Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (26 page)

"Excellent." Lilith's voice cut through her thoughts. "And how are things between the two of you? Good?"

The suggestive, hopeful rise to her friend's voice brought a blush to Sophia's cheeks. "Very good."

The stunning redhead squeezed her arm. "Wonderful! Oh, Sophie, I am so very happy for you."

"I am happy too." And she was. These past few days as Julian's wife were the happiest of her life.

"I knew it would all work out." Lilith smiled smugly. "I told Gabriel and Brave it would all work out."

Her brow creasing, Sophia stopped to admire a bolt of garnet velvet. She really couldn't blame Julian's friends for their concern. The three of them were all very solicitous of one another, like family— or rather, like family
ought
to be. Sophia could not remember the last time someone had treated her in such a manner. Only Julian when he told his staff not to allow Charles in the house.

"You should have a ball gown made out of that."

Lilith's voice pulled Sophia from her thoughts. She glanced at the deep red velvet beneath her hand. It was a gorgeous color. Julian would like it.

"I think I will." What a wonderful feeling to see a bolt of fabric and know that she could have it. Not since Edmund's death had she been able to enjoy such extravagance.

Lilith grinned. "I have to shop while I can. Pretty soon nothing will fit me."

The joy on the other woman's face made it obvious that she wasn't complaining.

"Then, by all means, shop. It has been so long since I've had new gowns, I certainly have no problem indulging you."

They spent the next two hours in the shop, picking out fabric and designs for gowns, pelisses and lingerie.

"Is there anywhere else you would like to go?" Lilith asked as they exited the shop. "The milliner's perhaps? Or the glove maker's?"

Oh, a new hat would be divine. Sophia couldn't believe how much she was enjoying buying a new wardrobe. Certainly Julian had paid for her to have some new clothes upon her arrival in London— Letitia had insisted— but she hadn't felt right spending his money. Now, knowing that he liked to see her in pretty things, and wanting to look pretty for him, she had a hard time controlling the urge to spend a fortune on clothing.

She wanted to please him, but not like she had once wanted to please Edmund. She had wanted Edmund's approval and acceptance. All she wanted from Julian was his smile and…his heart.

"Let us save that for another day," she suggested. "I would like to find a gift for Julian now, if you do not mind. Do you know of any gentlemen's shops?"

"There is one just down the street. Let us walk there." Turning to her maid, Lilith said something in rapid Italian. When she had finished, the maid scurried off to do her bidding.

"The carriage will follow us down," Lilith explained, opening her parasol. "Shall we?"

Sophia opened her parasol as well, the dainty green umbrella shielding her face from the warm afternoon sun. Despite her pale complexion, her mother's blood ran strong in her veins and the slightest exposure to the sun often resulted in her skin turning a deep gold. From a very young age she had it drilled into her head not to allow the sun to touch her, and to this day she tried to make certain it did not.

The shop Lilith picked was remarkable. There were snuff boxes and cravat pins, rings, watches and hundreds of other little vanity and personal items for the discerning gentleman, but none of it grabbed her attention. There were any number of things that Julian might enjoy, but nothing that struck her as special.

In the end she chose a ruby cravat pin and a shiny silver pocket watch, which she planned to have engraved. They would do until she found something more personal.

"Hello, Sophia."

Sophia froze over the tray of watches, the one she had chosen for Julian still clutched in her palm. Lifting her chin in blatant defiance, she turned to face her former brother-in-law.

"Charles." If the temperature were any lower, her words would have had ice on them.

The Marquess of Aberley smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were as cold and pale as they ever were. They drifted over Sophia from head to toe, lingering on her breasts in a most insolent manner before finally lifting to her face again.

His tone was even more insulting than his gaze. "What brings the
Countess
Wolfram to a gentlemen's shop?"

Schooling her features into a cool mask, Sophia replied, "I would think that obvious. I am buying a gift for my
husband
, the earl."

