The Redemption of Julian Price

by Victoria Vane

  "Are you not?" she asked, somewhat surprised by his candor. "I never would have guessed."

  He shrugged. "One quickly learns the need to be entertaining."

  "I don't believe I possess such a talent," she said.

  "Surely you only need the guidance of one who is more experienced. Of course, you already have the advantage of Lady Russell's acquaintance."

  "We are only newly associated," Mariah said. "Through Lydia. I have no other connections in London, and few even at home."

  "Do not feel yourself at a disadvantage, my lady. I have an unusually wide circle of acquaintances, but my true friends are very few.” He continued with a dry laugh, "Taken as a whole, I am less than ideally suited for a career in diplomacy."

  "Then why did you choose it?" she asked.

  "I didn't precisely seek it out. I had set my sights long ago on a post in the Office of the Exchequer."

  "The Exchequer?" she repeated with surprise.

  "You think it sounds dull?" He laughed then, a warm and rumbling sound that tickled her ears. "I suppose it does to most people, but I have always had a remarkable aptitude for numbers and had aspirations of one day achieving a cabinet post."

  "An admirable ambition," Mariah said.

  "But it wasn't to be," he replied with a sigh. "Attaining such a position is nearly impossible without patronage."

  "Patronage? What do you mean?"

  "I mean that government posts, even lowly clerkships, are rarely granted according to a man's ability, but rather according to their social and political connections, of which I had few. I next thought to seek out a position as an estate factor, but then Marcus secured his diplomatic position and asked me to assist him."

  "You have done this for six years, but you don't enjoy it?"

  "I enjoy some aspects of the job, but I am an Englishman and miss my own country."

  "I think I would as well," she said. "I would very much love to travel, but I am certain I would not like to be away for a lengthy period. Now that you are home again, how long will you stay?"

  "That depends very much upon the outcome of the house party."

  "I don't understand the connection."

  "You may be aware that there is a forthcoming peace congress. We and our allies are to meet with the French at Aix-la-Chappelle in hope of ending this pointless war. The delegates will be announced at some point during the party."

  "Lady Russell mentioned that Lord Marcus desires to be chosen."

  "Yes, but there are others who also perceive this as the ideal opportunity to make their careers. Marcus's chief rival is Edward Montagu, who just happens to be Lord Sandwich's nephew. As Secretary for the Southern Department, the selection really should fall to the Duke of Bedford, but he's far more enamored of cricket than matters of state. Were it up to the duke, he would probably choose the best cricket players."

  "How absurd!" she declared. "I can hardly countenance that our ministry could be run by such frivolous methods."

  He shrugged. "When the vast majority of the power is in the hands of the few, there is no one to govern the whims of those who rule."

  "You sound as if you would change it."

  "I would," he said, "were it within my power to do so. But as it is, I have no voice. I suspect, however, that the duke will permit Lord Sandwich, as the plenipotentiary, to choose his own people."

  "Lady Russell seems to think Lydia can help Marcus in his career."

  "Although statecraft is a man's game, one should never underestimate the influence of women. In truth, foreign policy is shaped as often in the bedchamber as in the council chamber." He flushed. "I pray you will pardon my indelicate remarks."

  "I take no offense at frank speech, Mr. Needham. In truth, I prefer it to guessing what people really mean."

  He smiled warmly. "Your candor is most refreshing after my years in diplomatic circles, where people take disingenuousness to an art form."

  "Is Lord Marcus such a man?" she asked.

  His gaze narrowed. "What do you mean?"

  "I care greatly for Lydia. She has already been hurt deeply by Lord Marcus. One can't help but question his sincerity. She waited six years for him, and only now that she's decided to call it off does he show any interest in wedding her. Is this all just a game to him, Mr. Needham?"

  He considered the question. "Mayhap it was a game at first, but I think it all changed once he saw her again. I believe his desire to win her back is genuine, although his means of doing so may leave much to be desired."

  "His means?" The hairs on her nape instantly rose. "What are you saying, Mr. Needham?"

  "Let us say that Marcus ascribes wholeheartedly to the belief that all is fair in love and war."

  "Love?" Mariah pulled back with a frown. "Is it true? Do you really believe he loves her?"

