Read The Redemption of Julian Price Online

Authors: Victoria Vane

Tags: #Friends to lovers, #marriage of convenience, #wounded warriors, #spinter, #rake

The Redemption of Julian Price (12 page)

“Yes! That’s the one!” the old woman exclaimed. “And here is another!” She handed Henrietta a volume entitled
Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure
. “If you wish to be educated in the pleasures of the flesh, you will find these most edifying. Even better,” she added with a cackle, “if it is his passion you wish to inflame—read them to Julian.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Henrietta accepted the books with a tremulous smile.

“All will be well, child,” Lady Cheswick reassured with a wink. “Now be off with you! It is bad form to keep your bridegroom waiting.” Lady Cheswick offered her cheek for a farewell buss. “Godspeed to you, child. I shall expect to be edified with all of the sordid details when next you return to London.”

“Good-bye, my lady. And thank you.” Henrietta took her leave from her aunt’s bedchamber with her heartbeat accelerating a little more as she approached the grand spiral staircase and Julian waiting below.

***

W
hat the devil was taking her so long? Julian paced the marble-tiled foyer with long, impatient strides. Had she changed her mind after all? He almost wished she had—for her sake. He feared she had no idea what a devil’s bargain she had made in taking him as her husband. Until this moment, he’d thought himself an empty shell, devoid of hope. His future had seemed as elusive to him as the dreams of his youth. But Henrietta’s proposal had given him back the hope he’d lost. She offered him salvation—not just of his fortune, but of his very soul.

He’d told himself all along that he would never be worthy of her, that he could never measure up to Thomas, but he hadn’t realized how essential she was to him, how much he needed her. With her by his side, he had new faith that he could finally bury the past, and discover his future.

He glanced up at the top of the stairs to find her dressed to travel in her bonnet and pelisse. He studied her every movement as she descended the stairs. She was so much lovelier than he remembered from only a few days ago. Why had he ever thought her anything less than beautiful? Poised on the landing, she looked down at him and froze.

His chest seized as he read the hesitation in her soft gray eyes. Was she having second thoughts? Her gaze met his and held for an endless and excruciating heartbeat before her lips broke into a soft smile, a smile that radiated the welcoming warmth his soul craved.

Julian inhaled and moved toward her, feeling suddenly as if he had reason to breathe again. Meeting her at the bottom stair, he took her gloved hand in his. “So you still have not begged off?”

“No, Julian, I have not.” Her fascinating mouth twitched. “You accepted my proposal, so I shall hold you to it—till death do us part.”

“Very well, then,” he declared, matching her playful solemnity. “You have just sealed your fate.” He executed an exaggerated bow complete with a Continental flourish. “Your canary carriage awaits.”

“Lady Cheswick’s carriage?” Henrietta asked in surprise. “What of your phaeton?”

“I sold it two days ago,” he replied. “I had set out to hire a vehicle for our journey when Lady Cheswick offered hers.”

“I thoroughly approve of your economy,” Henrietta said. “I am confident that together we will weather the storm.”

“I pray you don’t drown with me instead,” he remarked dryly.

His heart lightened, Julian handed Henrietta into the carriage as the footman secured the baggage and then assisted Millie onto the driver’s seat. A moment later, he joined her inside the cavernous conveyance. He gave a sound rap on the roof and the vehicle jolted into motion. They set off at a brisk pace, but even Achilles’ Balius and Xanthus wouldn’t have been fleet enough to satisfy his eagerness to reach their destination.

Julian stretched out his legs and settled back against the crimson velvet squabs while Henrietta sat across from him rigid and upright, nervously plucking at her gloves. “Is something on your mind, Henrietta?” he gently prodded.

She heaved a martyr’s a sigh. “It’s just that I despise long journeys. I hate the confinement. I think I would have preferred your phaeton.”

“Even though I didn’t let you drive it?” he teased. Her mouth gave another twitch that suddenly made him want to kiss it. He briefly fantasized about doing precisely that—pulling her onto his lap and kissing her senseless. It would surely be more diverting to her than staring out the window at London traffic.

She glanced up, caught him looking at her, and hastily averted her gaze again. It had always been so comfortable and easy between them. Why this sudden damnable awkwardness? It seemed strange to him to be conforming to the code of proper conduct knowing they would soon be joined as one—at least in the legal sense.

