Ladies of Disgrace Box Set

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by Vicki Hopkins




  “Ladies of Disgrace”

  Box Set of Novels

  Books 1, 2, and 3

  By

  Vicki Hopkins

  (Copyright 2017-2018)

  Every Era Has Its Fallen Women

  ISBN 978-1-7320971-2-4

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Lady Isabella

  Lady Grace

  Lady Charlotte

  LADY ISABELLA | by | Vicki Hopkins

  License Notes

  Work of Fiction

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One | Scandalous Behavior

  Chapter Two | Punishment Well Deserved

  Chapter Three | Preparations for Change

  Chapter Four | Hidden in France

  Chapter Five | Good-byes and Hellos

  Chapter Six | Polished and Finished

  Chapter Seven | Dinner for Two

  Chapter Eight | No Room at the Inn

  Chapter Nine | Homeward Bound

  Chapter Ten | A Secret Rendezvous

  Chapter Eleven | Hats and Horses

  Chapter Twelve | Lines Are Drawn

  Chapter Thirteen | Desperate Measures

  Chapter Fourteen | The Out-of-Tune Aria

  Chapter Fifteen | Winners and Losers

  Chapter Sixteen | Merry-Go-Round

  Chapter Seventeen | I Will – I Won’t

  Chapter Eighteen | Sugar and Spice

  About the Author

  LADY GRACE | by | Vicki Hopkins

  License Notes

  Work of Fiction

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One | A World Turned Upside Down

  Chapter Two | Shared Heartache

  Chapter Three | Digging Trenches

  Chapter Four | The World at War

  Chapter Five | Welcome to Our Homeland

  Chapter Six | Cozy Cottage

  Chapter Seven | Physical and Emotional Pain

  Chapter Eight | Fields of Poppies

  Chapter Nine | Dolls and Kites

  Chapter Ten | Laughter is the Best Medicine

  Chapter Eleven | A Friend in Need

  Chapter Twelve | The Meaning of Grief

  Chapter Thirteen | The Homecoming

  Chapter Fourteen | The Hostile Encounter

  Chapter Fifteen | Women of Britain Say — “GO!”

  Chapter Sixteen | The Dark and the Light

  Chapter Seventeen | Back to the Trenches

  Chapter Eighteen | Unexpected Tidings

  Chapter Nineteen | Passage of Time

  Chapter Twenty | No Peace

  Chapter Twenty-One | Casualty of War

  Chapter Twenty-Two | Peace at Last

  Chapter Twenty-Three | A Piece of the Puzzle

  About the Author

  LADY CHARLOTTE | by | Vicki Hopkins

  License Notes

  Work of Fiction

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One | Born Scandalous

  Chapter Two | A Plan Unfolds

  Chapter Three | Requisites for Good Society

  Chapter Four | An Ounce of Empathy

  Chapter Five | The Gentlemen’s Club

  Chapter Six | From Opera to Burlesque

  Chapter Seven | A Lesson in Wallflowers

  Chapter Eight | A Spin Around the Wheel

  Chapter Nine | Picnic and Ants

  Chapter Ten | Soup, Soap, and Salvation

  Chapter Eleven | Row Your Boat

  Chapter Twelve | Aiming at the Target

  Chapter Thirteen | Broughton Hall

  Chapter Fourteen | A Turning Point

  Chapter Fifteen | Surrender in the Moonlight

  Chapter Sixteen | A Game Well Played

  Chapter Seventeen | To Err is Human

  Chapter Eighteen | The Taste of Humble Pie

  Chapter Nineteen | A Heart of Flesh

  About the Author

  Lady Isabella

  Seduced at the tender age of sixteen, Isabella Stuart did not understand what one poor decision could do to a person’s life. The consequences of her flirtation with the stable boy infuriate her parents, who make arrangements to hide her scandalous behavior. As a result, they send her into hiding to give birth and insist she give up her child for adoption. Upon her return to England, she discovers that her freedom remains severely hindered as her parents insist on orchestrating her marriage. Isabella, however, has fallen in love with another man, who unbeknown to her possesses far more than her heart.

