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    Juliana
    Juliana
    Juliana
    Ebook155 pages2 hours

    Juliana

    By Blair Bancroft

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    About this ebook

    Author's Note: The Aphrodite Academy series tells stories about women who need second chances. Some, even third chances. These women are not the privileged and pampered, but women to whom life has not been kind. The language is frank and saucy, but the stories are driven by character and plot, not sexual content. Although Juliana is a stand-alone novella, you will likely appreciate the story more if you read Belle, Cecilia, and Holly first.

    The story: Juliana, an innocent bride, marries a charming, insouciant gentleman who promptly sets about teaching her all aspects of love, not just those generally practiced in Regency bedchambers. At some she draws the line, but when her husband adds Darius Wolfe, his man of business, to the mix, she finally learns the meaning of love. Yet happiness remains elusive. When Juliana's husband is killed in a duel, instead of being freed, she is haunted by memories of her role in ménage à trois and is unable to move forward into a brighter world. She sets up a school to provide second chances for young women who have gone astray, yet six celibate years go by with her relationship to Darius Wolfe unresolved. Even after her friends band together to help her, the possibility of a happy ending remains doubtful.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBlair Bancroft
    Release dateJul 1, 2015
    ISBN9780996188715
    Juliana
    Author

    Blair Bancroft

    Blair Bancroft recalls receiving odd looks from adults as she walked home from school at age seven, her lips moving as she told herself stories. And there was never a night she didn't entertain herself with her own bedtime stories. But it was only after a variety of other careers that she turned to serious writing. Blair has been a music teacher, professional singer, non-fiction editor, costume designer, and real estate agent. She has traveled from Bratsk, Siberia, to Machu Picchu, Peru, and made numerous visits to Europe, Britain, and Ireland. She is now attempting to incorporate all these varied experiences into her writing. Blair's first book, TARLETON'S WIFE, won RWA's Golden Heart and the Best Romance award from the Florida Writers' Association. Her romantic suspense novel, SHADOWED PARADISE, and her Young Adult Medieval, ROSES IN THE MIST, were finalists for an EPPIE, the "Oscar" of the e-book industry. Blair's Regency, THE INDIFFERENT EARL, was chosen as Best Regency by Romantic Times magazine and was a finalist for RWA's RITA award. Blair believes variety is the spice of life. Her recent books include Historical Romance, Romantic Suspense, Mystery, Thrillers, and Steampunk, all available at Smashwords. A long-time resident of Florida, Blair fondly recalls growing up in Connecticut, which still has a piece of her heart.

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      Book preview

      Juliana - Blair Bancroft

      Juliana

      by Blair Bancroft

      Published by Kone Enterprises

      at Smashwords

      Copyright 2015 by Grace Ann Kone

      For other books by Blair Bancroft,

      please see http://www.blairbancroft.com

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

      Chapter One

      Thornhill Manor on the Thames

      Spring 1819

      She was not speaking to Darius.

      Again.

      Juliana, Baroness Rivenhall, sat on a white marble bench in the gardens of Thornhill Manor and gazed across an expanse of lawn toward the traffic on the Thames, now becoming more sparse as dusk approached. She had hoped the beauty and tranquility of the view would soothe her anguish. Instead, her moments of contemplation seemed to have increased her despair from a persistent miasma to an overwhelming flood.

      Holly, the most unlikely graduate in the history of the Aphrodite Academy, had just popped out her third child, a son and heir for her sea captain husband. Belle’s babe, eventual heir to an earldom, had passed his first birthday. And Cecilia? Well, at least she was married, though one could perhaps not go so far as to term her respectably married. She was, after all, the wife of Nick Black, the notorious king of London’s Underworld. And not yet a mother. As the months passed with no sign of a baby Black, it was clear Cecy’s natural buoyancy had dimmed a bit.