He wondered if, in time, she might be gently persuaded to accept conjugal relations with him. When he’d broken with Muriel, he’d vowed to be faithful to Henrietta. He prayed that weakness of the flesh, one of his chief failings, would never cause him to falter. He’d rather cut his own heart out than hurt Henrietta.

“Julian?” she almost whispered his name. “There’s something important we need to discuss. I’ve had time to consider the terms of our . . . arrangement.”

Bloody hell!
The hollow sensation in his chest returned with a vengeance. “If you are having second thoughts, Henrietta,” he managed a bland reply, “I will not hold you to our bargain. I have no qualms about turning the coach around.”

“No! I’m not having second thoughts about wedding you, Julian.” She licked her lips and once more gazed down at her hands. “I speak of the terms we agreed upon in regard to consummation. I think I may have spoken rashly.”

“Go on,” he encouraged, his pulse accelerating.

“It’s just . . . we really didn’t discuss children. I think now that I would very much like to have a child.” She glanced up, her expression uncertain. “That is, if you do not object.”

“Object? Why the devil would you think I’d object?” Coming from a large family, he’d assumed that she would desire to have children but had feared she didn’t wish to bear his. “I lost my entire family, Hen. I’d give you a dozen brats if it would please you.”

“You would?” she replied with a look of surprise.

“Yes,” he replied, his gaze holding hers. So she was willing after all? Thank God he no longer had to face the prospect of a celibate marriage. Yet his joy was tempered by the knowledge that she desired his seed rather than his passion. “You do understand exactly what is required to conceive them?” he asked, watching her intently.

Her gaze flitted to him and then darted to the window. “Of course I do.”

“Procreation does not always occur quickly, Henrietta. It can require substantial effort.”

“I’m aware of that as well,” she said.

“Then you are willing for us to share a bed?”

“Yes, Julian. I am,” she whispered, a flicker of wistfulness in her eyes that incited a sudden ache in his chest. “But only if I am the
only
one you share it with.”

Her words were a knife that twisted deep in his gut. Did she really think so little of him? “Do you think I intend to be unfaithful to you?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she said. “We never discussed it.”

He shut his eyes on a stream of mumbled curses.

“That’s why I had to speak up,” she continued, “and why I had to go . . .” She bit her lip with a guilty look.

What the devil had she done? “Go
where
, Henrietta?” he prompted her softly.

“You won’t like it if I tell you.”

“I already don’t like it,” he growled. “What are you keeping from me?”

***

H
enrietta drew a breath and balled her hands into fists, braced for Julian’s anger. “I went to see her,” she blurted.

“Excuse me?” He shook his head with a look of confusion.

“Your mistress, Julian. I wanted to meet her.”

He gaped in disbelief. “You did what?”

“There were things I needed to know.”

“Bloody hell!” He glowered. “What kinds of things?”

“I needed to know if you intended to keep her . . . and if you loved her.”

It took all the courage she possessed to make her confession, but she could not enter into this union under false pretenses or harboring futile hopes. It would be far better to live with reality and make the best of it than to pine in silence and die a little each day for what she could never have.

“If you had concerns about that, why the devil didn’t you just ask
me
?”

“I was afraid you might not be truthful.”

“I would never lie to you, Hen. Don’t you know that?”

“I do now,” she replied softly. “Everything you told me was true.”

He surprised her with a dry chuckle. “I would like to have been a fly on
that
wall. Is your damnable curiosity satisfied now?”

“Not quite,” she replied. “I asked her other things that she refused to answer.”

His gaze narrowed. “What kind of things?”

“Indelicate things. Things that only your mistress would know.”

“Indeed?” he encouraged, brow cocked.

Henrietta held his gaze, though she trembled inside. “I don’t want a
convenient
marriage, Julian,” she continued, her throat growing tight with mixed hope and fear. “I know you have always been fond of me, but I want more than that. I want to be a true wife to you . . . in every sense of the word. I wanted to know how to please you, Julian. I wanted to know if I could make you love me.” Her heart leaped into her throat as he moved from his seat to take her into his arms.

“My God, Hen,” he groaned. “How can you say those things and expect me to conduct myself as a gentleman?”

Her gaze held his. “Who says I want you to act like a gentleman?”