Charles's handsome features tightened. He didn't mind reminding her of her lowered social status— something that hardly mattered to her— but he didn't like to be reminded that she had chosen marriage to Julian over being his mistress.

"Ah, yes." That insultingly charming tone was back in his voice. "And where is Wolfram? Do not tell me he trusts you out of his sight."

Sophia turned to the curious clerk who stood just a few feet away watching them. "Could you wrap these for me, please? I would like to take them."

Once the clerk had relieved her of her purchases, she turned her attention back to Charles. "One of the many things I adore about my husband, Charles, is that he does not treat me as a possession. Something I doubt you would understand."

A dark flush crept up Charles's chiseled cheeks. "I am surprised it took you this long to spread your legs for him."

"Careful, Charles," Sophia warned, grateful that no one seemed to have heard his insult. "You do not want to cause a scene, do you? You would not want to do anything to humiliate or bring scandal down upon yourself, would you?"

The marquéss's gaze was glacial. "You are nothing but a common whore. My brother knew it, I know it and someday your precious Wolfram will know it."

Sophia's blood ran cold even as her skin flushed with anger. "If I am a whore, Charles, it was your brother who made me one the day he bought my innocence from my parents. His whore I might have been. Julian's I might be as well, but one thing is for certain, Charles, I will never be yours."

Darkness flickered over his face, contorted his features into a sinister mask. And suddenly, Sophia understood everything.

"I was the one thing of your brother's that you wanted and did not get when he died. I am the one thing of Edmund's you were not able to have." She shook her head. "That is pathetic, Charles. Truly pathetic."

He didn't say anything. He just stood there, his barrel chest heaving, his face dark with rage, and Sophia knew without question that if they were alone he would have hit her by now.

"As much as I sometimes despised your brother," she said, twisting the knife a little deeper despite the warnings of her brain. "I never pitied him as I do you, Charles."

His nostrils flaring, Charles whipped his hand into the air, but he didn't hit her— not just because he suddenly remembered himself, but because suddenly Lilith was there, looking for all the world as though she'd like to plant Charles a facer herself.

"Lilith," Sophia said, never taking her gaze from the marquess. "It is time for us to go."

As if on cue, the clerk returned with her packages. Anxious to leave the shop, Sophia asked him to start an account for her and slipped the small bundles into her reticule.

Charles grabbed her as she turned to leave, his fingers biting painfully into the bones of her wrist. Sophia gasped. She couldn't help it. It hurt so badly it brought tears to her eyes.

"You will pay for this," he whispered harshly against her ear, smiling so as not to alarm the other customers. "Do you hear me? I will make you sorry you ever crossed me."

Sophia met his gaze evenly, praying that he couldn't see how much he scared her. She smiled as well; it was perhaps a tad more sincere than Charles's. "You cannot do anything to me, Charles, and you know it. Now let go of me before I start screaming and really give these people something to talk about."

When he did not release her immediately, she added, "I have never cared much for my own reputation, Charles. I certainly would not hesitate to damage yours as well."

He hesitated a fraction of a second before releasing her. "We are not finished."

Sophia smiled coldly. "My dear Lord Aberley, you and I never even started."

With that parting shot, Sophia turned to Lilith, and gladly taking the arm her friend offered, left the shop with as much hauteur as her trembling limbs would allow.

J
ulian left word that he was not to be disturbed that afternoon as he entered his study, so when his sister came sashaying in twenty minutes later, he was somewhat perturbed— until he saw the look on her face.

"What is it, pet?"

Letitia closed the door. "I need to talk to you— if you are not too busy."

He put aside the correspondence from his Yorkshire steward and leaned back in his chair. "I am never too busy for you. You know that."

Smoothing the skirts of her pale green gown, Letitia sank into one of the armchairs, folding her hands primly in her lap.

"What is it you want to talk about?"

She was silent for a moment, as though collecting her thoughts. Finally, she raised her head.