  "In the years I have known Marcus, I have never seen him so obsessed."

  "If that is so, why did he wait so long?"

  "Because was too young and immature. Furthermore, he resented the arranged marriage. Had they wed sooner, it would have been an unmitigated disaster."

  "Why would you think he's ready now? Has he changed so very much?"

  "Yes, I believe he has. Marcus is still Marcus, but his wild streak has tempered. Moreover, whether he realizes it yet or not, I believe Marcus is indeed in love with Miss Trent."

  "That sheds quite a different light on matters, doesn't it?" Mariah said.

  "Marcus does not like to be thwarted. He is formidably single-minded when he wants something. One might call him an unstoppable force."

  "And Lydia is the immovable object. How do you suppose it will end?"

  He shook his head with a sigh. "Either very well or very badly. After six hours together in the coach, I daresay they will come to some sort of understanding."

  Lydia had given up on Marcus in the belief that he didn't want her, but if what Mr. Needham said was true, and the love match Lydia had always dreamt of was more than just a dream, she hoped Lydia would find it in her heart to forgive Marcus.

  "What of you, Mr. Needham?" Gaze downcast, Mariah began plucking the fingers of her gloves. "Do you ever think of marriage?"

  "I do not," he replied. "To do so would be pointless."

  She forced her gaze upward to search his eyes. "Why is that? Do you not desire a home . . . a family?"

  "It's not lack of desire, my lady, but lack of means. I have no title, property, or fortune."

  "I have all of those," Mariah replied. "I am heir to a title and estate in my own right, along with a significant fortune, and it's been nothing but a curse."

  "Why do you say so?" he asked softly.

  "Because all heiresses are beautiful," she replied dryly, wondering if he would recognize the Dryden quote. His thin smile said he did. "I fear becoming a target of fortune hunters. I do wish to marry one day, but I don't want to be the means to an end. I hope to find someone who will care for me, not just my wealth and property."

  "You are wise to be wary. There are many unscrupulous men in the world, those who would go to extreme measures to gain what you have. I even fear you may be entering the wolves’ den."

  "How so?"

  "Many of the duke's guests will be younger sons who bear courtesy titles but have no property or means outside of the diplomatic corps. I warn you to take great care with such men."

  "Did you not just describe yourself, Mr. Needham?"

  "No, my lady. The difference is that I would never presume to pay suit to a lady when I have nothing to offer her."

  Never? Mariah's heart gave a painful squeeze. "You believe you have nothing to offer? I beg to differ with you. You are well bred, are you not? You are also young, intelligent, and ambitious." She barely caught herself from adding handsome to his list of attributes. Although she found it increasingly difficult to ignore his good looks, it was hardly relevant to the discussion. "Many men in like positions to yours have achieved greatness without having been born into it."

  "My lady,
while I consider myself a competent and sensible man, I do not delude myself with visions of grandeur. To do so would be needless torture."

  "But didn't you say that you once hoped to achieve a ministry post?"

  "That was before I fully understood the workings of the machine," he said.

  She marveled that the men in charge of the government could be such self-aggrandizing fools that they refused to recognize a man for his true worth. Then again, she hadn't enough experience of such men or matters to know.

  "But now that you do understand, is there not a way to work this so-called machine in your favor?" she asked.

  "How do you mean?"

  "You said earlier that the Duke of Bedford is fond of cricket. Do you play?"

  "I have little time for sporting pursuits."

  Mariah slanted her gaze upward and replied with a smile, "But if patronage is indeed how the wheels of this machine turn, perhaps, Mr. Needham, you should take up the game?"

  ***

  Nick considered her for a long, silent moment. It wasn't the actual remark she had made, but the look that accompanied it. He was certain she was unaware of it, but the seductive wood nymph had reappeared. There was something mesmerizing about the angle of her head, the way she pursed her lips, and the stray curl that had entangled itself about her ear that made him suddenly want to touch her. The urge was so powerful he had to close his hands against it. "I used to play," he replied. "Back in my university days."

  "And I used to play the harpsichord," she said, "but I was never any good. So now I must ask, were you good, Mr. Needham?"

