"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."

"I never intended to treat you that way, my lord." Sophy bit her lip, stricken by the depths of his outrage. "I sincerely regret what happened at Eslington Park. You must know I have no experience in dealing with a husband. I was only trying to protect myself."

He bit off a sharp exclamation. "Be quiet, Sophy. Every time you open your mouth you manage to sound less and less like a proper wife."

Sophy ignored the advice. She was convinced her mouth was the only useful weapon in her small arsenal at that moment. Hesitantly she touched the sleeve of his silk dressing gown. "Let me stay here in town, Julian. Let me show you I am sincere about putting our marriage right. I swear to you I will work diligently at the task."

"Will you?" He regarded her with cold, glittering eyes.

Sophy felt something inside her begin to shrivel and die. She had been so certain she could convince him to give her a second chance. During the short honeymoon at Eslington Park she thought she had gotten to know this man rather well. He was not deliberately cruel or unfair in his dealings with others. She had counted on him maintaining that same code of behavior when dealing with a wife.

"Perhaps I was wrong," she said. "I had hoped you would be willing to give me the same opportunity to prove myself that you would give one of your tenants who was in arrears in regard to the rent."

For an instant he looked totally nonplussed. "You're equating yourself with one of my tenants?"

"I thought the analogy rather apt."

"The analogy is rather idiotic."

"Then perhaps there is no hope of putting things right between us."

"You are wrong, Sophy. I told you that I believe you will eventually make me a proper wife and I meant what I said. I intend to see to it, in fact. The only real question is how that may best be achieved. You have a great deal to learn."

So do you , Sophy thought. And who better to teach you than your wife? But she must remember that she had taken Julian by surprise tonight and men did not handle surprises well. Her husband needed time to accept that she was under his roof and intended to stay. "I promise you that I will not give you any trouble if you allow me to remain here in London, my lord."

"No trouble, hm?" For a brief second the candlelight revealed what might have been a gleam of amusement in Julian's cold gaze. "I cannot tell you how much that reassures me, Sophy. Get back into bed and go to sleep. I will give you my decision in the morning."

A vast sense of relief swamped her. She had won the first round. He was no longer dismissing her out of hand. Sophy smiled tremulously. "Thank you, Julian."

"Do not thank me yet, madam. We have a great deal to sort out between the two of us."

"I realize that. But we are two intelligent people who happen to be stuck with one another. We must use some common sense to learn to live tolerantly together, don't you agree?"

"Is that how you see our situation, Sophy? You consider us stuck with each other?"

"I know you would prefer that I not romanticize the matter, my lord. I am endeavoring to take a more realistic view of our marriage."

"Make the best of things, in other words?"

She brightened. "Precisely, my lord. Rather like a pair of draft horses that are obliged to work in harness together. We must share the same barn, drink from the same trough, eat from the same hay bale."

"Sophy," Julian interrupted, "Please do not draw any more farming analogies. I find they cloud my thinking."

"I would not want to do that, my lord."

"How charitable of you. I will see you in the library at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning." Julian turned and strode out of the room, taking the light with him.

Sophy was left standing alone in the darkness. But her spirits soared as she climbed back into the big bed. The first hurdle had been cleared. She sensed Julian was not entirely unwilling to have her here. If she could refrain from provoking him in the morning, she would be allowed to stay.

She had been right about his nature, Sophy told herself happily. Julian was a hard, cold man in many ways but he was an honorable one. He would deal fairly with her.

Sophy changed her mind three times about what to wear for the interview with Julian the next morning. One would have thought she was dressing for a ball instead of a discussion with her husband, she chided herself. Or perhaps a military campaign would be a more accurate analogy.

She finally chose a light yellow gown trimmed in white and asked her maid to put her hair up in a cascade of fashionable ringlets.

By the time she was satisfied with the effect she had less than five minutes to descend the staircase. She hurried along the hall and dashed down the stairs, arriving slightly breathless at the door of the library. A footman promptly opened it for her and she swept inside, a hopeful smile on her face.

Julian rose slowly from behind his desk and greeted her with a formal inclination of his head. "You need not have rushed, Sophy."

"It's quite all right," she assured him, moving forward quickly. "I did not want to keep you waiting."

"Wives are notorious for keeping their husbands waiting."

"Oh." She was not quite certain how to take the dry remark. "Well, I can always practice that particular talent another time." She glanced around and spotted a green silk chair. "This morning I am far too anxious to hear your decision regarding my future."

She stepped toward the green chair and promptly tripped. She caught herself immediately and glanced down to see what it was that had caused her to lose her footing. Julian followed her gaze.

"The ribbon of your slipper appears to have come untied," he observed politely.

Sophy flushed with embarrassment and sat down quickly. "So it has." She bent over and hastily retied the offending slipper ribbon. When she straightened she found Julian had reseated himself and was studying her with an oddly resigned expression on his face. "Is something wrong, my lord?"

"No. Everything appears to be going along in a perfectly normal fashion. Now, then, about your wish to be allowed to stay here in London."

"Yes, my lord?" She waited in an agony of anticipation to see if she had been right about his fundamental sense of fair play.

Julian hesitated, frowning thoughtfully as he leaned back in his chair to study her face. "I have decided to grant your request."

Elation bubbled up inside Sophy. She smiled very brilliantly, her relief and happiness in her eyes. "Oh, Julian, thank you. I promise you, you will not regret your decision. You are being very gracious about this and I probably do not deserve your generosity but I want to assure you I fully intend to live up to your expectations of a wife."