." He walked over to her dressing table and found another handkerchief.
When he handed it to her with an air of grave concern she blew into it with great energy, wadded it up and shoved it into her pocket. "Thank you, my lord. Please excuse such a depressing display of emotion. I do not know what came over me. Now, I really must have my bath. If you will forgive me, I have a great many details to attend to."
"Yes, Sophy," Julian said with a sigh. "I will forgive you. I only pray that someday you will forgive me." He picked up his clothes and walked out of the room without another word.
Much later that night Julian sat alone in the library, legs outstretched before him, a bottle of claret on the table beside him. He was in a devil of a mood and he knew it. The house was quiet now for the first time in hours. Up until a short time ago it had been busy with the bustle of Sophy's travel preparations. The commotion had depressed him. It was going to be lonely here without her.
Julian helped himself to another glass of claret and wondered if Sophy was crying herself to sleep. He had felt like a brute this morning when he had told her he was sending her back to Ravenwood Abbey but he also knew he had no choice. Once he had learned what she was up to, he'd had no option but to get her out of the city. She was wading into dangerous waters and she had no knowledge of how to keep herself front drowning.
Julian swallowed a mouthful of claret and speculated on whether or not he ought to feel guilty for the way he had manipulated Sophy that morning. At the very beginning of the confrontation in her bedchamber he had quickly realized there was no way she would respond to logical arguments about her own safety. Her personal sense of honor overrode such considerations. And he could not bring himself to use physical force to get her to do the reasonable thing.