  "I was one of the better batsmen," he replied. "I frequently hit over the boundary."

  "Indeed?" Her eyes challenged as her gaze held his. "Then one wonders if you still possess talent with your bat or if it has diminished with disuse."

  Nick shifted in his seat. If this were any other woman of his acquaintance, he would have no doubt of the sexual innuendo, but he was as certain as he lived and breathed that the "bat" to which Lady Mariah referred was merely the club made of willow. "I don't know. I haven't held a cricket bat in over five years," he said.

  As to the other, at the moment he was absolutely certain it had not suffered from prolonged disuse. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been with a woman, probably over a year ago at the preliminary peace talks in Breda. Given their success in setting the stage for a treaty, he'd indulged in a rare spree of celebratory dissipation.

  Nick had never had a mistress. He'd never even entertained thoughts of keeping a woman for pleasure, for the very same reason he'd never contemplated marriage—because he was man of extremely limited means. His only hope to improve his circumstances would be advancement in the diplomatic corps, which meant endless work and constant travel. He'd long ago accepted that work would fill his hours and emptiness would be his constant bedmate—a dismal future indeed.

  "I wonder what sort of man you are, Mr. Needham," she said. "Are you content to cheer the team on, or will you secretly be itching to best them?"

  "Are you dropping the gauntlet, Lady Mariah?" He smiled. "Let us say that Marcus is not the only one who hates to lose."

  "Neither do I. I am also possessed of a competitive nature, especially at cards," she confessed with a grin. "I would love to watch you play cricket."

  "Given the duke's fondness for the sport, no doubt the opportunity will present. Do you really enjoy the game?"

  "I do. I even played a bit when I was a girl. I was a tolerable bowler, but I could never quite master batting. I don't know if it was poor timing, the size of the bat, or the weakness of my stroke, but I always pitied my fellow batsman."

  "The size of the bat matters little as long as one employs proper timing and a forceful stroke. Ideally, the two batsmen should be in perfect synchrony as they come together." Nick almost groaned at the innuendo in his own words.

  "Indeed? Do you suppose you could teach me?" She smiled up at him again before dropping her blue-green gaze. "I suppose I shouldn't presume to monopolize your time. I know that you must attend to your business rather than my pleasure."

  Her pleasure. Nicolas shut his eyes on a sudden image of Mariah lost in the throes of ecstasy.

  "Is something wrong, Mr. Needham?" she asked.

  "No, my lady," he replied. Unable to resist any longer, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I would take great delight in making my business your pleasure."

  ****

  END EXCERPT

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  ABOUT VICTORIA VANE

  VICTORIA VANE is a #1 bestselling and award-winning author of smart and sexy romance. Her works range from comedic romps to emotionally compelling erotic romance and have received over twenty awards and nominations to include: a 2015 Red Carpet Finalist for Best Contemporary romance (Slow Hand), 2014 RONE Winner for Best Historical Post Medieval Romance (Treacherous Temptations), and Library Journal Best E-Book romance of 2012 (The Devil DeVere series). She currently resides in Palm Coast, Florida with her husband, two sons, a little black dog, and an Arabian horse.

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  Did you love The Redemption of Julian Price? Then you should read A Pledge of Passion by Victoria Vane!

  Only a madman makes a promise in the heat of passion... During a midnight tryst in a moonlit garden, Nicolas Needham fell in love—only to walk away. As a younger son with few connections, his pride demanded that he better his circumstances before paying his suit to Lady Mariah. When Nicolas is finally given the opportunity he needs to advance—by negotiating a contract of matrimony on the British Envoy’s behalf—he is shocked to learn that the intended bride is the same woman to whom he once pledged himself.

  And only a fool believes him.... Lady Mariah Morehaven has lived a quiet, almost reclusive life in the country. While she accepts that marriage is her unavoidable destiny, as a baroness in her own right, and heir to one of the oldest and land-rich estates in England, she fears becoming the target of fortune hunters. Entrusting her cousin’s well-connected godmother to help her find a suitable match, Mariah is devastated to discover that the man sent to negotiate for her hand is the very same who broke her heart.

  Read more at Victoria Vane’s site.