A knock on the door interrupted Mary's detailed account of the afternoon's events. She went to answer it and found a maid with a tea tray. "Here, I'll take that. Run along now. Her ladyship needs rest." Mary closed the door again and set the tray down on a table. "Oh, look, Cook put some cakes on the tray for you. Have one with your tea, ma'am. It'll give you some strength."
Sophy looked at the teapot and immediately felt slightly queasy. "Thank you, Mary. I'll have the tea in a bit. I am not very hungry at the moment."
"It's the blow on the head that does it," Mary said knowledgeably. "Affects the stomach, it does. But you really should have a cup of tea, at the least, ma'am.
The door opened again and Julian walked into the room without bothering to knock. He was still wearing his riding clothes and he had obviously overheard the maid's last comment. "Run along, Mary. I'll see that she drinks her tea."
Startled by his arrival, Mary dropped a quick curtsy and backed nervously toward the door. "Yes, my lord," she said as she put her hand on the doorknob. She started to leave the room and then paused to say with a small touch of defiance. "We was all very worried about madam."
"I know you were, Mary. But she is home safe and sound now and I think you will all take much better care of her in the future, will you not?"
"Oh, yes, my lord. Won't let her out of our sight."
"Excellent. You may go now, Mary."
Mary fled.
Sophy tightened her fingers in her lap as the door closed behind her maid. "You need not terrorize the staff, Julian. They all mean well and what happened this afternoon was certainly not their fault. I—" She cleared her throat. "I've ridden that path dozens of times during the past few years. There was no reason for me to have a groom along. This is the country, not the city."
"But they did not find your poor, unconscious body lying along the path that leads to Old Bess's cottage, did they?" Julian lowered himself into a chair near the window and glanced around the room. "I see you have made several changes in here and elsewhere, my dear."
The rapid change of subject was disconcerting. "I hope you don't mind, my lord, " Sophy said in a stifled voice. She had a terrible premonition that he had decided on a strategy of toying with her until her nerve broke and she confessed everything.
"No, Sophy. I do not mind in the least. I have not liked this house for some time." Julian's gaze slid back to her anxious face. "Any changes in Ravenwood Abbey will be most welcome, I assure you. How are you feeling?"
"Very well, thank you." The words seemed to stick in her throat.
"I am relieved to hear it." He stretched out his booted feet and lounged back in the chair, his big hands steepled loosely in front of him. "You had us all quite worried, you know."
"I am sorry for that." Sophy took a breath and struggled to recall the small, carefully plotted details of her tale. Her theory was that if she propped up her sagging story with a large number of specifics, she might still salvage it. "I think it was a small animal that startled my mare. A squirrel, perhaps. Normally there would have been no problem. As you know, I am a reasonably skilled rider."
"I have often admired your riding skills," Julian agreed blandly.
Sophy felt herself flushing. "Yes, well, as it happened, I had just been returning from Old Bess's and I had purchased a large quantity of herbs from her and I had the packets arranged in my skirts. I was busy adjusting them, the packets, that is, as we went along because I was afraid some of the herbs might slip out enroute, you see."
"I see."
Sophy stared at him for a few seconds, feeling mesmerized by the steady, waiting expression in his eyes. He appeared so serene and patient but she knew it was a hunter's patience she saw in him. The knowledge rattled her. "And… and I am afraid my attention was not on my riding as it should have been. I was fumbling with a packet of…of dried rhubarb, I believe it was, when the mare shied. I never quite got my balance after that."
"That was the point at which you fell to the ground and struck your head?"
They had not found her lying unconscious along the path, Sophy reminded herself. "Not quite, my lord. I started to slip from the saddle at that point but, uh, I believe the mare carried me for some distance into the woods before I finally lost my seat altogether."
"Would it make this any easier for you if I told you I have just now returned from a ride along the path to Old Bess's cottage?"
Sophy eyed him uneasily. "You have, my lord?"
"Yes, Sophy," he said very gently. "I have. I took a torch with me and in 'he vicinity of the pond I discovered some rather interesting tracks. There appears to have been another horse and rider on that same path today."
Sophy leaped to her feet. "Oh, Julian, pray do not ask me any more questions tonight. I cannot talk right now. I am far too distraught. I was wrong when I said I felt well. The truth is I feel absolutely wretched."
"But not, I think, because of a blow on the head." Julian's voice was even softer and more reassuring than it had been a moment ago. "Perhaps you are making yourself ill with worry, my dear. You have my word that there is no necessity to do that."
Sophy did not understand or trust the tenderness she heard in his words. "I do not take your meaning, my lord."
"Why don't you come over here and sit with me for a moment while you calm yourself." He held out his hand.
Sophy glanced longingly at the offered hand and then at his face. She steeled herself against the lure he was offering. She must be strong. "There… there is no room on the chair for me, Julian."
"I will make room. Come here, Sophy. The situation is not nearly so bleak nor as complicated as you appear to think."
She told herself it would be a major error to go to him.
She would lose whatever strength of will she possessed if she allowed him to cosset her just now. But she ached to feel his arms around her again and in the end his outstretched hand was too much to resist in her tired, weakened condition.
"I should probably lie down for a while," she said as she took a step toward Julian.
"You will rest soon, little one, I promise you."
He continued to wait with that subtle air of limitless patience as she took a second and then a third step toward him.
"Julian, I should not do this," she breathed softly as his fingers closed over her hand, engulfing it.
"I am your husband, sweetheart." He tugged her down onto his lap and cradled her against his shoulder. "Who else can you talk to about what really happened today, if not me?"
At that she lost most of what was left of her fortitude. She had been through too much today. The kidnapping, the threat of rape, her narrow escape, the moment when she had held the pocket pistol in her hand and found herself unable to shoot Waycott—all conspired to weaken her.
If Julian had shouted at her or if he had been cold with rage, she might have been able to resist, but his soothing, tender tone was irresistible. She turned her face into the hollow of his shoulder and closed her eyes. His arms tightened comfortingly around her and his broad shoulders promised protection as nothing else could.
"Julian, I love you," she said into his shirt.
"I know, sweetheart. I know. So you will tell me the truth now, hm?"
"I cannot do that," she said starkly.
He did not argue the point. He just sat there stroking the curve of her back with his big, strong hands. There was silence in the room until Sophy, succumbing to the temptation once more, began to relax against him.