The Redemption of Julian Price

“What do you mean?” she asked, perplexed.

“Exactly as I said,” Harry replied. “You are to get dressed and go back home to Mother and Lavinia.” Henrietta gaped at her brother, unable to comprehend his radical alteration in behavior. He’d always treated her more as a brother than a sister. “Now, Hen,” Harry insisted. “If you refuse, I’ll tell Mama everything, and she’ll never let you out of the house again.”

Henrietta spun away with tears of anger burning her eyes. Her body may have changed, but she had not. She’d always been more comfortable with male companions over females. They had readily accepted her when she’d proven their equal in climbing, riding, and other sports, but everything changed once she’d sprouted breasts. Thomas could hardly look her in the face anymore. Julian, however, seemed particularly fascinated. A month later, he even tried to kiss her at the Michaelmas Fair. In response, Henrietta had balled up a fist and drawn his cork, leaving him with a small hump on the bridge of his nose. Perceiving her breasts as the root of her troubles, she’d considered binding herself, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

Her life had irrevocably changed.





CHAPTER ONE


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Bishop’s Castle, Shropshire, 1815

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HENRIETTA HOUGHTON OPENED HER EYES to sunshine streaming brightly through her violet-and-rose chintz curtains. Staring through the matching canopy of blooms above her bed, she allowed herself the indulgence of lingering a little longer in her fantasy. She’d dreamt that she was once again thirteen and walking between Julian and Harry at the Michaelmas Fair. As before, when Harry left her unchaperoned to take his turn at darts, Julian had offered to buy her a raspberry ice. This time, however, when he pulled her into an alcove to steal a kiss, rather than punching him, she’d let him kiss her. But this kiss was nothing like the brusque peck he’d planted on her cheek at their parting six years ago.

In the dream, Julian’s warm and soft lips moved over hers in a way that made her tingle to her toes. She’d awakened from the dream with a strange sensation resembling fluttering butterflies deep in her belly that spread their wings outward to the sensitive juncture between her legs. She studied the canopy of flowers with the discomposing realization that this was the third time she’d dreamt of Julian and his kiss since his return to Shropshire.

Ah, Julian. She sighed his name and extended her limbs in a long and languid feline stretch. He’d appeared out of the blue, arriving without the least concern that he’d interrupted the frenzy of wedding fever that had once more struck her family. But that was Julian, never a care or a thought beyond himself. She supposed it was the natural consequence of his careless upbringing. Still, she had been indescribably happy to see the feckless rogue.

Julian’s return wasn’t the sole source of her joy. Today marked her twenty-first birthday. Surely the sunshine that now greeted her after weeks of dismal and dreary days was a good omen of things to come.

Henrietta sprang from her bed as her maid entered the chamber to light the fire. “You need not bother with that, Millie,” Henrietta said. “The day is fair, and I don’t plan to spend it in my room.”

“Ye wish to go out, then, Miss?”

“Yes, I do,” Henrietta replied eagerly. Knowing Harry would be occupied all day with Penelope, Henrietta hoped Julian would be free to join her on her morning ride. It had been many years since they’d raced one another over the dales. “I’ll take a short ride this morning, after which, we shall begin packing.”

“Packing, Miss? Where are ye going?” Millie asked.

“I’m off to London tomorrow to visit my great aunt,” Henrietta exclaimed.

The family at large disapproved of Lady Cheswick, who had been quite a notorious woman in her youth. Her great wealth, however, ensured they kept their sentiments private—especially since she’d sponsored all six of the Houghton girls’ debuts, and contributed sizeable sums to augment their dowries. Henrietta’s sisters had all achieved respectable matches during their respective London seasons, but only Henrietta had attained favor with the old woman. The recent invitation was further testimony of her goodwill toward her youngest great-niece.

In contrast to her older sisters, who were easily shocked, Henrietta had been fascinated by Lady Cheswick’s salacious tales. Perhaps that’s why the dowager had taken such a liking to her. Although Henrietta had received several invitations from her aunt since her debut, familial obligations had always kept her at home. But now, having reached the age of majority, she could finally make her own decisions, the trip to London being the first of those.

“Would you like to accompany me, Millie?”