Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (27 page)

Letitia glared at him, her slender form practically shaking with rage. "I will keep my promise."

Julian felt little victory. "Good. Lord Rutherford sent flowers this morning and a note." He plucked the still-sealed missive off his desk and held it out to her. "Perhaps you would like to start with him."

His sister came close enough to snatch the paper out of his hand. "I have never despised you as much as I do at this moment."

He winced. Did she think he was made of stone? "I know, but someday I hope to see you so happily situated that all of your anger will have been worth it."

She didn't seem to like that response at all. In fact, she snorted in disgust at it and whirled around to stomp out of the room.

Her exit would have been much more dramatic had she not almost knocked over Sophia on her way out.

His wife turned to him with a puzzled expression. "Whatever is the matter with her?"

Rising to his feet, Julian rounded the desk to meet her near the sofa. "My sister makes it a point to hate me at least one day a week. Today is the day."

She smiled at his humor, but her gaze was earnest. "Is everything all right between the two of you?"

With a sigh, he steered her toward the sofa and gestured for her to sit. He seated himself beside her.

"It will be. Letitia was trying to renege on her promise to spend time with the gentlemen I've chosen as potential husbands for her."

Sophia's brow knitted. "Julian, you do not plan to force her, do you?"

"To marry? No." At her nod he didn't bother to mention that he would do whatever necessary to get Letitia to at least
meet
some of the young men. "But I want her to marry well."

His wife's frown deepened. "What of love? Surely you want her to marry for that as well?"

Taking one of her hands in his, Julian raised it to his lips. "It is possible to enter a marriage without love and still be content, is it not?"

He chuckled as she colored softly. "It is different for us. We are both practical, logical people. Letitia is a romantic."

"You were once a romantic," he reminded her. "I believe that I am one still, in my heart."

She flushed darker. "You know what I mean."

"No, I am afraid I do not." Perhaps he did understand on some level, but he didn't want to spend the rest of their lives together as nothing more than friends making love. He wanted Sophia to love him. He wanted to love her.

Good Lord. When had this come about?

When she didn't respond, her consternation evident, Julian asked, "Do you think you might come to love me one day, Sophia?"

She went as still as a deer who knows the hunter is nearby. "I do not know."

It was better than
no
. "What if I said I had every intention of making you love me?"
And loving you in return
.

Her entire body jerked. Her emotional withdrawal was as obvious as the pounding of the pulse in her throat. He held tight to her hand, preventing her from withdrawing physically as well.

This was not the reaction he had hoped for, but it didn't surprise him, either. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so blunt about his intentions, but he had been raised by parents who loved each other, and since marrying Sophia he had decided that nothing less would do for his own marriage. It was all right if Sophia didn't love him now. She would one day. He would make certain of it.

"I am not sure I know how to love."

He pulled a face. "Nonsense."

Her gaze was shadowed as it met his. "Nor do I think I am the kind of woman with whom gentlemen fall in love."

Her voice, so low and hesitant, pierced his heart with its stark vulnerability. "Why do you say that?"

She looked down at her feet. Following her gaze, Julian saw that she was curling her toes inside her dainty green slippers.

"Because no one has ever told me they loved me. Not my parents— although now I believe that my mother does— not Edmund, certainly not Charles." She looked up, accusation and pain in her eyes. "Not you."

Like a well-timed blow, her remark hit him square in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs.

"That was then," he murmured, finding it hard to speak. "I want more than that now."

She watched him, her gaze searching his face as though looking for some sign of falsehood.

"So do I."

Julian hadn't even been aware of holding his breath until it all came rushing out. He didn't know what to say, didn't know if anything needed to be said.

They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. It was as though there were still so many things they both wanted to say and neither knew how to say them.

"I have something for you," she said finally, holding out her other hand. There was a small wrapped box in it.

She had bought him a gift. When was the last time anyone had bought him a gift?

"Thank you." He took it from her. "What is the occasion?"

Sophia shrugged. "No reason. I just thought you might like it."

Feeling somewhat like a child, he released his hold on her hand and tore off the ribbon securing the wrapping. The paper fell free, revealing a polished rosewood box. He lifted the lid. Inside was a gold and ruby cravat pin and a pocket watch.

No one had ever bought him jewelry before. They seemed such personal items— fitting gifts for a wife to give a husband.

"They are lovely." He kissed her. "Thank you."

"You have done so much for me I wanted to give you something in return."

His good mood lessened. "I do not want you to give me gifts because you feel indebted to me, Sophia."

Her hands came up to cup his face, preventing him from pulling away. "I know." Her eyes sparkled with humor. "You really should not be so quick to jump to conclusions, Julian. I bought you presents because I wanted to buy you presents. That is all."

She let go of his face and he nodded. He was such an idiot at times. "Forgive me."

Sophia smiled.

"I have to tell you something," she said after a moment's silence. "Something that happened while I was out with Lilith."

There was a hesitancy in her voice, almost as though she was afraid of his reaction to what she was about to tell him. It both worried and pleased him. Worried him because she was so obviously distressed. Pleased him because she trusted him enough to share it.

"What is it?" He kept his tone carefully neutral.

She held his gaze regardless of her obvious discomfort. "I ran into Charles."

Just the sound of the marquess's name was enough to kindle his anger. He didn't give a damn if the man was a marquess, if he so much as breathed on Sophia, Julian would demand satisfaction for it.

"What did he say to you?"

He listened, rage bubbling inside him as Sophia recounted the details of her run-in with her former brother-in-law. Julian suspected she left some details out to keep him from getting too angry. She needn't have bothered. He didn't think he could possibly want to kill Aberley any more than he already did.

"Promise me you will not confront him." Her tone was anxious.

