Kathryn Smith - [Friends 03] (28 page)

Sophia arched a brow. "Has he proposed?"

Letitia frowned. "Not officially, no. But we have talked about it."

"About marriage?"

Her chin came up defiantly. "About our future."

"You had better make certain, do you not think? A young man might talk as though he will marry you, but he may say whatever necessary to get what he wants. And you will give it to him, because you believe he is going to give you what you want."

Letitia snorted. She had to know Sophia was talking from firsthand experience. "I have a hard time imagining my perfect brother behaving in such a way."

Smiling coolly, Sophia moved in for the kill. "Then try to imagine how a lesser man— a man with less to lose— would behave."

All the haughtiness drained from Letitia's face, leaving only anger and resentment. "Marcus is not a lesser man."

"Then why has he not been to see your brother? Why does he never call on you?"

Thin arms folded across Letitia's chest. "Because he knows Julian is against him and he is waiting to hear about a business venture that might make him more financially suitable in Julian's eyes."

Sophia sincerely hoped that was the truth and that Mr. Wesley wasn't acting a part to her friend.

"In the meantime you sneak out to see him, risking your very reputation in the process."

If Letitia lifted that pointy chin of hers any higher Sophia wouldn't be able to see anything of her face but her nostrils.

"Being with him is worth any risk."

Sophia tried to ignore the warning bells clanging in her head.

"Letitia, promise me you will not do anything foolish— at least not before Mr. Wesley makes his intentions known."

Letitia stared at her, and even though it was too dark to see the expression in her eyes, Sophia knew it wasn't favorable.

"There was a time when you would not have asked me such a question," her sister-in-law countered. "You used to trust me."

Sophia offered the only reply she could, "Love makes a person do things they would not normally do."

"Is that why you are so concerned? Or is it because you are becoming like my brother?"

Sophia was all astonishment. "Like your brother?"

Letitia shifted her weight to one leg, thrusting her hip out in a most belligerent manner. "Yes. You are even beginning to sound like him, treating me as though I were a child, unable to tell when someone is lying to me."

Perhaps this wouldn't be a good time to inform Letitia that if she felt like a child it was because she was acting like one. "I did not say that. I just want you to be careful."

"You mean you do not want me to be happy."

Oh, this was ridiculous! "You are right, Letitia. That is exactly it. I want you to be miserable. Perhaps I should go wake your brother and tell him why you are so reluctant to spend time with any of the suitors he has chosen. Why did I not think of it sooner?"

A hand caught her arm as she turned to go. "No, Sophia, please!"

It was Sophia's turn to be belligerent now. She faced Letitia with a challenging gaze. "Give me one good reason why I should not."

Letitia seemed to think about it, undoubtedly searching for a good enough reason in that mystifying mind of hers. "I will never speak to you again if you do."

Sophia was unmoved. "Right now that sounds more like a favor than a threat, Letitia."

The young woman's face fell. For a moment Sophia feared she might actually burst into tears. That would not be good, but it didn't stop her from continuing, "You accuse me of being untrustworthy, yet you have yet to give me good reason to trust you. You keep secrets, skulk about like some kind of criminal and now you try to threaten me. That does not make you much of a friend, Letitia. It does not make you someone I can trust."

Letitia's chin trembled and Sophia braced herself, waiting for the deluge to start.

But it didn't. "You are right," the younger woman replied in a shaky voice. "I haven't been much of a friend to you lately. In fact, I haven't been your friend at all. I have been petty and jealous."

"Jealous?" This was something new.

With a great deal of obvious hesitancy, Letitia met her gaze. "Yes. I see how happy you and Julian are and it makes me angry. I want you to go back to disliking him so I can feel that you are on my side again, and I am jealous because I want a husband to laugh with."

As angry as she had been, Sophia was touched by her friend's candor. She couldn't help but be sympathetic.

"And you will have one someday. I promise." She couldn't resist adding, "Just take care you do not get yourself into trouble, being in such a hurry."

