"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?"