"You ask too much. I cannot make such a promise."

"Julian." She caught him by the arm as he started to stand and pulled him back down beside her. "I do not want to give the gossips more to titter about. Neither should you, if you truly wish to see Letitia receive a suitable offer of marriage."

She was right, of course. Julian was learning that she often
was
, damn her. The scandal surrounding their marriage wasn't huge, but it still had yet to die down. People still whispered about them at parties, still made thinly veiled comments about
An Unfortunate Attachment
to them both. Most of society treated it as a joke at worst, a charming tale of reunited lovers at best. But if word got around that Julian went looking for a fight with the Marquess of Aberley, and that it was over Sophia…

"All right," he grumbled. "I won't confront him, but if he comes to me I will make him sorry for it."

A coy smile curved her lips. "My protector."

Picking up on her change of mood, the subtle shift in her body language, Julian grinned. "Do you like it?" He leaned closer, turning his body so that he pinned her against the sofa.

She moved to accommodate him. "Very much."

He cupped her breast in his hand. "Does it excite you?"

Sophia nodded, gasping as his thumb brushed the hardened peak of her breast through the material of her gown. Her body reacted so wonderfully to his touch.

"Is the door locked?" she asked, winding her arms around his neck.

He drew back. She barely touched him, and already he was half erect. "No, but it could be. What did you have in mind?"

Smiling softly, she flicked her tongue across his lips. "I think I have thought of a way for you to thank me for your gift."

Julian chuckled as he stood. Quickly, he crossed the carpet and turned the key in the door. Then he returned to his beautiful wife, who was already starting to struggle out of her clothes.

Oh yes. He was a very
thankful
man indeed.

Sophia opened her eyes as the clock in the downstairs hall struck three. Beside her, Julian snored softly, his features bathed in silvery moonlight. Sophia smiled. For a man who claimed not to snore he was certainly very good at it.

But Julian's snoring was not the reason for her restlessness. Their earlier conversation was.

What was all this nonsense about wanting her to love him and wanting to love her in return? He didn't mean it, did he? Love was the last thing she would ever expect him to want from her.

When he told her he wanted her love, it was all she could do to keep her mouth shut.

She had already fallen— or at least stumbled.

How or when it had happened she had no idea. There hadn't been enough time, but she knew with frightening clarity that it was true. She couldn't— wouldn't— tell him until she was certain of his feelings for her. She was not about to give him that kind of power over her. Oh, she knew their marriage shouldn't be about power, but it didn't matter how much they had both changed. The fact remained that she had told Julian she loved him once before and the feeling hadn't been returned. The next time she told him she would be certain of his feelings first.

After her run-in with Charles earlier, all she had wanted to do was run home to the safety of Julian's arms. When she asked him not to confront Charles, it wasn't because of Letitia's reputation as she claimed, but rather because she couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to Julian because of her. She had purposefully left out or altered many of the things Charles had said to her as well. Julian would have been even angrier had she told him the truth.

That was three times in one evening that she had lied to him. How could she ever expect to earn his trust when she did not even try?

Perhaps it wasn't so completely wrong to lie to someone to protect them, or to be honest, protect oneself. It was petty of her, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

But these pointless thoughts were not the only reason she could not sleep. Other questions plagued her, such as whether or not she should betray Letitia's trust and tell her brother about her attachment to Marcus Wesley. Letitia would never forgive her if she did. Julian might not forgive her if she didn't. Which would be worse?

She was not married to Letitia. She wasn't
stumbling
into love with Letitia, but neither was she prepared to expose her friend in such a manner. She would have to talk to Letitia and tell her what a difficult position she had put her in and beg her to confide in her brother.

In the meantime she could not lie here worrying about things any longer. Silently, she crept out of bed and slipped into the plum velvet robe she had dropped to the floor at Julian's request earlier that evening. A glass of wine would calm her mind.

Julian didn't stir as she left the room. Drawing the door shut behind her, she tiptoed down the corridor to the stairs and picked her way down in the dark.

She didn't see the person at the foot of the stairs until it was too late. A sharp gasp issued forth from the stranger's throat as Sophia stifled a scream.

"Sophia?"

It was Letitia. Even if Sophia hadn't been able to tell by the voice, now that her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the hall, she could make out her sister-in-law's shadowy form.

And that she was wearing evening clothes.

"Have you been out?" Surely she hadn't been. Hadn't she pled a headache shortly after dinner and retired to her room? She had told Julian she was going to bed and would see them both in the morning.

The guilt-ridden silence that followed her inquiry was answer enough.

Catching the younger woman by the arm, Sophia steered her away from the stairs, where someone else might stumble upon, or worse, overhear them. She guided Letitia out into the great hall, so she could better see her face.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, struggling to keep her voice low.

Letitia's expression was sullen. "Why, so you can tell Julian?"

Sophia scowled at the taller woman. "It would serve you right if I did. Honestly, Letitia, this is hardly the behavior of a full-grown lady."

Letitia sucked in her cheeks. "I do not think you are the appropriate person to lecture me on propriety, Sophia."

The remark should have stung, especially since it was delivered with such venom, but it only made Sophia angrier.

"On the contrary. I am the perfect person to lecture you, for I know the consequences of behaving impulsively and stupidly. Do you want to end up as I did?"

Letitia's expression was still sulky. "You do not seem to mind being married to my brother."

Heat pulsed in Sophia's blood. "Of course I do not, but I was once married to a man whom I allowed to treat me badly because I was so terrified he'd leave me if I did not. All because I had behaved inappropriately. Is that what you want?"

Letitia's mouth dropped open, and for a moment her petulant facade disappeared, only to return again seconds later. "That will never happen to me. Marcus would never treat me in such a way. He is going to marry me."