"Do not tease me, Julian."
He caught her wrists and brought her hands to his chest. "I am not teasing you, sweetheart. I am just exceedingly grateful you are alive and unhurt. You will never know what it did to me tonight to arrive here and find that you were missing."
She refused to be comforted because she knew what lay ahead. "What will you do, Julian?"
"That depends. How long do you estimate Waycott will be asleep?"
Sophy frowned. "Another three or four hours, perhaps."
"Excellent. I will deal with him later, then." He began untying the ribbons of her dressing gown. "In the meantime I can spend some time reassuring myself that you are, indeed, unhurt."
Sophy looked up at him very earnestly as the gown fell away from her. "Julian, I must have your word of honor that you will not challenge Waycott."
"Do not worry about it, my dear." He kissed the curve of her throat.
"Your word, Julian. You will give it to me." There was nothing more she wanted at the moment than to be in Julian's arms but this was far more important. She stood stiff and unyielding, ignoring the warm, inviting touch of his mouth on her skin.
"Do not concern yourself with what happens to Waycott. I will deal with everything. He will never come near you again."
"Damn you, Julian, / will have your promise not to call him out. Your safety is far more important to me than your stupid, male sense of honor. I have told you what I think of dueling. It settles nothing and can easily get you killed into the bargain. You will not challenge Waycott, do you hear me? Give me your word, Julian."
He stopped kissing the hollow of her shoulder and slowly raised his head to look down at her. He was scowling for the first time. "I am not a bad shot, Sophy."
"I do not care how accurate your aim is, I will not have you take such a risk and that is final."
His brows rose slightly. "It is?"
"Yes, damn you. I will not take the chance of losing you in a silly duel with a man who will most likely cheat. I feel about this precisely the way you felt the morning you interrupted my appointment with Charlotte Featherstone. I will not stand for it."
"I do not believe I have ever heard you so adamant, my dear," Julian said dryly.
"Your word, Julian. Give it to me."
He sighed in capitulation. "Very well. If it means so much to you, you have my solemn vow not to challenge Waycott to a duel with pistols."
Sophy closed her eyes in overwhelming relief. "Thank you, Julian."
"Now may I be allowed to make love to my wife?"
She gave him a misty smile. "Yes, my lord."
Julian roused himself an hour later and propped himself on his elbow to look down into Sophy's worried eyes. The glow she always wore after his lovemaking was already wearing off to be replaced again by concern. It was rather reassuring to know that his safety meant so much to her.
"You will be careful, Julian?"
"Very careful."
"Perhaps you should take some of the stable lads with you."
"No, this is between Waycott and myself. I will handle this alone."
"But what will you do?" she demanded fretfully.
"Force him to leave the country. I believe I shall suggest that he emigrate to America."
"But how can you make him go?"
Julian leaned over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders. "Stop asking so many questions, my love. I do not have time to answer them now. I will give you a full accounting when I return. I swear it." He brushed his mouth against hers. "Get some rest."
"That is a ridiculous instruction. I will not be able to sleep a wink until you return."
"Then read a good book."
"Wollstonecraft," she threatened. "I shall study A Vindication on the Rights of Women until you return."
"That knowledge will indeed force me to hurry back to your side," Julian said, getting to his feet. "I cannot have you any more thoroughly corrupted by that nonsense about the rights of women than you already are."
She sat up and reached for his hand. "Julian, I am frightened."
"I know the feeling. I felt the same way when I arrived here this evening and found you missing." He gently freed his hand and began to dress. "But in this case, you need have no fear. You have my promise I will not propose a duel to Waycott, remember?"
"Yes, but—" She broke off, nibbling her lower lip in concern. "But I do not like this, Julian."
"It will all be over soon." He fastened his breeches and sat down in the chair to tug on his boots. "I will be home before dawn unless you have made Waycott so groggy with your special tea that he cannot understand simple English."
"I did not give him as much as I gave you," she said uneasily. "I was afraid he would notice the odd taste."
"How unfortunate. I would have preferred Waycott suffer the same appalling headache I was forced to endure."
"You had been drinking that night, Julian," she explained seriously. "It changed the effects of the herbs. Waycott had only the tea. He will awake fairly clearheaded."
"I will remember that." Julian finished putting on his boots. He strode to the door and paused to glance back at her. A surge of raw possessiveness went through him. It was followed by a shocking tenderness. She was everything to him, he realized. Nothing in the world was more important than his sweet Sophy.
"Did you forgot something, Julian?" she asked from the shadows of the bed.
"Only a minor detail," he said quietly. His hand fell away from the doorknob and he went back to the bed. He leaned down and kissed her soft mouth once more. "I love you."
He saw her eyes widen in astonishment but he knew he could not afford the time it would take to listen to her demands for details and explanations. He went back across the room and opened the door.
"Julian, wait—"
"I will be back as soon as possible, sweetheart. Then we will talk."
"No, wait, there is something else I must tell you. The emeralds."
"What about them?"
"I almost forgot. Waycott has them. He stole them the night he killed Elizabeth. They are in the basket on the hearth, right under his pistol."
"How very interesting. I must remember to bring them back with me," Julian said and went out into the hall.
The old Norman ruin was an eerie, uninviting jumble of stones and deep shadows in the moonlight. For the first time in years Julian experienced the same response to it that he had often had as a boy—it was a place where one could easily learn to believe in ghosts. The thought of Sophy being held captive within the dark confines of this place added fuel to the white hot fires of his anger.
He had managed to keep Sophy from seeing the depths of his fury because he had known it would alarm her. But it had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep his rage from showing.
One thing was certain: Waycott would pay for what he had tried to do to Sophy.
There was no sign of activity around the ruin as far as Julian could see. He walked the black into the nearest stand of trees, dismounted and draped the reins around a convenient limb. Then he made his way through the fragments of the ancient stone walls to the one room that was still standing. There was no glow of light from the narrow openings high up on the wall. The fire Sophy had said was burning on the hearth must have sunk into embers by now.
Julian had great faith in Sophy's skill with herbs but he decided not to take chances. He entered the chamber where she had been held with great caution. Nothing and no one stirred from within. He stood in the open doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. And then he spotted Waycott's sprawled body near the wall by the hearth.
Sophy was right. Things would be a great deal simpler if someone put a pistol to the Viscount's head and pulled the trigger. But there were some things a gentleman did not do. Julian shook his head in resignation and went over to the hearth to stoke up the fire.