He was also willing to allow that Sophy had a fine pair of eyes. They were an interesting and unusual shade of turquoise flecked with gold. It was curious and rather satisfying to note that their owner had not the least idea of how to use them to flirt.

Instead of peeking up at a man through her lashes, Sophy had the disconcerting habit of looking straight at him. There was an open, forthright quality about her gaze that had convinced Julian that Sophy would have a great deal of difficulty pursuing the elegant art of lying. That fact suited him, too. Picking out the handful of truths buried amid Elizabeth's lies had nearly driven him insane.

Sophy was slender. The popular high-waisted gowns suited her figure but they tended to emphasize the rather small curves of her breasts. There was, however, a healthy, vibrant quality about her that Julian appreciated. He did not want a weakling. Frail women did not do well in childbirth.

Julian reviewed his mental image of the woman he intended to marry and realized that, while he had assessed her physical assets accurately, he had not, apparently, taken certain aspects of her personality into consideration. He had never guessed, for example, that beneath that sweet, demure facade, she had a streak of willful pride.

It must have been Sophy's pride that was getting in the way of a proper sense of gratitude. And her willfulness appeared more entrenched than expected. Her grandparents were obviously distraught and quite helpless against their granddaughter's unanticipated resistance. If the situation was to be salvaged, Julian decided, he would have to do it himself.

He made his decision as the carriage rocked to a halt in front of the two stately arms of the crab-pincer staircase that marked the imposing entrance to Ravenwood Abbey. He climbed out of the equipage, stalked up the stone steps, and began giving low-voiced orders as soon as the door was opened for him.