"I do not wish to marry any of the gentlemen you have suggested."

He would have been more surprised if his difficult sibling had announced she
did
want to marry. "How would you know? You have not made any effort to become acquainted with any of them."

Her expression was mulish. "I do not wish to become acquainted with any of them."

No, of course she didn't. Heaven forfend she might actually
like
one of the young men he had chosen.

"Lettie, you promised me when I agreed to bring Sophia here that you would at least give the young men a chance."

"I have," his sister replied peevishly. "They are boring."

Julian sighed. "You haven't spent more than an hour or two in the company of any of them."

Jaw set, Letitia shrugged. "Long enough to know I would expire of boredom before the honeymoon was over."

Julian raised his brows at that, wondering just how much Letitia knew about what happened between men and women. He had tried to explain it to her once, years ago, but when it came to discussing such issues with either of his sisters he never felt as though he had done a proper job of it.

Or perhaps in Miranda's case he had done too good a job.

"You would rather marry someone exciting and unpredictable, is that it?" From the look on her face he knew that was exactly what she wanted. Something akin to panic rose up from deep within him. "I will not allow you to be taken in as Miranda was."

His sister's eyes flashed with indignation. "I am
not
Miranda."

Julian's eyes widened at her vehemence. "I know that, but you are still a naive young woman. You would be surprised how agreeable some young men will make themselves to get their hands on a dowry the size of yours."

She scowled. "You make it sound as though it would be impossible for a gentleman to love me for myself."

"Of course not," he chided. "Any young man would be lucky to have you fall in love with him. Just take care that you fall in love with someone suitable."

She was downright haughty now. "And which one of us decides who is and is not suitable?"

She already knew the answer to that. He knew it too. "I do."

"That is not fair!" she cried, jumping up from her chair and slapping her palms down on the top of the desk. "It is my life, my future. It is my choice!"

"No," he informed her in a quiet tone. "As your guardian, it is mine."

Letitia's mouth opened but nothing came out. Despite the remorse burning in the pit of his stomach, Julian held her gaze, giving away nothing of the turmoil inside him. He wanted to see her happy, but he knew how easy it was for young men to prey on romantic, spirited, naive women like Letitia. He had done it himself once upon a time.

Tears welled in her eyes, wringing his heart even further. "You said you would not force me to marry a man I did not love."

"I would not force you to marry even if I could, which we both know I cannot."

She straightened, some of the self-assurance slipping back into her demeanor. "Good. Then we are agreed."

"Not quite," he replied as she turned to leave.

Halfway across the carpet she froze and faced him. "What do you mean?"

Steepling his fingers, Julian regarded her coolly over the tips. His sister expected him to give in to her demands too often. It had been one thing when she was a child, but it was an entirely different matter now that she was grown.

"I will not force you to marry, but I have every intention of making certain you keep your promise to me and start spending time with the young men I have selected."

"You cannot," she informed him with more bravado than she had a right to. "There is nothing you can do to make me."

His remorse was quickly giving way to anger. Where had he gone wrong? Were all young women this difficult, or had he made a colossal mess out of his sister's upbringing?

"How about no more credit at the dressmaker's?"

Her face fell a bit, but she still gazed at him like a queen upon a serf. "I have enough gowns to do me the entire season as it is."

"True," he allowed. "But what good will they do you when you have nowhere to go?"

That got a reaction out of her. She looked utterly shocked. "You would forbid me to go out?"

Julian lowered his hands. "Every invitation that arrives at this house is delivered to me. I allow you to open them because you are my sister, but if you will not do as I ask, then I will ensure that you do not see any of them and give the hostess your regrets for any I choose to accept."

Her face was devoid of color. "I cannot believe you would do that to me."

Julian refused to be swayed. "Yet you would go back on your promise to me. Now, are you going to act your age and give some of these gentlemen a chance to court you, or are you going to make things difficult?"