Chapter One

 

Her auburn locks flying in the breeze, Juliet rode the stallion across a wide meadow and into the trees at the edge of the estate's vast borders. There was honeysuckle in blossom, with traces of Sweet William, and the fresh scent of springtime fir filling the air. The dew which had sparkled during the early hour when her ride began was now dried away by a warm sun. Only a few soft cotton clouds dotted the blue sky.

The sunshine barely filtered through the thick grove of trees. She saw the fence line of the property beyond the brook where the stallion drank. A quick burst of energy, and the fine animal with her on its broad black back could fly over that boundary. Did she dare take off over it and liberate herself from the confines of the estate? How many times she'd dreamed of flying over that fence, and finding a life in some exciting place beyond the world she knew.

Her life choices were so very few, and she was daunted by the lack of knowledge of those other worlds. Only in books had she tasted the air of great cities, and the wide open expanses of other places. She could hear the choirs of Rome in her head, the sound of British soldiers marching, the flutter of sea gulls at the shore, the cries of street merchants selling their fine wares in bustling cities. But only in her mind.

Now, only on the stallion did she feel any freedom at all, did she really wonder if she could transport herself into the great scary unknown.

It must have been nearly ten o'clock by the looks of the sun. She stared into the sky, toward the flaming ball that could always be felt but never really seen. That was the way her heart worked. She felt things but could rarely stare them in the eye, face to face.

She'd be missed by now; yet the morning was too glorious to miss, and later in the day when she sat by her window, she would remember her early morning flight with an affectionate thrill.

 

The stallion with Juliet on its back pulled up to the great gate of the stone stable. Both were out of breath.

As she feared, her guardian, Mr. Terrell, stood in the courtyard with two grooms, their expressions of worry obvious. Her guardian looked up at her with eyes, not of relief, but anger. She expected no more than that.

One of the grooms took the reins from her as Juliet looked down at the three grim men.

"There's lunch for the Vicar at noon," Mr. Terrell said in a husky voice. He was not old, but he was the kind of man that would always look old, with a hard unchanging expression on his face. His eyes could pierce right through her. Juliet imagined that at one time in his life, there could have been some softness there, though she had never seen any.

"Change your clothes now and meet me in my rooms. You're lucky I don't whip you right here in the stable."

"Yes sir," Juliet replied, not at all meekly. She made her decision and the consequences were expected.

As she dismounted the stallion, the animal was taken away. It might be sometime before she'd ride the exquisite beast again, but the ride this day was worth any price her guardian would force her to pay. She was delighted to wear her britches, the scowling man hated them, and that delighted her too. Racing toward the house, she was up the stairs in seconds.

"You've made him very angry," Miss Hibbard said. The upstairs maid looked like some old crone, but her eyes could twinkle, and her sometimes her face would even break out into a smile. She hated it when Juliet did these things, and she didn't hesitate to say so.

"I don't really care," Juliet said with a degree of haughtiness meant to claim her position, not to upset the often kind woman. Miss Hibbard pulled away her damp coat and britches.

"These old things, I don't know why you can't ride like a lady," she grumbled, as she took them from her and tossed them in a pile on the floor. "One thing for certain, Miss, you won't be wearing them anytime soon. Master will probably have me burn them."

Miss Hibbard pulled from Juliet's wardrobe a fresh pair of pantaloons, a chemise, a tight fitting corset and the dress she thought was proper for lunch with the Vicar.

Juliet groaned.

"Stop that now, you'd better make a good impression on the Vicar, he could get you out of this place."

"Yes, likely married to one of those dour seminary students. Miss Hibbard, I'd die if I had to live my life with them."

"Women don't have many choices, Miss. You'd better take the best looking one, because believe me, they don't get better as the years go by. You're already seventeen. Probably should be married by now."

"I don't want to get married, ever. At least not to anyone that looks like Mr. Terrell's friends."

"Mr. Beecham has had his eye on you for years," the maid offered.

"Oh god, please don't suggest that, I'd die." Juliet was sucking in her breath, allowing the maid to lace the corset tight about her middle. The auburn-haired maiden hardly needed the garment to ensure her of the fine form she enjoyed at her age. Already well endowed, her breasts were a fine round melon shape, her waist was tiny, and her hips flowed naturally wide, but not so wide as to give her a disproportionate bottom. Any man thinking of children would find Juliet a perfect build. Any man looking for a fine woman to bed would find Juliet easily capable of raising their baser passions.

"There you go," Miss Hibbard said, after she'd pulled the dress down over Juliet's head and buttoned the tiny pearl buttons behind. "Looks very lovely on you, miss."

"Thank you," Juliet said. She looked at her flushed face in the mirror, seeing the red rosy cheeks of morning still there. She ran a brush through her long auburn locks, they cascaded in a sumptuous way about her bodice, and to her looked perfect. Her guardian would prefer she keep her hair swept back in a bun, but she wouldn't do that today. It was a statement of defiance.