Letitia nodded. "I will. Forgive me, Sophia, please."

Smiling, Sophia ran her hand down the other woman's arm. "It is already forgiven, but I want you to promise me that there will be no more sneaking out at night. No more behavior that might expose you to scandal."

Again Letitia nodded. "I promise."

The vow was given rather quickly, perhaps a little too lightly, but Sophia was satisfied with it for now. "Good. Now why don't you get off to bed? It is late."

Letitia hugged her and said good night. Sophia stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched as the young woman climbed them into the darkness beyond. A few moments later she heard the soft click of a door opening and closing again.

Dealing with Letitia had left Sophia more exhausted than any amount of wine and reading could have. She wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed beside Julian and press her cold toes against his warm legs.

She did just that, shucking off her robe before she slipped under the covers. He woke up as she placed her feet in the soft crook of his knees.

"Bloody hell, those are cold!" he cried hoarsely, rolling toward her. "Where the devil have you been?"

"Downstairs," she replied. "I thought a glass of wine might help me sleep."

Hauling her against him, even though he growled about how cold she was, Julian put his nose near her mouth and sniffed. "I do not smell wine."

"I did not have any. I ran into Letitia and ended up talking to her instead." At least that was the truth.

Obviously he didn't find it strange that Letitia was also up at this late hour. He merely nodded, his cheek sliding against her pillow. He was so lovely when he was sleepy.

"I trust she is feeling better?"

Stroking the soft fullness of his hair, Sophia kissed his forehead. "I believe so, yes."

"Good. It upsets me to cause her such distress."

Wrapping her arms around him, Sophia closed her eyes and didn't reply. He would be so much more upset if he only knew the truth.

The truth she had promised not to tell him.

J
ulian saw the fist a split second before it came crashing into his jaw.

"Bloody hell, Jules. I thought you were looking. Are you all right?"

Shaking his head to clear the stars dancing before his eyes, Julian stretched his jaw open and then closed it again. At least it still worked, even if it did hurt like the blazes.

He was in one corner of Gentleman Jackson's pugilism club. All around him, aristocratic gentlemen with varying levels of skill made a show of trying to pound each other into some kind of barbaric pecking order. He was one of them.

A few feet away, he could hear Gabriel chuckling. "Have a care with that pretty face of his, Brave."

Julian scowled at his friend before turning his attention back to his sparring opponent. "I am fine. It is my own fault— I should have been paying attention."

But he hadn't been. His mind had been busy thinking of Sophia and how preoccupied she had been over the past few days. She seemed to have something pressing upon her thoughts, something she didn't seem to want to share with him. He didn't think she was unhappy in their marriage, but she was certainly preoccupied with something.

He asked Sophia what was troubling her— several times in fact. She had smiled and replied that it was nothing, that she was simply woolgathering.

Perhaps it was the confrontation with Aberley that had her so morose. He knew full well she had left out details of the meeting when she told him of it— he could hear it in her voice. Why did she not tell him the truth? Was she embarrassed, or was she truly worried that he would challenge the marquess? She should know that just the fact that Aberley had dared approach her was reason enough in Julian's mind to beat the man senseless.

"I wager I know what has you so addlepated." Gabriel flashed him a rakish grin as he helped Brave out of the mufflers— thick, padded gloves— covering his hands. As a rule the gloves were used for practice matches while bare knuckles were still the weapon of preference in the ring.

"And what might that be?" Julian didn't step up to have his gloves removed. He was still brimming with restless energy. He still wanted to hurt somebody. Gabriel was beginning to look like the perfect candidate.

"You are a newlywed," the darker man replied, holding Brave's now-empty gloves. "Your mind is on your wife— where it should be."

"You are very astute." Julian lifted his chin toward the gloves in the other man's hands. "Put those on and come fight me, Gabe. You do not mind hitting me half so much as Brave does."

Gabriel's nose wrinkled as he looked down at the used mufflers. "They are damp."

"So?"

His friend glanced up, distaste still plain on his face. "They smell."

