by Diana Ballew
Scandalous Lovers
Volume One
Diana Ballew
Lori Lyn
Marie Tuhart
Jennifer Brassel
Kathy L Wheeler
Scandalous Lovers ~ Volume One Copyright © 2017 by Diana Ballew, Lori Lyn, Marie Tuhart, Jennifer Brassel, Kathy L Wheeler
Trifecta Publishing House
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means now known or hereafter invented, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, Trifecta Publishing House.
This book is a work of fiction Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
Published in the United States of America First Printing: 2017
E-Book
ISBN -13: 978-1-943407-38-5
Trifecta Publishing House
1120 East 6th Street
Port Angeles, Washington
98362
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Designed by Diana
Formatted by Monica Corwin
Created with Vellum
Contents
About Scandalous Lovers
Diana Ballew
Thorns of Eden
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
A word about the author
Also from Diana Ballew
Lori Lyn
The Country Butler
Dear Reader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Marie Tuhart
Passionate Desire
Dear Reader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About the Author
Jennifer Brassel
Warrior King
Dear Reader
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Part II
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Kathy L Wheeler
The Earl’s Error
Dear Reader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
About Scandalous Lovers
Thorns of Eden By Diana Ballew
A Civil War spy for the Confederacy cannot resist the fiery allure of an indomitable Southern nurse, even while the world around them burns.
The Country Butler By Lori Lyn
A woman who rules her domain is willing to risk it all for even just one night in the arms of the man she thinks can never be hers.
Passionate Desire By Marie Tuhart
A bad boy businessman sees through the bland façade of his co-worker to the inner sexy vixen she tries too hard to keep under control. Can he convince her to trust him long enough to set the real woman free?
Warrior King By Jennifer Brassel
Pharaoh and his female slave share a secret burning love that all those around them attempt to manipulate and destroy.
The Earl’s Error By Kathy L Wheeler
An earl’s all-consuming desire for his wife is matched only by the way his touch ignites her soul – but will lust be enough to convince them to confess their secret love?
Thorns of Eden
Diana Ballew
Preface
While Mars with his stentorian voice
Chimes in with dire discordant noise,
Sweet woman in angelic guise
Gives us hope and fear despise.
* * *
The maid of Saragossa still
Breathes in our cause her dauntless will
Beyond Potomac’s rockbound shore
Her touch bids southern cannon roar...
* * *
General J. E. B. Stuart
Chapter 1
Richmond, Virginia
April 1862
“Oh, Father. If we’d only known,” Eden Blair whispered. A stiff poke gouged the small of her back. She turned around and glared at her stepmother, Ann. "What did you do that for?”
“Father? Oh, do move on, Eden. It’s been a whole year, for heaven's sake.”
“I thought you were going to the bakery.” Eden spun on her boot tip and examined a roll of rose-colored fabric in a bright beam of sunlight illuminating the shop’s counter.
“Well, I just—” Ann gasped and tugged at the material. “That color is revolting. Sometimes you’re so thick-headed. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“And just what’s wrong with this fabric?”
“What a matronly color. Are you actually trying to look unattractive for the event? Older? Ann sighed and shoved an invisible strand of ebony hair away from her forehead. “With all the nice boys off fighting, this may be the only social occasion we go to all year.” She swatted her dark skirt. “I’m so happy we’re finally getting out of these black dresses tomorrow, I could dance a jig.”
Eden rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I hope you’re listening to me.” Ann inched closer. “Considering it’s next to impossible to catch a husband right now, one year of mourning is more
than sufficient for both of us. So, while we’re here for your brother’s wedding, may I suggest you try to look your best? Perhaps one of our soldiers in gray will find you attractive. And mind you Eden, I said gray...not blue.”
“Enough!” Eden grabbed the roll of fabric and shoved it at her stepmother’s midsection.
Ann’s blue eyes widened as she caught the fabric against her thick skirts. “Thank you for another fine display of defiance.”
“Well, I certainly learned from the best.”
“How dare you!”
“Ladies, please.” Mr. Johnson darted in, positioning himself between the two women. He lifted the roll of fabric away from Ann’s firm grasp.
Eden flushed from embarrassment. She shouldn’t act in such a manner, especially in public, but Ann was deliberately provoking her with cruel comments about Patrick’s betrayal. After all, it wasn’t her fault he had practically left her at the altar and turned his back on the South to join the Union Army.
The elderly shopkeeper stroked his gray beard, his pale eyes brightening. “Ladies, I do apologize for my limited selection. Perhaps Miss Eden would enjoy seeing some fabric I received this morning and still have in the back.” He smoothed the jumbled material, his gaze darting between the two women, awaiting a prompt answer.
Eden and Ann glared at each other like a pair of Siamese cats before a tussle. Just then, the bells on the shop door behind her jingled.
“Oh, Ann, my dear girl.”
Ann’s face suddenly beamed with a bright smile, and she called to the older woman. “Good morning, Mrs. Radcliff. I’ll be finished here in just a moment. Now, don’t you go running off ’til we have a chance to chat.”
“Miss Eden?” Mr. Johnson gestured toward the back of the shop.
“Pick out something real pretty, sweetheart,” Ann called, then dropped her tone, “And I’ll strangle you silly if you dare embarrass me in front of my friend.”
Eden stuck out her tongue just as the bells jingled once more. Her stepmother’s sudden rapturous gaze was not the reaction she had expected. Instead, Ann’s passionate stare was aimed at the shop’s entrance.
