"Do you know what I thought when I saw you step into that carriage?" Julian's gaze was emerald hard.

"I imagine you were concerned, my lord?"

"Goddamn it, Sophy, I thought you were leaving with your lover."

She stared at him. "Lover? What lover?"

"You may be assured that was one of the many questions I asked myself as I rode after you. I did not even know which bastard among all the bastards in London was taking you away."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Julian, that was a perfectly stupid conclusion for you to arrive at."

"Was it?"

"It most certainly was. What on earth would I want with another man? I cannot seem to handle the one I've got." She swung around and went to the door.

"Sophy, stop right where you are. Where do you think you're going? I'm not through with you."

"But I am quite through with you, my lord. Through with being berated for trying to do the honorable thing. Through with trying to make you fall in love with me. Through with any attempt to create a marriage based on mutual respect and affection."

"Damn it, Sophy."

"Do not worry, my lord. I have learned my lesson. From now on you will have exactly the sort of marriage you desire. I will endeavor to stay out of your way. I shall occupy myself with other more important matters— matters which I should have put first right from the start."

"Will you, indeed?" he snarled. "And what about this great love you say you have for me?"

"You need not worry. I will not speak of it again. I realize to do so would only embarrass you and further humiliate me. I assure you, I have been humiliated enough by you to last me a lifetime."

Julian's expression softened slightly. "Sophy, my dear, come back here and be seated. I have much to say to you."

"I do not wish to listen to any more of your tiresome lectures. Do you know something, Julian? I find your male code of honor to be quite silly. Standing twenty paces apart in the cold air of dawn while blazing away at one another with pistols is a senseless way to resolve an argument."

"On that point, I assure you we are in complete agreement, madam."

"I doubt it. You would have gone through with it without questioning the entire process. Charlotte and I, on the other hand, discussed the subject at some length."

"You stood there talking about it?" Julian asked in amazement.

"Of course we did. We are women, my lord, and thus eminently more suited than men to an intellectual discussion of such issues. We had just been informed that an apology would resolve everything honorably and thereby make any shooting unnecessary when you had to come thundering up out of nowhere and proceed to interfere in something that was none of your business."

Julian groaned. "I do not believe this. Featherstone was going to apologize to you?"

"Yes, I believe she was. She is a woman of honor and she recognized that she owed me an apology. And I will tell you something, my lord, she was right when she said that no man was worth getting up at such an ungodly hour for the purpose of risking a bullet."

Sophy let herself out of the library and closed the door very quietly behind her. She told herself to take what satisfaction she could from having had the exit line this time. It was all she was going to get from the whole miserable affair.

Tears burned in her eyes. She dashed upstairs and headed for her room to shed them in solitude.

A long time later, she lifted her head from her folded arms, went to the basin to wash her face and then sat down at her writing table. Picking up a pen, she adjusted a sheet of paper in front of her and composed one more letter to Charlotte Featherstone.

Dear Miss C. E:

Enclosed please find the sum of two hundred pounds. I do not send this to you because of your promise to refrain from printing certain letters; rather because I do feel quite strongly that your many admirers owe you the same consideration they owe their wives. After all, they seem to have enjoyed the same sort of relationship with you that they have with the women they marry. Thus, they have an obligation to provide you with a pension. The enclosed draft is our mutual friend's share of the pension owed to you. I wish you good luck with your cottage in Bath.

Yours, S.

Sophy reread the note and sealed it. She would give it to Anne to deliver. Anne seemed to know how to handle that sort of thing.

And that ended the whole fiasco, Sophy thought as she leaned back in her chair. She had told Julian the truth. She had, indeed, learned a valuable lesson this morning. There was no point trying to win her husband's respect by living up to his masculine code of honor.

And she already knew she stood little chance of winning his love.

All in all there did not seem to be much point in spending any more time working on her marriage. It was quite hopeless to try to alter the rules Julian had laid down for it. She was trapped in this velvet prison and she would have to make the best of it. From now on she would go her own way and live her own life. She and Julian would meet occasionally at routs and balls and in the bedchamber.

She would undertake to give him his heir and he, in return, would see that she was well dressed and well fed and well housed for the rest of her life. It was not a bad bargain, she reflected, just a very lonely, empty one.

It did not promise to be the kind of marriage she had longed for but at least she was finally facing reality, Sophy decided. And, she reminded herself as she got to her feet, she had other things to do here in London. She had wasted enough time trying to win Julian's love and affection. He had none to give.

And, as she had told Julian, she had another project to keep her occupied. It was past time she gave her full attention to the matter of finding her sister's seducer.

Resolved to devote herself to that task, Sophy went to the wardrobe to examine the gypsy costume she planned to wear that evening to Lady Musgrove's masquerade ball. She stood contemplating the colorful gown, scarf and mask for some time and then she glanced at her small jewelry case.

She needed a plan of action, a way to draw out those who might know something about the black ring.

Inspiration struck suddenly. What better way to start her quest for the truth than to wear the ring at a masquerade ball where her own identity was a secret? It would be interesting to see if anyone noticed the ring and commented on it. If so, she might begin to pick up a few clues about its previous owner.

But the ball was hours away and she had been up for a long time already. Sophy discovered she was physically and emotionally exhausted. She went over to the bed with the intention of taking a brief nap and was sound asleep within minutes.

Downstairs in the library Julian stood staring at the empty hearth. Sophy's remark that no man was worth the effort of rising at dawn to risk a bullet burned in his ears. He had made a similar remark after fighting his last duel over Elizabeth.

But this morning Sophy had done exactly that, Julian thought. God help him, she had done the inconceivable, for a respectable woman. She had challenged a famous courtesan to a duel and then she had risen at dawn with the intention of risking her neck over a question of honor.

And all because his wife thought herself in love with him and could not bear to see his love letters to another woman in print.

He could only be thankful Charlotte had apparently refrained from mentioning that the pearl earrings she had worn to the dawn meeting had been a gift from him years ago. He had recognized them at once. If Sophy had known about the earrings she would have been twice as incensed. The fact that Charlotte had not taunted her younger opponent with the pearls said a great deal about Featherstone's respect for the woman who had called her out.