      And only Juliana could truly understand her anguish. They both wanted a child. But Juliana’s case was far more hopeless. In time a child would come for Cecy. But for a widow who refused to re-marry . . .? A widow who plunged from her honored place in society when she set up a school for courtesans . . .? A widow to whom enough of her upbringing still clung that she stubbornly refused to use Darius for stud service . . .

      Just as she kept refusing his offers of marriage.

      What a quarrel they’d had, not a fortnight ago. It had begun quietly enough, with Darius entering Thornhill Manor—where males were forbidden—in his usual surreptitious manner, slipping through the ancient tunnel from the boathouse to the cellars of the sprawling house constructed in Tudor times. He’d found her slumped on her blue and green brocade sofa, feeling abjectly sorry for herself.

      Good God, woman, are you still from suffering the glooms?

      Horrified by his sudden appearance at her moment of weakness, she had pinned him with a glare, hoping the candlelight was dim enough to conceal the desolation ravaging her face. I saw them in the park today, she admitted. Holly and her brood, with the captain driving a fine new barouche.

      I hear he’s set up an office for Kincade shipping. His next voyage is to be his last. Royce Kincade, family man. Who would have guessed?

      Your bosom friend, Nick Black, it would seem. Juliana’s sharp retort jabbed through the tension that seemed to fill every moment of their recent meetings.

      A wiser man than I, Darius agreed with deceptive gentleness. For he has managed to marry his love, as have the captain and Ashford. In fact, your students have done remarkably well for themselves, my Jewel. The question is, when do you plan to sample a bit of happiness for yourself?

      I am more than content with my life.

      Oh, I don’t think so, Darius murmured A babe’s the only thing to wipe away that hangdog look. And I know exactly how to go about acquiring one.

      A shiver rippled up her spine as his quizzical smile dissolved into determined intent. This time, Juliana feared, Darius was not going to take no for an answer.

      This was it then. He would take advantage of her vulnerability, of this low point in her life. He was a man of business, after all. Outstandingly successful because he pounced on the least crack in people’s armor and turned it to his advantage. Why should she be any different?

      Darius Wolfe. She had known him almost as long as she’d known her husband. And for a period of three years, just as intimately.

      More intimately.

      Yet never a child. She often wondered if it was guilt that had kept her barren. For even after she grew accustomed to ménage and Geoffrey’s frequent voyeurism, even when she and Darius had been swept by the heights of passion, she had known what they were doing was wrong. At least, for her it was wrong.

      Somehow, while her thoughts wandered into the past, Darius had whisked her into her bedchamber, his lips were on hers, their bodies pressed so tightly together she could feel his arousal stiffening into rock-hard solidity . . .

      Memories engulfed her. Oh dear God, it was all coming back. The breathlessness, the surge of need, the desire to re-discover every inch of him, to open herself to him. To indulge in passion ’til the sun came up. And perhaps all day tomorrow as well. Losing herself in Darius. Best friend. Lover. Would-be father.

      Darius. The true love she’d thought to find in Geoffrey—before she realized her husband loved the whole world, male and female. That he would forever devote his life to discovering how many he could physically embrace and in how many different ways.

      In a jarring shift of vision, a drift of cool air tumbled her wandering thoughts back to the present. She and Darius were standing between her bed and the door, she stripped down to her chemise, he to his bulging drawers. A delicious warmth drove out her shivers. He had always been deft at peeling off her clothes, though he was clearly finding it more difficult to peel off the protective layers marriage to Geoffrey had forced her to construct.

      But yes—oh dear God—this was Darius. Why had she denied him for so long?

      His dark eyes asked no permission to kiss her, for she was already his. As his lips met hers, he cupped her bottom, pressing her into his erection. Juliana looped her arms around his neck and hung on tight, her head whirling with almost forgotten lust. It had been so long, so agonizingly long.

      And then she saw Geoffrey. Sitting in the wingchair by the fireplace. Twirling a glass of brandy in his fingers. Watching, always watching.

