Sophy glanced up and saw the fateful pond as it came into sight through a stand of trees. On a whim, she halted the mare. The animal snuffled and began searching about for something to nibble while Sophy sat still and studied the scene.
As she had told Bess, she did not believe Elizabeth had taken her own life and the journal had revealed the rather interesting fact that the first Countess of Ravenwood knew how to swim. Of course, if a woman fell into a deep body of water wearing a heavy riding habit or similar attire, she might very well drown regardless of her skill in water. The enormous weight of so much water-logged fabric would be hard to handle. It could easily drag a victim under the surface.
"What am I doing pondering Elizabeth's death?" Sophy asked the mare. "It's not as if I am bored or without enough to do already at the Abbey. This is foolishness, as Julian would no doubt be the first to tell me, were he here."
The horse ignored her in favor of munching a mouthful of tall grasses. Sophy hesitated a moment longer and then slipped down out of the saddle. Reins in hand, she went to stand at the edge of the pond. There was a mystery here and she had an intuitive feeling now that it was not unrelated to the mystery of her sister's death.
Behind her the mare nickered a faint welcome to another horse. Surprised that anyone else should be riding along this portion of the Ravenwood lands, Sophy started to turn around.
She did not move quickly enough. The horse's rider had already dismounted and moved in too close. Sophy had a brief glimpse of a man in a black mask carrying a huge, black, billowing cloak. She started to scream but the folds of the cloak swept out to engulf her and then she was imprisoned in a muffling darkness.
She lost her grip on the reins, heard the mare's startled snort and then the sound of the creature's hooves striking the ground. Sophy's captor swore viciously as the horse's hoof beats faded into the distance.
Sophy struggled frantically within the confines of the cloak but a moment later strong cords were passed around her midsection and her legs, chaining her arms and her ankles.
The wind was knocked out of her as she was thrown across the pommel of a saddle.
"Would you kill me at this late date for what happened nearly five years ago, Ravenwood?" Lord Utteridge asked with a world weary sigh of resignation. "I did not think you were so slow when it came to this sort of thing.
Julian faced him in the small alcove off Lady Salisbury's glittering ballroom. "Do not act the fool, Utteridge. I have no interest in what happened five years ago and you know it. It is the present that matters. And make no mistake: what happens in the present matters very much."
"For God's sake, man, I have done no more than dance with your new Countess. And only on one occasion, at that. We both know you cannot call me out on such a flimsy pretext. It will create scandal where there is none."
"I can understand your anxiety about even the mildest conversation with a husband, any husband. Your reputation is such that you are unlikely to be comfortable in the company of married men." Julian smiled coldly. "It will be most interesting to see how your attitude toward the sport of cuckoldry changes once you, yourself, are married. But as it happens, I seek answers from you, Utteridge, not an appointment at dawn."
Utteridge regarded him warily. "Answers about what happened five years ago? What is the point? I assure you, I lost interest in Elizabeth after you put bullets in Ormiston and Varley. I am not a complete fool."
Julian shrugged impatiently. "I do not give a bloody damn about five years ago. I have told you that. What I want is information on the rings."
Utteridge went unnaturally still and alert. "What rings?"
Julian opened his fist and revealed the embossed black ring in his palm. "Rings such as this one."
Utteridge stared at the circlet of metal. "Where the devil did you get that?"
"That need not concern you."
Utteridge's eyes lifted reluctantly from the ring to Julian's expressionless face. "It is not mine. I swear it."
"I did not think it was. But you have one like it, do you not?"
"Of course not. Why would I want such an unremarkable object?"
Julian glanced down at the ring. "It is singularly ugly, isn't it? But, then it symbolized an ugly game. Tell me, Utteridge, do you and Varley and Ormiston still play those games?"
"By God, man, I tell you, I have not done more than exchange a few words with your wife on the dance floor. Are you hurling accusations? If so, make them plain. Do not fence with me, Ravenwood."
"No accusations. At least, not against you. Just give me answers, Utteridge, and I will leave you in peace."
"And if I do not give them to you?"
"Why, then," Julian said easily, "we must discuss that dawn appointment you mentioned a moment ago."
"You would call me out simply because you're not getting the answers you seek?" Utteridge was clearly taken aback. "Ravenwood, I tell you, I have not touched your new bride."
"I believe you. If you had, rest assured I would not be content with putting a bullet in your arm the way I did with Ormiston and Varley. You would be dead."
Utteridge stared at him. "Yes, I can see that is a very real possibility. You did not kill anyone over the issue of Elizabeth's honor but you are obviously prepared to do so on behalf of your new lady. Tell me, why do you need answers about the ring, Ravenwood?"
"Let us merely say that I have assumed the responsibility of seeing justice done on behalf of someone whose name need not concern you."
Utteridge sneered faintly. "A cuckolded friend of yours, perhaps?"
Julian shook his head. "A friend of a young woman who is now dead along with her unborn child."
Utteridge's sneer vanished. "Are we talking about murder?"
"It depends on how you look at the matter. The one on whose behalf I am acting definitely thinks the owner of this ring is a murderer."
"But did he kill this young woman you mentioned?" Utteridge persisted.
"He caused her to take her own life."
"Some stupid little chit gets herself seduced and in trouble and now you seek vengeance for her? Come now, Ravenwood. You are a man of the world. You know that sort of thing happens all the time."
"Apparently the one I represent does not view that as a sufficiently mitigating circumstance," Julian murmured. "And I am bound to take the matter as seriously as my friend does."
Utteridge frowned. "Who are you representing? The mother of the girl? A grandparent, perhaps?"
"As I said, that need not concern you. I have told you enough to assure you that I am not going to put a bullet in you, Utteridge, unless you force me to do so. You need no more information."
Utteridge grimaced. "Perhaps I owe you something after all this time. Elizabeth was a very strange woman, was she not?"
"I am not here to discuss Elizabeth."
Utteridge nodded. "As you have approached me, I believe you already know a great deal about the rings."
"I know that you and Varley and Ormiston wore them."
"There were others."
"Now dead," Ravenwood noted. "I have already traced two of them."
Utteridge slid him a thoughtful, sidelong glance. "But there is one other whom you have not named and who is not dead."
"You will give me his name."
"Why not? I owe him nothing and if I do not tell you, I am certain you will get the name from Ormiston or Varley. I will tell you what you want to know, Ravenwood, if you will assure me that will be the end of it. I have no wish to arise at dawn for any reason whatsoever. Getting up early does not suit my constitution."
"The name, Utteridge."
Half an hour later Julian leaped down from his carriage and strode up the steps of his home. His mind was full of the information he had forced out of Utteridge. When Guppy opened the door, Julian stepped into the main hall with a short nod of greeting.