The other thing of which Sophy was almost certain was that her sister and the unknown man had used the ruins of an old Norman castle on Ravenwood land for their secret rendezvous. Sophy had been fond of sketching the ancient pile of stone until she had found one of Amelia's handkerchiefs there. She had discovered it a few weeks after her sister's death. After that fateful day, Sophy had never returned to the scenic ruin.

What better way to find out the identity of the man who had caused Amelia to kill herself than to become the new Lady Ravenwood?

Sophy's hand clenched around the ring for a moment and then she dropped it back into the jewelry chest. It was just as well she had a rational, sensible, realistic reason for marrying the Earl of Ravenwood because her other reason for marrying him was likely to prove a wild, fruitless quest.

For she intended to try to teach the devil to love again.

Julian sprawled with negligent grace in the well-sprung traveling coach and regarded his new Countess with a critical eye. He had seen very little of Sophy during the past few weeks. He had told himself there had been no need to make an excessive number of trips from London to Hampshire. He had business to attend to in town. Now he took the opportunity to scrutinize more closely the woman he had chosen to provide him with an heir.

He regarded his bride, who had been a countess for only a few hours with some surprise. As usual, however, there was a certain chaotic look about her person. Several ringlets of tawny brown hair had escaped the confines of her new straw bonnet. A feather on the bonnet was sticking out at an odd angle. Julian looked closer and saw that the shaft had been broken. His gaze slipped downward and he discovered a small piece of ribbon trim on Sophy's reticule was loose.

The hem of her traveling dress had a grass stain on it. He thought Sophy had undoubtedly accomplished that feat when she had bent down to receive the fistful of flowers from a rather grubby little farm lad. Everyone in the village had turned out to wave farewell to Sophy as she had prepared to step into the traveling coach. Julian had not realized his wife was such a popular figure in the local neighborhood.

He was vastly relieved his new bride had made no complaint when he had informed her that he intended a working honeymoon. He had recently acquired a new estate in Norfolk and the obligatory month-long wedding trip was the perfect opportunity to examine his newest holdings.

He was also obliged to admit Lady Dorring had done a creditable job orchestrating the wedding. Most of the gentry in the surrounding countryside had been invited. Julian had not bothered to invite any of his acquaintances from London, however. The thought of going through a second wedding ceremony in front of the same sea of faces that had been present as the first debacle was more than he could stomach.

When the announcement of his forthcoming marriage had appeared in the Morning Post he had been plagued with questions, but he had handled most of the impertinent inquiries the way he usually handled such annoyances: he had ignored them.

With one or two exceptions, his policy had worked. His mouth tightened now as he recalled one of the exceptions.

A certain lady in Trevor Square had not been particularly pleased to learn of Julian's marriage. But Marianne Harwood had been too shrewd and too pragmatic to make more than a small scene. There were other fish in the sea. The earrings Julian had left behind on the occasion of that last visit had gone a long way toward soothing the ruffled features of La Belle Harwood.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" Sophy calmly broke into Julian's reverie.

Julian jerked his thoughts back to the present. "Not in the least. I was merely recalling a small business matter I had to attend to last week."

"It must have been a very unpleasant business matter. You appeared quite provoked. I thought for a moment you might have eaten a bad bit of meat pie."

Julian smiled faintly. "The incident was the sort that tends to interfere with a man's digestion but I assure you I am in excellent condition now."

"I see." Sophy stared at him with her astonishingly level gaze for a moment longer, nodded to herself and turned back to the window.

Julian scowled. "Now it's my turn to ask you if something is wrong, Sophy."

"Not in the least."

Arms folded across his chest, Julian contemplated the tassels on his polished Hessians for a few seconds before he glanced up with a quizzical gleam in his eye. "I think it would be best if we came to an understanding about one or two small matters, Madam Wife."

She glanced at him. "Yes, my lord?"

"A few weeks ago you gave me your list of demands."

She frowned. "True, my lord."

"At the time I was busy and neglected to make up a list of my own."

"I already know your demands, my lord. You want an heir and no trouble."

"I would like to take this opportunity to be a bit more precise."

"You wish to add to your list? That's hardly fair, is it?"

"I did not say I was adding to the list, merely clarifying it." Julian paused. He saw the wariness in her turquoise eyes and smiled slightly. "Don't look so worried, my dear. The first item on my list, an heir, is plain enough. It's the second item I wish to clarify."

"No trouble. It seems simple enough."

"It will be once you understand exactly what I mean by it."

"For example?"

"For example, it will save us both a great deal of trouble if you make it a policy never to lie to me."

Her eyes widened. "I have no intention of doing any such thing, my lord."

"Excellent. Because you should know you would not be able to get away with it. There is something about your eyes, Sophy, that would betray you every time. And I would be most annoyed if I should detect a lie in your eyes. You understand me perfectly?"

"Perfectly, my lord."

"Then let us return to my earlier question. I believe I asked you if anything was wrong and you stated that there was nothing wrong. Your eyes say otherwise, my dear."

She toyed with the loose ribbon on her reticule. "Am I to have no privacy for my thoughts, my lord?"

He scowled. "Were your thoughts so very private at that moment that you felt obliged to conceal them from your husband?"

"No," she said simply. "I merely assumed you would not be pleased if I spoke them aloud so I kept them to myself."

He had set out to make a point but now Julian found himself swamped with curiosity. "I would like to hear them, if you please."

"Very well, I was engaging in a bit of deductive logic, my lord. You had just admitted that the business matters you had attended to prior to our marriage had been most provoking and I was hazarding a guess as to what sort of business matter you meant."

"And to what conclusion did your deductive logic lead you?"

"To the conclusion you had undoubtedly had some difficulty when you had informed your current mistress that you were getting married. One had hardly blame the poor woman. She has, after all, been doing all the work of a wife and now you announce you intend to give the title to another applicant for the post. A rather unskilled applicant, at that. I expect she enacted you a grand tragedy and that was what provoked you. Tell me, is she an actress or a ballet dancer?"

Julian's first impulse was an absurd desire to laugh. He quelled it instantly in the interests of husbandly discipline. "You overstep yourself, madam," he said through his teeth.

"You are the one who demanded I tell you all my private thoughts." The loose feather in her bonnet bobbed. "Will you agree now that there are times when I should be allowed some privacy?"

"You should not be speculating about such things in the first place."

"I am quite certain you are right but unfortunately I have very little control over my inner speculations."