      He could not be there, of course, she knew that. Was that not why she had built this new wing? Geoffrey had never been in this room. And yet she could see him, staring, a smile curling his lips as he watched his best friend make love to his wife. As he’d done so many times before. And enjoyed it, damn him! Reveled in it.

      No! Juliana spun away from the mouth that was now suckling her left breast. "I can’t, I can’t! He’s here with us, I can feel him."

      Devil it, Jewel, don’t be absurd! Darius closed the distance she’d put between them, sweeping her back into his arms, holding her tight, almost as if he thought to squeeze such nonsense out of her.

      I’ll never be free. Never, she whispered, her lips grazing his bare chest. I can’t do this, Darius. Not even for a baby.

      It’s this house, he growled. Come away with me, Jewel. Brighton, the Lake Country . . . Scotland. If you don’t own a property that suits you, we’ll buy a new one. Or we can go to Paris—how would you like that? Or do you have a desire to see the wonders of ancient Greece? Good Lord, girl, you know quite well money is no obstacle. Name the place, and we’ll go—

      No. Flat, uncompromising.

      He took her by the shoulders, shoved her back, examining her face. Her soul. Jewel, don’t let him do this to you. Geoffrey wasn’t evil, you know that. He couldn’t help the way he was. He might have been your husband, but he has no rights over you now. We’re the ones who are still alive, the ones who have loved each other for so very long. We have to find a way to make this work.

      Go away, Darius. Dull, defeated. Juliana heard herself and cringed. Yet somehow she was powerless to change what was happening.

      Listen to me, Jewel. His hands dropped away. He stood tall, dark eyes sparking with a cold fury she had never before seen from him. I am not an automaton. I may work for you, but I am not your puppet to be forever dangled on a string. I’ve reached the age where the thought of a wife and family holds more than a little appeal. If I cannot have that with you . . .

      He shrugged. Juliana shivered. He could not possibly mean it. He was hers. Nine years now.

      Six of them apart. Twice as long as they’d been together.

      He was gathering up his clothing, shimmying into his pantaloons, tucking in his shirt, buttoning his vest, shrugging into his jacket. Tugging on his boots, leaving his cravat lying on the carpet, a white splotch against the intricate pattern. A remembrance.

      Remembrance . . . memories. And suddenly in the lowering dusk with a spring breeze off the river nipping at her skin, the last decade of her twenty-nine years played out like the endless drone of a hurdy-gurdy—sprightly, groaning, sad, and frequently out of tune.

      London, 1809

      Lady Juliana Lisbourne stood stock still in the narthex of St. George’s in Hanover Square. The sunlight streaming in through the large stained glass window at the end of the long aisle seemed to dazzle her, her mind whirling into chaos, a jumble of blurred images. She knew the church was overflowing with guests, the balconies as full as the pews below, the garments of the ladies doing their best to outshine the church’s magnificent panels of colored glass. She knew Geoffrey was standing at the far end of the aisle, his best friend Darius Wolfe at his side. The priest must be there too, but somehow her vision blurred, and it all swam together in a shifting kaleidoscope of images which refused to be still.

      A strong hand gripped her arm. Juliana, my dear, it’s time. Her father, the Earl of Dunston, inclined his head toward the waiting guests. Toward the usher poised to signal the organist to begin the processional on the more than a thousand pipes directly above her head. Toward Geoffrey. Charming, handsome, simply splendid Baron Geoffrey Rexford Rivenhall, catch of the Season of 1809. Hers. Unbelievably hers. If she could stop shaking and convince her feet to move. He must be thinking her a complete ninny, standing there frozen in place when the cream of the ton was here, waiting to see her become the Baroness Rivenhall.

      A great burst of sound from overhead. The usher must have thought Papa’s nod was the signal to begin. Dear God, she was about to be married!

      The audience rose, a sea of eyes turned toward her. Now, Juliana! Her father stepped forward, taking her with him.

      Later she would wonder how she could have been

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