My aim in writing these Memoirs is not to humiliate or embarrass, but rather simply to raise sufficient funds to provide for an uncertain future. In that light, I am offering an opportunity to those concerned to assure themselves that specific names do not appear in print and thereby cause unpleasant gossip. This same opportunity will also afford me the funds I seek without obliging me to resort to revealing intimate details of past associations. As you can see, the proposition I will put to you presently is beneficial to all involved.

Now, then, Madam, I come to the point: If you will send the sum of two hundred pounds to me by five o'clock tomorrow afternoon you may rest assured that a number of charming letters your husband once wrote to me do not appear in my Memoirs.

To you such a sum of money is a mere pittance, less than the cost of a new gown. To me it is a building block in the cozy little rose-covered cottage in Bath to which I will soon retire. I look forward to hearing from you promptly.

I remain, Madam, yours very truly, C. E

Sophy reread the letter a third time, her hands shaking. She was dazed by the flames of rage that burst to life within her. It was not the fact that Julian might once have been intimately involved with Charlotte Featherstone that infuriated her, she realized. It was not even the threat of having that past association detailed in print, as humiliating as it would be, that left her trembling with anger.

What made Sophy lightheaded with fury was the realization that Julian had once taken the time to write love notes to a professional courtesan yet he could not be bothered to jot so much as a simple love poem to his new wife.

"Mary, put away the morning dress and get out my green riding habit."

Mary glanced at her in surprise. "You have decided to ride this mornin', ma'am?"

"Yes, I have."

"Will Lord Ravenwood be going with you?" Mary inquired as she set to work.

"No, he will not." Sophy shoved back the covers and got to her feet, still clutching Charlotte Featherstone's letter in one hand. "Anne Silverthorne and Jane Morland ride nearly every morning in the park. I believe I will join them today."

Mary nodded. "I'll send word to have a horse and a groom waitin' for you downstairs, my lady."

"Please do that, Mary."

A short while later Sophy was assisted onto a fine chestnut mare by a liveried groom who had his own pony waiting nearby. She set off at once for the park, leaving the groom to follow as best he could.

It was not difficult to find Anne and Jane who were cantering along one of the main paths. Their grooms followed at a discreet distance, chatting in low tones with each other.

Anne's froth of red curls gleamed in the morning light and her vivid eyes sparkled with welcome as she caught sight of Sophy.

"Sophy, I'm so glad you could join us this morning. We are just beginning our ride. Isn't it a beautiful day?"

"For some, perhaps," Sophy allowed ominously. "But not for others. I must talk with both of you."

Jane's perpetually serious gaze grew even darker with concern. "Is something wrong, Sophy?"

"Very wrong. I cannot even bring myself to try to explain. It is beyond anything. Never have I been so humiliated. Here. Read this." Sophy handed Charlotte's letter to Jane as the three women slowed their horses to a walk along the path.

"Good heavens," Jane breathed, looking stricken as she scanned the note. Without another word she handed the letter to Anne.

Anne perused the missive quickly and then glanced up, clearly shocked. "She is going to print the letters Ravenwood wrote to her?"

Sophy nodded, her mouth tight with anger. "So it seems. Unless, of course, I pay her two hundred pounds."

"This is outrageous," Anne declared in ringing accents.

"Only to be expected, I suppose," Jane said more prosaically. "After all, Featherstone has not hesitated to name several members of the Beau Monde in the first installments. She even mentioned a royal Duke, remember? If Ravenwood was associated with her at some time in the past, it is logical that his turn would come sooner or later."

"How dare he! Sophy whispered half under her breath.

Jane gave her a sympathetic glance. "Sophy, dear, you are not that naive. It is the way of the world for most men in Society to have mistresses. At least she does not claim that Ravenwood is still an admirer. Be grateful for that much."

"Grateful" Sophy could barely speak.

"You have read the first installments of the Memoirs along with the rest of us. You have seen the number of well-known names Featherstone was associated with at one time or another. Most of them were married during the time they were involved with Charlotte Featherstone."

