FOURTEEN

Waycott was making a nuisance of himself and not for the first time. Sophy was growing increasingly annoyed with him. She frowned slightly over Lord Utteridge's shoulder as he led her out onto the dance floor and saw with relief that Waycott was apparently heading out into the gardens.

It was about time he left her alone tonight, Sophy told herself. She had finally managed an introduction and a dance with the first name on her list—the once-handsome, but now dissipated-looking, Utteridge—but it had been hard work. Ever since she had arrived at the party, Waycott had been hovering, just as he had hovered on several other occasions during the past two weeks.

It had been hard enough to discover Utteridge's likely whereabouts this evening, Sophy thought, irritated—much more difficult than she and Anne and Jane had anticipated. She did not need Waycott getting in her way on top of everything else. Luckily Anne had been able to find out the pertinent information concerning the guest list at this rout at the last minute. Sophy certainly did not want to waste the time and effort that had been involved in getting herself on the same guest list.

The information available on Lord Utteridge had been minimal.

"I'm told he's run through most of his fortune at the gaming tables and has now begun to look for a rich wife," Anne had explained earlier that afternoon. "At the moment he's trying to attract the interest of Cordelia Biddle and she's scheduled to be at the Dallimores' tonight."

"Lady Fanny should be able to get me invited," Sophy had decided and that assumption had turned out to be quite correct. Lady Fanny had been a bit startled that Sophy should want to attend a function that promised to be exceedingly dull, but she had obligingly had a word with the hostess.

"It was not the least bit difficult, my dear," Fanny had said later with a knowing look in her eye. "You are considered a prize for any hostess these days."

"The power of Julian's title, I suppose," Sophy had remarked dryly, thinking that if Anne was right she would be able to use that power to ultimately punish Amelia's seducer.

"The Ravenwood title certainly helps," Harriett had agreed, looking up from her book, "but you may as well know, my girl, that it is not entirely because you're a Countess that you're fast becoming quite the thing this season."

Sophy was momentarily startled by the observation and then she grinned. "You need not go into detail, Harry. I am well aware that I owe whatever popularity I am presently enjoying to the simple fact that even the members of the ton suffer from the headache, digestive problems, and assorted bilious livers. I swear, whenever I attend a party I end up writing out as many medicinal recipes as an apothecary."

Harriett had exchanged a smiling glance with Fanny and gone back to her book.

But the plan had worked and Sophy had found herself cordially welcomed that evening by a delighted hostess who had never dreamed she would be lucky enough to get the new Countess of Ravenwood to her rout. After that it had been a simple matter to track down Lord Utteridge. If it were not for Waycott's persistent petitions for a dance, all would have been going quite well.

"I would venture to say that Ravenwood must be finding you quite a change from his first wife," Utteridge murmured in a syrupy voice.

Sophy, who had been waiting anxiously for just such an opening, smiled encouragingly. "Did you know her well, my lord?"

Utteridge's smile was unpleasant. "Let us say I had the pleasure of several intimate conversations with her. She was a most entrancing woman. Quite dazzling to the senses. Fascinating, mysterious, captivating. With just a smile she could leave a man bedeviled for days. She was also, I think, very dangerous."

A succubus . Sophy remembered the strange design on the black ring. More than one man might have felt the need to protect himself from a woman such as Elizabeth even as he willingly fell under her spell.

"Did you visit frequently with my husband and his first wife at Ravenwood?" Sophy asked as casually as possible.

Utteridge chuckled dryly. "Ravenwood seldom entertained with his wife. At least not after the first few months of their marriage. Ah, those first few months were quite amusing for the rest of us, I must say."

"Amusing?" Sophy felt a small chill.

"Yes, indeed," Utteridge said with relish. "There were scenes and public displays aplenty during that first year, which provided endless entertainment for the ton. But after that Ravenwood and his wife began going their separate ways. Some say he was on the point of suing for separation and divorce when Elizabeth died."

Julian must have hated those embarrassing public scenes. No wonder he was so adamant about his new wife not becoming the focus of gossip. Sophy tried to get back to her original question. "Have you ever been to Ravenwood Abbey, my lord?"

"Twice, as I recall," Utteridge said casually. "Didn't stay long either time, although Elizabeth could be quite charming. Don't care for the country, myself. A man with my constitution does not enjoy ruralizing. I'm much more comfortable in the city."

"I see." Sophy listened carefully to Utteridge's voice and the rhythms of his speech, trying to decide if he was the man in the black cape and mask who had warned her about the ring the night of the masquerade. She did not think so.

And if Utteridge spoke the truth, she did not think he could have been Amelia's seducer. Whoever that man was he had stayed at Ravenwood on more than two occasions. Amelia had gone out to meet her lover several times over a three-month period. Of course, there was always the possibility Utteridge was lying about the frequency of his visits but Sophy could not think why he should bother to do so.

This whole business of trying to track down Amelia's seducer was going to be extremely difficult, she acknowledged.

"Tell me, madam, do you intend to follow in your predecessor's footsteps? If so, I hope you will include me in your plans. I might even consider another trip into Hampshire if you were proposing to be my hostess," Utteridge said in a dangerously smooth voice.

The barely veiled insult snapped Sophy out of her reverie. She stopped in the middle of the floor, her head tilting angrily. "Exactly what are you implying, my lord?"

"Why nothing, my dear, I assure you. I was merely asking out of curiosity. You seemed interested in the activities of the previous Countess so I wondered if, perhaps, you had, um, aspirations to live the rather reckless life she favored."

"Not at all," Sophy said tightly. "I cannot think where you could have gotten that impression."

"Calm yourself, madam. I intended no insult. I had heard a few rumors and I must admit they piqued my curiosity."

"What rumors?" Sophy demanded, suddenly anxious. If word had gotten out about the attempted duel between herself and Charlotte Featherstone, Julian would be furious.

"Nothing important, I promise you." Utteridge smiled with cold whimsy and casually adjusted the dangling artificial flower in Sophy's hair. "Just a little chatter about the Ravenwood emeralds."

"Oh, those." Sophy hid her relief. "What about them, my lord?"

"A few people have wondered why you've never worn them in public," Utteridge said silkily, but his eyes were piercing.

"How odd," Sophy said. "Imagine anyone wasting a moment's thought on such a mundane matter. I believe the dance is finished, my lord."

"I wonder if you will excuse me, then, madam," Utteridge said with a laconic bow as the dance ended. "I believe I am engaged for the next dance."

"Of course." Sophy inclined her head aloofly and watched as Utteridge moved off through the crowd toward a young blond, blue-eyed woman dressed in pale blue silk.