She’d barely got the words out before his mouth ravaged hers with a hot, hungry ferocity that made her insides quiver. He pulled her onto his lap. She shut her eyes on a blissful moan and threw herself headlong into the kiss. He really wanted her? The bulge tenting his breeches told her he did. His masterful tongue teased and tangled with hers while she eagerly followed his lead. She felt instantly bereft as his lips broke from hers to draw her down onto the seat. But then they returned to burn a blazing trail of pleasure down her throat. He went lower still, kissing the exposed tops of her breasts. “Tell me to stop, Henrietta,” he said, his breath hot and humid against her skin.

“Don’t stop, Julian,” she whispered. The carriage gave a jolt that nearly knocked them from the seat.

“This is a damnable place to be doing this,” he cursed. “We should wait. You deserve a ring and a bed, Hen.”

“Is that what you want? To wait?” she said, biting her lip in disappointment. She’d waited her entire lifetime for this. She didn’t care where they were as long as she was with him.

“I don’t want you to think I’m a rutting beast,” he said, not quite answering the question.

“Why would I?” she asked. “Do you consider me a wanton for desiring your touch and your kisses?”

“That would not be a bad thing, Hen. I would be most pleased to discover that you are a wanton. Nothing inspires a man’s desire more than a woman who embraces her passion. Indeed, if you truly wish to please me, you will allow me to discover what pleases you.”

“But I don’t even know,” she said breathlessly, shivering as he cupped her breast and caressed the exposed portion with smooth strokes of his thumb. “I’ve never even been properly kissed until now.”

He froze. “Never?”

“No, not unless we count the tavern.”

“Then it wasn’t a dream? I really did accost you?”

“No. The brute in the tavern accosted me. You merely kissed me.”

“And
that
was your first kiss?”

“Yes.”

“Are you saying Thomas never kissed you?”

“No,” she said. “Not once. Not even good-bye.”

Julian pulled back with an incredulous look. “Let me get this straight, you were going to wed a man who’d never even kissed you?”

“Yes,” she confessed, “but only because the one I really wanted hadn’t kissed me either.”

“The one you
wanted
?” he repeated blankly. “Not Thomas?”

“No,” she said softly. “Not Thomas. I loved him more like a brother, but I would have wed him anyway because he asked me.”

“You
weren’t
in love with him?”

“No, Julian. I was in love with you,” she replied softly, her gaze seeking his. “I have always loved you. I don’t expect you to say it back,” she blurted, noting the flare of panic in his eyes. “I know you have always been fond of me. That is enough for now. Maybe, in time, it will become more.”

“Do you honestly have no idea how I feel about you?” he asked. “I’ve had prurient thoughts about you since that day you took a swim in your invisible shift.”

“It wasn’t invisible,” she insisted.

“It may as well have been,” he replied, resuming his caresses.

“But you told me that was just a natural reaction that all men have,” she said.

“It was a natural reaction at the time,” he confessed, “but that vision of you stayed with me for years. I pleasured myself many times imagining you in that wet shift, and I have fantasized many times about how you would look in it now that you’ve come into the full bloom of your womanhood.”

She swallowed hard. “You have?”

“Yes. Have you ever pleasured yourself, Henrietta?” he asked, his brown eyes darkening almost to black as he slipped a hand under her skirts and skimmed it lightly up her calf. Her pulse hammered in her throat as it slid to the inside of her thigh and then crept higher.

“You haven’t answered me,” he said.

Her breath hitched as he approached that throbbing place that now beat in tempo with her racing heart. “N-no,” she replied shakily. “I haven’t.”

“Would you like me to pleasure you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she released on a long breath.

“I won’t take you until we wed,” he said. “You have my promise on that, but I wish to touch and taste you, Henrietta. I want to discover how to please you.”

“Taste?” she repeated. “You mean kiss?”

“Yes,” he replied, adding darkly, “the most intimate kind of kiss.”

She didn’t fully understand his meaning, but his tone alone sent ripples of sensation deep into her belly. Before she could ask him to explain, he kissed her again, but this time slowly, deeply, his lips and tongue tracing, teasing, and exploring her mouth as his fingers traced and teased the sensitive, fleshy folds between her thighs. She sucked in a gasp at the shocking sensation of his long and knowing fingers sliding into her wetness. He moved back down to her breast, rooting in her bodice and tugging at her stays until he freed a nipple that he took eagerly into his mouth.

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