Sophy nodded at the wrinkled old woman who had taught her so much. "I'll remember to cut back on my measurements. How is everything with you? Do you need anything?"

"Nary a thing, child, nary a thing." Bess surveyed her aging cottage and herb garden with a serene eye as she wiped her hands on her apron. "I have everythin' I need.

"You always do. You are lucky to be so content with life, Bess."

"Ye'll find contentment one o' these days, if ye truly seek it."

Sophy's smile faded. "Perhaps. But first I must seek other things."

Bess regarded her sorrowfully, her pale eyes full of understanding. "I thought ye'd gotten past yer need for vengeance, child. I thought ye'd finally left it in the past where it ought to be."

"Things have changed, Bess." Sophy started around the corner of the small, thatch-roofed cottage to where her gelding was waiting. "As it happens, I have been given a new opportunity to see that justice is done."

"If ye had any common sense, ye would take my advice and forget it, child. What's done is done. Yer sister, rest her soul, is gone. There's naught ye can do for her now. Ye have yer own life and ye must pay attention to it." Bess smiled her gap-toothed smile. "I hear there be a somewhat more pressin' matter for ye to consider these days."

Sophy glanced sharply at the elderly woman while she made a useless attempt to straighten her precariously tilted riding hat. "As usual, you manage to keep up with the village gossip. You've heard I received an offer of marriage from the devil himself?"

"The folks who call Lord Ravenwood a devil are the ones who deal in gossip. I deal only in facts. Is it true?"

"What? That the Earl is closely related to Lucifer? Yes, Bess, I am almost certain it is true. I have never before met such an arrogant man as his lordship. That sort of pride definitely belongs to the devil."

Bess shook her head impatiently. "I meant is it true he's offered for ye?"

"Yes."

"Well? When do ye be about givin' him yer answer, pray tell?"

Sophy shrugged, abandoning the effort to adjust her hat. Hats always had their way with her. "Grandfather is giving him an answer this afternoon. The Earl sent a message that he would be calling at three today to receive it."

Bess came to an abrupt halt on the stone path. Gray curls bobbed beneath her yellowed muslin cap. Her lined face crinkled in astonishment. "This afternoon? And here ye be choosin' herbs from my stock as if it were any normal day of the week? What nonsense is this, child? Ye should be at Chesley Court at this very moment and dressed in yer best clothes."

"Why? Grandfather does not need me there. He is perfectly capable of telling the devil to go to hell."

"Tellin' the devil to go to hell! Sophy, child, are ye sayin' ye told yer grandfather to turn down the Earl's offer?"

Sophy smiled grimly as she came to a halt beside the chestnut gelding. "You have it exactly right, Bess." She stuffed the little packets of herbs into the pockets of her habit.

"Nonsense," Bess exclaimed. "I can't believe Lord Dorring is so muddle-brained as this. He knows you'll never get another offer this good if ye live to be a hundred."

"I'm not so certain of that," Sophy said dryly. "It depends, of course, on your definition of a good offer."

Bess's gaze narrowed thoughtfully. "Child, are ye doin' this because yer afraid of the Earl? Is that what's wrong? I thought ye were too sensible to believe all the stories they tell down in the village."

"I do not believe them all," Sophy said as she swung herself into the saddle. "Only about half. Does that console you, Bess?" Sophy adjusted the skirts of her habit under her legs. She rode astride, although it was not considered quite proper for a woman of her station to do so. In the country, however, people were more casual about such matters. In any event Sophy was convinced her modesty was well protected. With her habit carefully arranged this way only her tan half-boots showed beneath the skirts.

Bess caught hold of the horse's bridle and peered up at Sophy. "Here now, girl. Ye don't truly believe that tale they tell about his lordship drownin' his first wife in Ravenwood Pond, do ye?"

Sophy sighed. "No, Bess, I do not." It would have been more accurate to say she did not want to believe it.

"Thank the lord, although it be God's truth there ain't none around here who'd have blamed the man if he had killed her," Bess admitted.

"True enough, Bess."

"Then what's all this nonsense about ye refusin' his lordship's offer? I don't care for the look in yer eyes, child. I've seen it before and it don't bode well. What are ye up to now?"

"Now? Why, now I am going to ride old Dancer here back to Chesley Court and then I am going to set about storing these herbs you have so kindly given me. Grandfather's gout is acting up again and I have run out of his favorite decoction."

"Sophy, darlin', are ye truly goin' to refuse the Earl?"

"No," Sophy said honestly. "So you need not look so horrified. In the end, if he persists, he shall have me. But it will be on my terms."

Bess's eyes widened. "Ah, now I believe I take yer meanin'. Ye've been readin' those books on the rights o' women again, haven't ye? Don't be a fool, child. Take some advice from an old woman. Don't be about playin' any of yer games with Ravenwood. He's not likely to indulge them. Ye might be able to lead Lord Dorring around by a piece of string, but the Earl's a different sort o' man, altogether."

"I agree with you on that point, Bess. The Earl is a vastly different sort of man than Grandfather. But try not to worry about me. I know what I am doing." Sophy collected the reins and gave Dancer a nudge with her heel.

"Nay, child, I'm not so sure o' that, Bess called after her. "Ye don't tease the devil and expect to come away unharmed."

"I thought you said Ravenwood was not a devil," Sophy retorted over her shoulder as Dancer broke into a lumbering trot.

She waved at Bess as the horse headed into a stand of trees. There was no need to guide Dancer back toward Chesley Court. He had made the trip so often during the past few years that he knew the route over Ravenwood lands by heart.

Sophy let the reins rest lightly on Dancer's neck as she considered the scene she would undoubtedly discover when she got back to Chesley Court.

Her grandparents would be distraught, of course. Lady Dorring had taken to her bed this morning, an array of fortifying salts and tonics arranged nearby. Lord Dorring, who had been left to face Ravenwood alone, would probably be consoling himself with a bottle of claret by now. The small house staff would be quietly morose. A suitable connection for Sophy would have been in their best interests as well as everyone else's. Without a respectable marriage settlement to fill the family coffers there was little hope of a pension for aging servants.

No one in the household could be expected to understand Sophy's staunch refusal of Ravenwood's offer. Rumors, gossip, and grim tales aside, the man was, after all, an Earl—a wealthy and powerful one at that. He owned most of the surrounding neighborhood there in Hampshire as well as two other smaller estates in neighboring counties. He also had an elegant house in London.

As far as the local people were concerned, Ravenwood ran his lands well and was fair with his tenants and servants. That was all that truly mattered in the country. Those who were dependent on the Earl and who were careful not to cross him enjoyed a comfortable living.

Ravenwood had his faults, everyone agreed, but he took care of the land and the people on it. He may have murdered his wife but he had refrained from doing anything truly heinous such as throwing away his entire inheritance in a London gaming hell.

The local people could afford to be charitable toward Ravenwood , Sophy thought. They were not faced with the prospect of marriage to him.