"What makes you believe you can remedy such a situation?" Waycott grinned lazily. "You had very little luck doing so in the past."

"There is a difference this time around, Julian said calmly.

"And what would that be?"

"This time I will know exactly where to look should any potential threat to my wife arise. I will not be slow to crush that threat."

There was a cold fever burning in Waycott's eyes now. "Should I take that as a warning?"

"I leave you to your own judgment, unsound though it is." Julian inclined his head mockingly.

Waycott's hand tightened into a clenched fist and the fever in his eyes grew hot. "Damn you, Ravenwood," he hissed very softly, "If you think you have cause to call me out, then get on with it."

"But I have no cause as of yet, do I?" Julian asked silkily.

"There is always the matter of Elizabeth," Waycott challenged tightly. His fingers flexed and unflexed nervously.

"You credit me with far too rigid a code of honor," Julian said. "I would certainly never bother to get up at dawn in order to kill a man because of Elizabeth. She was not worth that much effort."

Waycott's cheeks were stained red with his frustration and fury. "You have another wife now. Will you allow yourself to be cuckolded a second time, Ravenwood?"

"No," Julian said very quietly. "Unlike Elizabeth, Sophy is, indeed, worth the effort of killing a man and I would not hesitate to do so should it become necessary."

"You bastard. You were the one who was not worthy of Elizabeth. And do not be bothered to issue threats. We all know you will never challenge me or any other man again because of a woman. You said so, yourself, remember?" Waycott took a menacing step forward.

"Did I?" A surge of anticipation shot through Julian. But before anything more could be said by either man Daregate and Thurgood materialized at Julian's side.

"There you are, Ravenwood," Daregate said smoothly to Julian. "Thurgood and I have been looking for you. We mean to persuade you into giving us a hand or two of cards. You will excuse us, Waycott?" He flashed his slightly cruel, taunting smile.

Waycott's blond head moved in a jerky nod. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

Julian watched him leave, feeling a savage disappointment. "I don't know why you bothered to interfere," he remarked to his friends. "Sooner or later I will probably have to kill him."

NINE

The scented letter with the elegant lilac seal arrived on the side of Sophy's tea tray the next morning. She sat up in bed, yawning and glanced curiously at the unexpected missive.

"When did this arrive, Mary?"

"One of the footmen said it was brought round by a lad not more than a half hour ago, my lady." Mary bustled about the room, drawing the curtains and laying out a pretty cotton morning dress that had been chosen by Fanny and Sophy a few days earlier.

Sophy sipped tea and slit the seal on the envelope. Idly she scanned the contents and then frowned as she realized they made no sense at first. There was no signature, just initials in the closing. It took her a second reading to comprehend the import of the letter.

Dear Madam:

First, allow me to begin by offering you my most sincerely felt felicitations on the occasion of your recent marriage. I have never had the honor of being introduced to you but I feel a degree of familiarity exists between us owing to our having a certain mutual friend. I am also certain that you are a woman of sensitivity and discretion as our friend is not the sort to make the same mistake in a second marriage as he made in his first.

Having faith in your discretion, I believe that, once having read the contents of this letter, you will wish to take the simple step that will ensure that the details of my most agreeable association with our mutual friend remain private.

I am, Madam, presently engaged in the difficult task of assuring the peace and tranquility of my old age. I do not wish to be forced to rely on charity in my later years. I am achieving my goal by means of the publication of my Memoirs. Perhaps you are familiar with the first installments? There will be several more published in the near future.

My aim in writing these Memoirs is not to humiliate or embarrass, but rather simply to raise sufficient funds to provide for an uncertain future. In that light, I am offering an opportunity to those concerned to assure themselves that specific names do not appear in print and thereby cause unpleasant gossip. This same opportunity will also afford me the funds I seek without obliging me to resort to revealing intimate details of past associations. As you can see, the proposition I will put to you presently is beneficial to all involved.

Now, then, Madam, I come to the point: If you will send the sum of two hundred pounds to me by five o'clock tomorrow afternoon you may rest assured that a number of charming letters your husband once wrote to me do not appear in my Memoirs.

To you such a sum of money is a mere pittance, less than the cost of a new gown. To me it is a building block in the cozy little rose-covered cottage in Bath to which I will soon retire. I look forward to hearing from you promptly.

I remain, Madam, yours very truly, C. E

Sophy reread the letter a third time, her hands shaking. She was dazed by the flames of rage that burst to life within her. It was not the fact that Julian might once have been intimately involved with Charlotte Featherstone that infuriated her, she realized. It was not even the threat of having that past association detailed in print, as humiliating as it would be, that left her trembling with anger.

What made Sophy lightheaded with fury was the realization that Julian had once taken the time to write love notes to a professional courtesan yet he could not be bothered to jot so much as a simple love poem to his new wife.

"Mary, put away the morning dress and get out my green riding habit."

Mary glanced at her in surprise. "You have decided to ride this mornin', ma'am?"

"Yes, I have."

"Will Lord Ravenwood be going with you?" Mary inquired as she set to work.

"No, he will not." Sophy shoved back the covers and got to her feet, still clutching Charlotte Featherstone's letter in one hand. "Anne Silverthorne and Jane Morland ride nearly every morning in the park. I believe I will join them today."

Mary nodded. "I'll send word to have a horse and a groom waitin' for you downstairs, my lady."

"Please do that, Mary."

A short while later Sophy was assisted onto a fine chestnut mare by a liveried groom who had his own pony waiting nearby. She set off at once for the park, leaving the groom to follow as best he could.

It was not difficult to find Anne and Jane who were cantering along one of the main paths. Their grooms followed at a discreet distance, chatting in low tones with each other.

Anne's froth of red curls gleamed in the morning light and her vivid eyes sparkled with welcome as she caught sight of Sophy.

"Sophy, I'm so glad you could join us this morning. We are just beginning our ride. Isn't it a beautiful day?"

"For some, perhaps," Sophy allowed ominously. "But not for others. I must talk with both of you."

Jane's perpetually serious gaze grew even darker with concern. "Is something wrong, Sophy?"

"Very wrong. I cannot even bring myself to try to explain. It is beyond anything. Never have I been so humiliated. Here. Read this." Sophy handed Charlotte's letter to Jane as the three women slowed their horses to a walk along the path.

"Good heavens," Jane breathed, looking stricken as she scanned the note. Without another word she handed the letter to Anne.

Anne perused the missive quickly and then glanced up, clearly shocked. "She is going to print the letters Ravenwood wrote to her?"