Another silence gripped the shadowed bed. Then Julian asked softly, "Would it be so bad to bear me a son, Sophy?"
"What happens if I bear you a daughter, my lord?" she asked coolly, avoiding a direct answer to his question.
He smiled unexpectedly. "A daughter would do very nicely, especially if she took after her mother."
Sophy wondered how to take the compliment and decided not to question it too deeply. "But you require a son for Ravenwood."
"Then we will just have to keep trying until we get one, won't we?" Julian asked. He reached out and pulled her against his side, cradling her head on his shoulder. "But I don't think we will have too much trouble making a son. Sinclairs always produce sons and you are strong and healthy. But you did not answer my question, Sophy. Would you mind very much if it should come about that you conceived tonight?"
"It is very soon in our marriage, she pointed out hesitantly. "We both have much to learn about each other. It would seem wiser to wait." Until you can learn to love me, she added silently.
"I see no point in waiting. A babe would be good for you, Sophy.
"Why? Because it would make me more aware of my duties and responsibilities as your wife?" she retorted. "I assure you, I am already quite cognizant of them."
Julian sighed. "I only meant that I believe you would make a good mother. And I think a babe of your own would perhaps make you more content with your role as a wife."
Sophy groaned, angry at herself for having ruined the mood of tenderness and intimacy that Julian had offered after the lovemaking. She sought to retrieve the fragile moment with a dose of humor. Turning on her side she smiled down at him teasingly. "Tell me, Julian, are all husbands so arrogantly certain they know what is best for their wives?"
"Sophy, you wound me." He grimaced, striving to look both innocent and injured. But there was relief and a hint of laughter in his eyes. "You do think me arrogant, don't you?"
"There are times when I am unable to avoid that conclusion."
His gaze grew serious again. "I know it must seem that way to you. But in all truth, I want to be a good husband to you, Sophy."
"I know that," she murmured gently. "It is precisely because I do know it that I am so willing to tolerate your bouts of high-handedness. You see what an understanding wife you have?"
He regarded her through half-lowered lids. "A paragon of a wife."
"Never doubt it for a moment. I could give lessons."
"A notion that would send chills through the other husbands of the ton. I will, however, endeavor to keep your good intentions in mind when you are involved in such tricks as brewing sleeping potions and reading that damnable Wollstonecraft." He raised his head long enough to kiss Sophy soundly and then he flopped back onto the snowy pillows. "There is something else we must discuss tonight, my paragon of a wife."
"What is that?" She yawned, aware that she was growing sleepy. It was strange having him in her bed but she was discovering a certain comfort in his strength and warmth. She wondered if he would stay the night.
"You were annoyed earlier when I said that I thought we should consummate our marriage," he began slowly.
"Only because you insisted that it was for my own good."
He smiled faintly. "Yes, I can see where you get the notion that I have a tendency to be arrogant and high handed. But be that as it may, it is definitely time you knew the true risk you run when you flirt with Waycott and his like."
Sophy's sleepy good humor vanished in a heartbeat. She pushed herself up on her elbow and glared down at Julian. "I was not flirting with the Viscount."
"Yes, Sophy, you were. I will allow that you may not have realized it but I assure you, he was looking at you as if you were a gooseberry tart covered in cream. And every-time you smiled at him, he licked his chops."
"Julian, you exaggerate!"
He pulled her back down onto his shoulder. "No, Sophy, I do not. And Waycott is not the only one who was salivating around you this evening. You must be very careful of such men. Above all you must not encourage them, even unwittingly."
"Why do you fear Waycott in particular?"
"I do not fear him. But I accept the fact that he is dangerous to women and I do not want my wife courting such danger. He would seduce you in a moment if he thought it possible."
"Why me? There were a number of far more beautiful women at Lady Yelverton's ball tonight."
"He will pick you above all others if the chance comes his way because you are my wife."
"But why?"
"He bears a deep and abiding hatred for me, Sophy. Never forget that."
And suddenly everything fell into place. "Was Waycott one of Elizabeth's lovers?" she asked without pausing to think.
Julian's jaw tightened and his expression reverted to the grim, forbidding mask that had helped earn him the title of devil. "I have told you I do not discuss my first wife with anyone. Not even you, Sophy."
She started to edge out of his circling arm. "Forgive me, Julian. I forgot myself."
"Yes, you did." His arm locked around her as he felt her trying to pull away. He ignored her small struggles. "But since you are a paragon of a wife, I am sure it will not happen again, will it?"
Sophy stopped trying to escape the chain of his arm. She narrowed her gaze and studied him intently. "Are you teasing me again, Julian?"
"No, madam, I assure you, I am very serious." But he was smiling that slow, lazy smile of satisfaction that had been on his face when he had finished making love to her. "Turn your head, sweetheart. I want to examine something." He used his thumb to guide her chin until he had her face angled so that he could study her eyes in the candlelight. Then he shook his head slowly. "It is just as I feared."
"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously.
"I told myself that once I had made love to you properly, you would lose some of that clear-eyed innocence but I was wrong. Your eyes are as clear and innocent as they were before I bedded you. It is going to be very difficult to protect you from Society's predators, my dear. I can see that I have only one option."
"What option is that, my lord?" Sophy asked demurely.
"I will have to spend more of my time by your side."
Julian yawned hugely. "From now on you must give me a list of your evening engagements. I will be accompanying you whenever possible."
"Really, my lord? Are you fond of the opera?"
"I detest the opera."
Sophy grinned. "That is, indeed, a pity. Your aunt, her friend Harriett, and I plan to go to King's Theatre tomorrow evening. Will you feel obliged to join us?"
"A man does what he must," Julian said nobly.
EIGHT
How on earth will Fanny and Harry find us in this crush?" Sophy anxiously surveyed the throng of carriages that filled the Haymarket near King's Theatre. "There must be over a thousand people here tonight."
"More like three thousand." Julian took her arm in a firm grip as he guided her into the fashionable theater. "But don't worry about Fanny and Harry. They'll have no trouble locating us."
"Why not?"
"Because the box they use is mine," Julian explained wryly as they made their way through the glittering crowd.
"Oh, I see. A convenient arrangement."
"Fanny has always thought so. It has saved her the cost of purchasing one of her own."
Sophy glanced at him. "You do not mind her using it, do you?"
Julian grinned. "No. She is one of the few members of the family I can tolerate for any length of time.
A few minutes later Julian escorted her into a plushly appointed box, well situated amid the five tiers of similar private boxes. Sophy sat down and gazed in fascination out over the great horseshoe auditorium. It was filled with bejeweled ladies and elegantly dressed men. Down in the pit, fops and dandies of all stripes were strolling about, showing off the extremes of fashion they favored. The sight of their ludicrously outrageous clothing made Sophy realize she took a secret pleasure in Julian's preference for subdued, conservatively cut garments.