"So many men leading double lives." Sophy shook her head angrily. "And they have the gall to lecture women on honor and proper behavior. It is infuriating."

"And so grossly unfair," Anne added vehemently. "Just one more example of why I feel the married state has so little to offer an intelligent woman."

"Why did he have to write Featherstone those love letters?" Sophy asked in soft anguish.

"If he put his feelings into writing, then the entire affair must have occurred a long time ago. Only a very young man would make that mistake," Jane observed.

Ah, yes , thought Sophy. A young man. A young man who was still capable of strong romantic emotion. It would seem that all such sentiment had been burned out of Julian. The feelings she longed to hear him express to her he had squandered years ago on women such as Charlotte Featherstone and Elizabeth. It would seem there was nothing left for Sophy at all. Nothing.

In that moment she hated both Elizabeth and Charlotte with all the passion in her soul.

"I wonder why Featherstone did not send this note to Ravenwood?" Anne mused.

Jane's mouth curved wryly. "Probably because she knew full well Ravenwood would tell her to go to the devil. I do not see Sophy's husband paying blackmail, do you?"

"I do not know him very well," Anne admitted, "but from all accounts, no, I do not see him sending the two hundred pounds to Featherstone. Not even to spare Sophy the humiliation that is bound to follow the publication of those horrid letters."

"So," concluded Jane, "knowing she stands little chance of getting any money out of Ravenwood, Featherstone has decided to try blackmailing Sophy, instead."

"I will never pay blackmail to that woman," Sophy vowed, her hands tightening so abruptly on the reins that her mare tossed her head in startled protest.

"But what else can you do?" Anne asked gently. "Surely you do not want those letters to appear in print. Only think of the gossip that will ensue."

"It will not be that bad," Jane said soothingly. "Everyone will know the affair happened long before Ravenwood married Sophy."

"The timing of the affair will not matter," Sophy said dully. "There will be talk and we all know it. This will not be simple gossip Featherstone will be repeating. She will actually be printing letters that Julian himself wrote. Everyone will be discussing those blasted love notes. Quoting them at parties and the opera, no doubt. The entire ton will wonder if he has written similar letters to me and perhaps plagiarized himself in the process. I cannot bear it, I tell you."

"Sophy's right," Anne agreed. "And she is even more vulnerable because she is a new bride. People are just becoming aware of her socially. This will add a nasty edge to the talk."

There was no refuting that simple truth. All three women fell silent for a few minutes as their horses ambled along the path. Sophy's brain was churning. It was difficult to think clearly. Every time she tried to sort out her thoughts she found herself thinking of the love letters Julian had once written to another woman.

"You know, of course, exactly what would happen if this situation were reversed," Sophy finally said after a few more minutes of seething thought.

Jane frowned and Anne looked at Sophy with dawning awareness.

"Sophy, do not fret yourself about this," Jane urged. "Show the letter to Ravenwood and let him handle it."

"You've pointed out yourself that his idea of handling it would be to tell Featherstone to go to the devil. The letters would still appear in print."

"It is a most unhappy situation," Anne stated. "But I see no obvious solution."

Sophy hesitated a moment and then said quietly, "We say that because we are women and therefore accustomed to being powerless. But there is a solution if one views this in the same light as a man would view it."

Jane gave her a wary look. "What are you thinking, Sophy?"

"This," Sophy declared with a newfound sense of resolution, "is clearly a matter of honor."

Anne and Jane looked at each other and then at Sophy.

"I agree," Anne said slowly, "but I do not see how viewing it in that way changes anything."

Sophy looked at her friend. "If a man had received such a note threatening blackmail because of a past indiscretion on the part of his wife, he would not hesitate to call out the blackmailer."

"Call him out!" Jane was astounded. "But, Sophy, this is not the same sort of situation at all."

"Is it not?"

"No, it is not," Jane said quickly. "Sophy, this involves you and another female. You cannot possibly consider such a course of action."

"Why not?" Sophy demanded. "My grandfather taught me how to use a pistol and I know where I can secure a set of duelers for this event."