Laughing, Julian gave up. "Never mind then, you big coward. I shall just have to find someone else to spar with."

"I would be pleased to spar with you, Wolfram."

Julian froze, the laughter dying in his throat. He knew before he turned around— knew from the expressions on Gabe's and Brave's faces— who his challenger was.

"How very kind of you, Aberley," he replied with frosty civility, "but I must decline."

Aberley flashed a grin at the two men flanking him. "You are not afraid of me, are you, Wolfram?"

It was the most childish thing the marquess could have asked. It was also the most effective. No man could walk away from an affront to his courage, especially not one who had spent much of his school years proving his slender stature didn't mean he couldn't hold his own.

But he had promised Sophia…

No. He had promised Sophia he wouldn't
confront
Aberley. He remembered distinctly telling her that he could not make her any such promise if Aberley came to him. And in this arena, where men fought each other every day, any violence between them would not raise half the scandal as some kind of duel might.

"No," he heard himself reply. "I am not afraid at all. Get yourself a pair of mufflers, Aberley. I will fight you."

His smile perhaps a little less smug than it had been, the marquess nodded. He still looked more pleased with himself than he had a right too. Julian knew from simply looking at him that Aberley planned to beat him, and not just beat him but publicly humiliate him.

"Do you know what you are doing?" Gabriel demanded, coming up behind him as the marquess and his cronies went in search of gloves.

Glancing over his shoulder, Julian nodded. "Yes, I do."

"I have seen Aberley fight before," Brave joined in. "He is very good."

Julian didn't take his gaze off the marquess's retreating back. "So am I."

Apparently unsatisfied by his answers, his friends came forward, confronting him face on now, rather than from behind.

"Surely you are not going to fight the man just because he challenged you?" Gabriel demanded. He frowned. "Why did he challenge you anyway?"

"I presume it has something to do with Sophia," Julian replied, deliberately vague.

Julian had never seen fit to tell his friends about Aberley's physical assault on Sophia. Sophia wouldn't want them to know. He told them about how he kept her in lowered circumstances, and of course they knew he was responsible for the reappearance of Sophia's book, but they had no idea that Aberley hated him for stopping him from forcing himself upon Sophia. Hated him for marrying her.

What Aberley didn't know was that Julian hated
him
even more.

His friends dropped back again, no doubt to discuss him behind his back. Julian didn't care. He knew that Brave and Gabriel were merely concerned for him and his safety. They needn't be. Even if Aberley bested him, Julian was still going to hurt the marquess— very badly, with any luck.

Aberley returned a few moments later. Stripped down to his shirtsleeves, he looked even bigger than he had before. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal beefy forearms, and the gloves he wore only made his huge hands even more gigantic. Julian made a mental note to keep moving as much as possible. No mistake, if Aberley hit him, it was going to hurt. A lot.

Shrugging his shoulders to loosen the knotted muscles there and in his neck, Julian waited for Aberley to come to him.

"'Tis a good thing you and Braven are here, Angelwood." Aberley grinned. "Wolfram will have to be carried out of here when I am done with him."

Julian fixed his opponent with a level stare. "Are you going to stand around grunting all day, Aberley, or are we going to fight?"

All traces of mockery faded from the marquess's face as his features twisted into a bitter mask of contempt. "I am ready if you are, Wolfram."

Julian only nodded. Slowly, he raised his fists, adopting a defensive stance. As he predicted, Aberley made the first move, coming at him with such speed and ferocity that Julian dodged the blow at the last possible second. As he came back up he struck out at the other man's thick midsection, catching him in the ribs with a hard jab. Aberley grunted and reacted instantly, catching Julian in the jaw with such force Julian thought his neck might break as it snapped backwards. He had been right. It did hurt when Aberley hit him. A lot.

Shaking off the colored lights dancing before his eyes, Julian managed to recover just as the marquess charged again. This time he managed to land a hard punch to Aberley's temple. He couldn't help but smile as the larger man stumbled backward, obviously dazed.