as far as Sophy was concerned was the subtle, but
deliberate, pressure Julian was applying in the evenings. It was beginning to
make her quite nervous.
It was obvious Julian did not intend to stay out of her bed for the next three
months. He fully expected to be able to seduce her long before the stipulated
time had passed.
Until the point when she had begun to notice his growing fondness for port after
dinner, Sophy had been fairly certain she could handle the situation. The trick
was to control her own responses to his increasingly intimate good-night kisses.
If she could manage that she was quite convinced Julian would honor the letter,
if not the spirit of his word. She sensed instinctively his pride would not
allow him to sink to the level of using force to gain access to her bed.
But the increasing consumption of port worried her. It added a new and dangerous
element to an already tense situation. She remembered all too well the night her
sister Amelia had returned from one of her secret assignations and tearfully
explained that a gentleman in his cups was capable of violent language and
bestial behavior. Amelia's soft white arms had been marked with bruises that
night. Sophy had been furious and demanded once more to know the name of
Amelia's lover. Amelia had again refused to say.
"Have you told this fine lover of yours that Dorrings have been Ravenwood
neighbors for generations? If Grandfather finds out what is happening, he will
go straight to Lord Ravenwood and see that a stop is put to this nonsense!'
Amelia sniffed back more tears. I have made certain my dear love does not know
who my grandfather is for that very reason. Oh, Sophy, don't you understand? I
am afraid that if my sweet love discovers I am a Dorring and thus a
granddaughter of such a close neighbor of Ravenwood, he will not take the chance
of meeting me again."
"You would let your lover abuse you rather than tell him who you are?" Sophy had
asked incredulously.
"You do not know what it is to love," Amelia had whispered and then she had
sobbed herself to sleep.
Amelia had been wrong, Sophy knew. She did know what it was to love but she was
trying to deal with the dangers of the emotion in a more intelligent manner than
her poor sister had done. She would not make Amelia's mistakes.
Sophy silently endured the growing anxiety over the matter of Julian's port
consumption for several tense evenings before she broached the subject of his
heavy drinking.
"Do you have trouble sleeping, my lord?" she finally inquired during the second
week of her marriage. They were seated before the fire in the crimson drawing
room. Julian had just helped himself to another large glass of port.
He regarded her with hooded eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"Forgive me, but I cannot help but notice that your taste for port is increasing
in the evenings. People frequently use sherry or port or claret to aid them in
getting to sleep. Are you accustomed to imbibing so much at night?"
He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and considered her for a long
moment. "No," he finally said and drank half of his port in one gulp. "It
disturbs you?"
Sophy focused her attention on her embroidery. "If you are having trouble
sleeping there are more efficacious remedies. Bess taught me many of them."
"Are you proposing to dose me with laudanum?"
"No. Laudanum is effective but I would not resort to it as a remedy for poor
sleep unless other tonics had failed. If you like I can prepare a mixture of
herbs for you to try. I brought my medicine chest with me."
"Thank you, Sophy. I believe I shall continue to rely on my port. I understand
it and it understands me."
Sophy's brows rose inquiringly. "What is there to understand, my lord?"
"Do you wish me to be blunt, Madam Wife?"
"Of course." She was surprised at such a question. "You know I prefer free and
open conversation between us. You are the one who occasionally experiences
difficulty in
deliberate, pressure Julian was applying in the evenings. It was beginning to
make her quite nervous.
It was obvious Julian did not intend to stay out of her bed for the next three
months. He fully expected to be able to seduce her long before the stipulated
time had passed.
Until the point when she had begun to notice his growing fondness for port after
dinner, Sophy had been fairly certain she could handle the situation. The trick
was to control her own responses to his increasingly intimate good-night kisses.
If she could manage that she was quite convinced Julian would honor the letter,
if not the spirit of his word. She sensed instinctively his pride would not
allow him to sink to the level of using force to gain access to her bed.
But the increasing consumption of port worried her. It added a new and dangerous
element to an already tense situation. She remembered all too well the night her
sister Amelia had returned from one of her secret assignations and tearfully
explained that a gentleman in his cups was capable of violent language and
bestial behavior. Amelia's soft white arms had been marked with bruises that
night. Sophy had been furious and demanded once more to know the name of
Amelia's lover. Amelia had again refused to say.
"Have you told this fine lover of yours that Dorrings have been Ravenwood
neighbors for generations? If Grandfather finds out what is happening, he will
go straight to Lord Ravenwood and see that a stop is put to this nonsense!'
Amelia sniffed back more tears. I have made certain my dear love does not know
who my grandfather is for that very reason. Oh, Sophy, don't you understand? I
am afraid that if my sweet love discovers I am a Dorring and thus a
granddaughter of such a close neighbor of Ravenwood, he will not take the chance
of meeting me again."
"You would let your lover abuse you rather than tell him who you are?" Sophy had
asked incredulously.
"You do not know what it is to love," Amelia had whispered and then she had
sobbed herself to sleep.
Amelia had been wrong, Sophy knew. She did know what it was to love but she was
trying to deal with the dangers of the emotion in a more intelligent manner than
her poor sister had done. She would not make Amelia's mistakes.
Sophy silently endured the growing anxiety over the matter of Julian's port
consumption for several tense evenings before she broached the subject of his
heavy drinking.
"Do you have trouble sleeping, my lord?" she finally inquired during the second
week of her marriage. They were seated before the fire in the crimson drawing
room. Julian had just helped himself to another large glass of port.
He regarded her with hooded eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"Forgive me, but I cannot help but notice that your taste for port is increasing
in the evenings. People frequently use sherry or port or claret to aid them in
getting to sleep. Are you accustomed to imbibing so much at night?"
He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and considered her for a long
moment. "No," he finally said and drank half of his port in one gulp. "It
disturbs you?"
Sophy focused her attention on her embroidery. "If you are having trouble
sleeping there are more efficacious remedies. Bess taught me many of them."
"Are you proposing to dose me with laudanum?"
"No. Laudanum is effective but I would not resort to it as a remedy for poor
sleep unless other tonics had failed. If you like I can prepare a mixture of
herbs for you to try. I brought my medicine chest with me."
"Thank you, Sophy. I believe I shall continue to rely on my port. I understand
it and it understands me."
Sophy's brows rose inquiringly. "What is there to understand, my lord?"
"Do you wish me to be blunt, Madam Wife?"
"Of course." She was surprised at such a question. "You know I prefer free and
open conversation between us. You are the one who occasionally experiences
difficulty in
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