The Redemption of Julian Price(19)

“But it doesn’t matter if I want him or not. I am not the least inclined to set my cap for someone who does not want me.”

Lady Cheswick ignored her rebuttal. “If you have quite decided you don’t want Julian, you will have no dearth of marital prospects once word gets about that you’ve become an heiress.”

“An heiress?” Henrietta repeated blankly. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Five hundred pounds is a paltry dowry, but I’m quite certain ten thousand is sufficient to entice even a minor nobleman. Perhaps a baronet or even a viscount?” she suggested.

“You are giving me ten thousand pounds?” Henrietta repeated incredulously. It was a fortune that could grant the dream of independence she’d always desired.

“Yes. And you will receive considerably more upon my passing,” Lady Cheswick continued, “but let us keep that part a secret between you, me, and my solicitor. We don’t wish to unearth every gold digger in England.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Henrietta whispered, her mind racing.

Lady Cheswick patted her hand. “I merely give you options you didn’t have before. Ultimately, my dear, the choice is now completely yours.”

***

Henrietta spent a restless night, deliberating this new and unexpected course her life had taken. Thanks to the generosity of her exceedingly wealthy and overly indulgent great-aunt, her dream of independence could soon become reality. But for the first time, she considered the facts rather than just the fantasy and found it lacking. As a widow, Lady Cheswick could do as she pleased, but unmarried women could not live alone. Even with a fortune at her disposal, if Henrietta chose not to wed, she would have little choice but to remain with her aunt or set up her own household with a paid companion. Neither option permitted the full freedom she’d always envisioned.

She was suddenly reminded of Julian’s careless remark. “It is indeed too bad you weren’t a chap, Hen. We rub along well enough that I would have invited you to stay with me.”

“Julian,” she sighed his name. Why had she been so angry with him? At least he was honest with her. She’d told herself it was disappointment that he’d followed in Winston’s footsteps, but that wasn’t the entire truth. Deep in her heart, she was jealous that another woman had laid claim to his affections. She knew he cared for her, but sisterly devotion wasn’t enough.

Her dreams that night were once more filled with Julian, but this time he wasn’t stealing a kiss from her at the fair or galloping hell for leather over the dales. Instead, he was lying alone on a battlefield covered in blood. She awoke with a gasp. Was it merely a dream or an ominous premonition? Had he survived six years only to die a mercenary’s death in Portugal?

The thought sent a sharp, stabbing pain deep into her left breast. Although they’d parted in anger, she couldn’t let him go without trying to help him. All the money in the kingdom meant nothing compared to the prospect of losing Julian. Whatever it took, she had to convince him to stay.





CHAPTER FIVE


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JULIAN ARRIVED AT WINSTON’S TOWN HOUSE in St. James, disheveled and disconsolate following a particularly unpleasant meeting with his solicitor that had followed on the heels of an equally distasteful meeting with his banker. There was no hope. Everything he owned was about to go up on the auction block. He was prepared to down himself in a bottle until his valet, Gibbs, met him at the door with a censorious look.

“There is a young woman come to call on you, sir. I told her you were not at home, but she was most insistent.”

“A young woman?” Muriel? “Did she give her name, Gibbs?”

“She did not. But she arrived in a rather large bright yellow conveyance.”

“Yellow?” Who did he know with a yellow carriage? Not Muriel, unless she’d found another protector—one with particularly garish taste. No one else sprang to mind. “Where is she, Gibbs?”

“She waits in your study, sir,” he replied with a sniff of disapproval.

“Very well. I shall attend her there.” Pausing at the mirror, Julian raked his fingers through his overlong hair and attempted to straighten his cravat. Both efforts were in vain. His visitor would have to accept him as he presented. Still wondering who it could be, he strode across the marble tiles and flung open the door to his study.

The figure in pale blue muslin jumped to her feet. “Julian! You startled me.”

“Henrietta?” he gaped. “What the devil are you doing here? Your arrival has wreaked total havoc with Gibbs’ sensibilities. Don’t you know that it’s unseemly for a female to call alone upon a bachelor?”

“I’m so sorry. I tried to be discreet.”

“Discreet?” Julian shook his head with a laugh. “Did you truly presume to go unnoticed in a bright yellow carriage?”

Henrietta colored. “My aunt would not let me go out in a private hack.”

“She knows you came here?”

She bit her lip. “Not precisely. She thinks I went shopping. Millie came with me, but I asked her to wait in the carriage. I needed to see you privately.”

“I’m not in a proper frame of mind for entertaining, Henrietta, especially someone who should not be here in the first place.”