"It is a private matter, my lord. I do not speak of it."

"You will speak of it to me. I am afraid I must insist, Sophy. I am your husband."

"Do stop using that fact as an excuse for indulging your curiosity," she snapped.

He slanted her a considering glance and considered the defiant tilt of her chin. "You insult me, madam."

She shifted uneasily, attempting to straighten her skirts. "You are easily insulted, my lord."

"Ah, yes, my excessive arrogance. I fear we must both learn to live with it, Sophy. Just as we must learn to live with my excessive curiosity." Julian studied the broken feather shaft and waited.

Silence descended on the swaying coach. The sound of creaking wheels and harness leather and the steady beat of the horses' hooves suddenly became very loud.

"It was not a matter that affected me, personally," Sophy finally said in a very small voice.

"Yes?" Again Julian waited.

"It was my sister who was the victim of the seduction." Sophy stared very hard at the passing scenery. "But she had no one to avenge her."

"I understood that your sister died three years ago."

"She did."

Something about Sophy's clipped voice alerted Julian. "Are you implying that her death was the result of a seduction?"

"She found herself with child, my lord. The man who was responsible cast her aside. She could not bear the shame or the betrayal. She took a large dose of laudanum." Her fingers clenched together in her lap.

Julian sighed. "I am sorry, Sophy."

"There was no need for her to take such a course of action," Sophy whispered tightly. "Bess could have helped her."

"Old Bess? How?" Julian frowned.

"There are ways that such situations may be remedied," Sophy said. "Old Bess knows them. If only my sister had confided in me, I could have taken her to Bess. No one need ever have known."

Julian dropped the feather shaft and leaned over to capture his wife's wrist once more. This time he deliberately exerted pressure on the small bones. "What do you know of such matters?" he demanded very softly. Elizabeth had known such things.

Sophy blinked quickly, apparently confused by his sudden, controlled rage. "Old Bess knows much about medicinal herbs. She has taught me many things."

"She has taught you ways to rid yourself of an unwanted babe?" he demanded softly.

Sophy seemed to realize at last that she had said far too much. "She… she has mentioned certain herbs that a woman can use if she believes she has conceived," she admitted hesitantly. "But the herbs can be very dangerous to the mother and must be used with great skill and caution." Sophy looked down at her hands for a moment. "I am not skilled in that particular art."

"Bloody hell. You had best not be skilled in such things, Sophy. And I swear, if that old witch, Bess, is dealing in abortion, I will have her removed from my land immediately."

"Really, my lord? Are your friends in London so very pure? Have none of your amours never been obliged to resort to certain remedies because of you?"

"No, they have not," Julian rasped, thoroughly goaded now. "For your information, madam, there are techniques that may be used to prevent the problem from occurring in the first place, just as there are ways to prevent contracting certain diseases associated with… never mind."

"Techniques, my lord? What techniques?" Sophy's eyes lit up with obvious fascination.

"Good God, I don't believe we are discussing such matters."

"You opened the discussion, my lord. I collect you do not intend to tell me about these techniques for preventing the, er, problem."

"No, I most certainly do not."

"Ah, I see. This is yet another privileged bit of information available only to men?"

"You have no need of such information, Sophy," he said grimly. "You are not in the one business that would require that you learn such things."

"But there are women who do know such things?" she pressed.

"That is quite enough, Sophy."

"And you know such women? Would you introduce me to one of them? I should dearly love to chat with her. Perhaps she would know other such amazing things. My intellectual interests are quite far-ranging, you know. One can get only so much out of books."

He thought for an instant she was teasing him again and Julian came close to losing his temper completely. But at the last moment he realized Sophy's fascination was oddly innocent and totally genuine. He groaned and leaned back into the corner of the seat. "We will not discuss this further."

"You sound distressingly like my grandmother. Really, it is very disappointing, Julian. I had hoped that when I married I would find myself living with someone who would be a more amusing conversationalist."

"I shall endeavor to amuse you in other ways," he muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head against the cushion.

"If you are talking about seduction again, Julian, I must tell you, I do not find the topic amusing."

"Because of what happened to your sister? I can see where such a situation would have left its mark on you, Sophy. But you must learn that there is a vast difference between that which goes on between husband and wife and the sort of unpleasant seduction your sister endured."

"Really, my lord? How does a man learn to make such fine distinctions? At school? Did you learn them during your first marriage or from your experience of keeping mistresses?"

At that juncture, Julian's temper frayed to a gossamer thread. He did not move or open his eyes. He did not dare. "I have explained to you that my first marriage is not a topic for discussion. Nor is the other subject you just raised. If you are wise, you will keep that in mind, Sophy."

Something in his too-quiet words apparently made an impression on her. She said nothing more.

Julian took up the reins of his temper once again and when he knew he had himself in check he opened his eyes and regarded his new bride. "Sooner or later you must accustom yourself to me, Sophy."

"You promised me three months, my lord."

"Damn it, woman, I will not force myself upon you for the next three months. But do not expect me to make no attempt whatsoever to change your mind about lovemaking in the meantime. That is asking entirely too much and is completely outside the terms of our ridiculous agreement."

Her head snapped around. "Is this what you meant when you warned me that a man's sense of honor is unreliable when it comes to his dealings with women? Am

I to assume, my lord, that I may not rely upon your word as a gentleman?"

The insult went to the bone. "There is not a single man of my acquaintance who would risk saying such a thing to me, madam."

"Are you going to call me out?" she asked with deep interest. "I should tell you my grandfather taught me how to use his pistols. I am accounted a fair shot."

Julian wondered whether a gentleman's honor prevented him from beating his wife on her wedding day. Somehow this marriage was not getting off to the smooth, orderly start he had intended.

He looked at the bright, inquiring face opposite him and tried to think of a response to Sophy's outrageous comment. At that moment the bit of ribbon that had been dangling from her reticule fell to the floor of the carriage.

Sophy frowned and leaned forward quickly to pick it up. Julian moved simultaneously and his big hand brushed against her small one.

"Allow me," he said coolly, picking up the stray bit of ribbon and dropping it into her palm.

"Thank you," she said, slightly embarrassed. She began struggling furiously to work the ribbon back into the design on her reticule.

Julian sat back, watching in fascination as another piece of ribbon came loose. Before his eyes, the entire intricately worked pattern of ribbon trim began to unravel. In less than five minutes Sophy was sitting with a totally demolished reticule. She looked up with a bewildered gaze.