“Oh, Lord, have...mercy,” Ann breathed, “Lord have mercy, look at that divine man.”
Curious, Eden turned toward the morning sun flooding through the open door. The bright light embraced the tall man, obscuring his features while outlining the breadth of his shoulders and the ease and grace of his movements as he removed his hat.
“Well...hello,” Mr. Johnson called to the stranger. “I didn’t rightly expect you so soon, sir. I’ll have your cigars in a jiffy.” He walked toward the back of the shop. “You coming, Miss Eden?”
Eden watched the tall man shut the door and stroll to the counter. His wavy, jet-black hair and dark eyes were in sharp contrast to his crisp white shirt and embroidered waistcoat. The stranger looked in their direction and smiled, revealing gleaming white teeth as he set his hat on the counter and leaned casually on one elbow.
Ann’s tongue darted out and moistened her bottom lip. “Stay out of my way, Eden.”
Eden shook her head and frowned. “You’re pathetic.”
“Oh, hush up!” Ann adjusted the cameo pinned at her throat, her gaze scrolling up and down the handsome man’s form.
“Miss Eden?” the shopkeeper ventured, “Do you still wish to see—”
“I’m coming.” Eden brushed by the stranger, unwilling to watch her young stepmother throw her considerable charms at yet another handsome man, the same way she had once dazzled her father. Behind her, she could hear Ann’s impetuous greeting.
“Ma’am,” returned the stranger, in a low easy drawl.
“Now, I’ve got these new pretty dress goods.” Mr. Johnson led her into the cool, dimly lit storage area. He placed the rose fabric on a shelf and gestured toward a table with cloth and ribbons of various colors lying in neat rows.
Eden winced. “I apologize, Mr. Johnson. Ann has a way of bringing out the worst in me.”
“Oh, I don’t worry about her any.” He pulled out a roll of pale jade silk and shook it in a loose spill. “I imagine her bark’s worse than her bite.”
She ran her hands over the iridescent fabric. “So lovely.”
“I believe you wouldn’t be ashamed of a dress made of this.” He waggled his bushy eyebrows and smiled.
“It’s beautiful, indeed, but...”
He lifted the roll and brought it closer to the door entry. The fabric caught a glimmer of sunlight, and it shimmered with a delicate radiance.
“I love it—truly I do, but I’m just coming out of mourning. Perhaps something more subdued would be more appropriate.” She frowned and poked a finely woven gray taffeta.
“Why, that’s...what did she call it—revolting?” Mr. Johnson teased.
She smiled. “Well, even if I could wear the jade, I can’t afford such luxury right now.”
He shifted his feet and paused. “I thought a lot of your father, Miss Eden. He helped my family through some rough patches. I know many folks around here feel the same.”
“What a kind thing for you to say.”
“Well, I mean what I say. He was one of the best doctors around, and I wish he were still alive so I could tell him how much I appreciated his care. Lord knows, we sure could use a man like him now. I hear there’s a terrible shortage of good docs on the battlefields. He was a loyal man, and I know he would have wanted—”
She bit down on her bottom lip and looked away.
He set the fabric on the table. “Why, I’m sorry. I guess what I’m trying to say is Doc Blair was a good man. I didn’t mean to ramble on and upset you.”
“No, it’s fine.” She patted his arm. “Thank you for your kind words. He thought fondly of you and your family, too.”
He nodded. “I know it’s been hard on you. I just want to say I admire how you stayed by him and nursed him best you could, when he took sick. I don’t imagine she was much help.” He cocked his head in the direction of the front of the store. “I would like to make a gift of this—”
“Hiram.”
The deep voice startled her. Eden turned and saw the stranger strolling toward them. Caught by surprise, she could not remove her gaze from his.
Mr. Johnson examined his pocket watch and gave the man a curt nod. “Excuse me, Miss Eden. You think about this fabric or...or choose something you like better.”
“Yes, of course,” she whispered.
The old man turned toward the stranger. “I have what you ordered in my office, sir.” He patted her arm. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried toward his small office just off the storage room, leaving her alone with the stranger.
Eden watched the slow appraisal in the stranger’s eyes with dawning comprehension. The man stared in a way none of the boys ever would have dared while her father had been alive. She had rarely left Oak Hill during her year in mourning, but country life had certainly not dulled her senses.
She wrenched her gaze from his and realized her fingers were crushing the soft material. She smoothed it to hide her trembling hands.
“Mr. Johnson. I believe I do want this,” she called. “Can you send it down to Miss Annette’s, and I’ll go pick out a dress pattern? Mr. Johnson?”
“Excellent choice.”
She flinched. The man stood close behind her—too close. She hugged the roll of fabric against her chest and turned toward his voice without looking into his face. “Thank you, sir,” she replied, though her voice barely rose above a whisper. She cleared her throat and called toward the closed door. “Mr. Johnson? I’ll...I’ll just take it with me—”
“May I ask what you plan to wear with it?” the man asked, blocking the exit. He reached out to stroke the fabric near her cheek.
Towering over her by at least a foot, the stranger’s commanding energy made her feel off balance. She sensed his dark eyes boring down, urging her to look up.
If he touches me, I’ll faint!
“I don’t know,” s
he responded in the direction of his square jaw. “Please pardon me, sir.”
He did not move.
“Diamonds would be far too strong with this color. I saw an exquisite emerald necklace at a shop down in New Orleans that would complement your eyes. Perhaps your husband could find something similar.”