  Book One – Approx. 39,000 Words

  Lady Grace

  As a young woman of twenty-one, Grace did not think it unusual to marry a man of forty. Although she wed a kind and respectful individual, something remained absent from their relationship. Before she could fully understand her growing despondency and restless emotions, England declared war on Germany. Like a jigsaw puzzle turned upside down, the pieces of Grace’s life scatter in different directions. When her husband leaves for France to fight for king and country, Grace is left behind to face years of loneliness, temptation, and loss. After the declaration of peace, the picture puzzle of her life is reassembled but paints a vastly different scene than it did before.

  Book Two – Approx. 47,900 Words

  Lady Charlotte

  Lady Charlotte goes to great lengths to keep her scandalous reputation, feeling no remorse whatsoever for her unconventional social behavior. Cedric, her cousin, thinks she’s an embarrassment to their extended family and decides to embark on the impossible task of reformation. In doing so, he engages a man known for his untainted moral character and respectability among his peers. Albert Beckett eagerly accepts the quest to reform Charlotte, feeling it his moral duty. Charlotte, on the other hand, finds Albert to be a pompous aristocrat, who she spitefully decides to corrupt as he attempts to transform her character. As the two face off for the battle of the sexes, who will win the challenge? Will Charlotte reform her wayward ways? Will Albert fall prey to Charlotte’s seduction? A delightful outcome awaits them both.

  Book Three – Approx. 40,800 Words

  LADY ISABELLA

  by

  Vicki Hopkins

  ISBN# 978-0-9972995-5-7

  Library of Congress Control Volume: 2016920941

  Copyright © 2017 Vicki Hopkins

  Published by Holland Legacy Publishing

  All Rights Reserved.

  This publication or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed or scanned for distribution to others for commercial or noncommercial purposes. Please purchase authorized electronic editions from your retailer. Your support of the author’s copyrighted rights is appreciated.

  Work of Fiction

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One - Scandalous Behavior

  Chapter Two -Punishment Well Deserved

  Chapter Three - Preparations for Change

  Chapter Four - Hidden in France

  Chapter Five - Good-byes and Hellos

  Chapter Six - Polished and Finished

  Chapter Seven - Dinner for Twor />
  Chapter Eight - No Room at the Inn

  Chapter Nine - Homeward Bound

  Chapter Ten - A Secret Rendezvous

  Chapter Eleven - Hats and Horses

  Chapter Twelve - Lines are Drawn

  Chapter Thirteen - Desperate Measures

  Chapter Fourteen -The Out-of-Tune Aria

  Chapter Fifteen - Winners and Losers

  Chapter Sixteen - Merry-Go-Round

  Chapter Seventeen - I Will - I Won’t

  Chapter Eighteen - Sugar and Spice

  About the Author

  Dedication

  In honor of my great-grandmother, Jane Isabella Burrows (1865-1934). In her stubbornness she remained in England while her husband and all her children immigrated to Canada in 1910. She is buried in Southern Cemetery, Manchester, United Kingdom.

  Chapter One

  Scandalous Behavior

  Butternut squash soup—the color, smell, and taste remind me of vomit. It’s not the bisque’s fault for my queasy stomach, although I would prefer to blame the cream base and the cook’s incompetence. On the contrary, it’s my fault. The reason for my ill health has become dreadfully clear.

  Soon I will be the object of disgrace for our distinguished family. To be candid, there isn’t a noble family in England that wishes to have its name identified with scandal. The connotation of immoral behavior, impropriety, or misconduct births malicious gossip that spreads like a disease, destroying social relationships. Those who can keep it a secret remain unscathed. Whether that will be the outcome that awaits my parents is yet to be determined.

  Like most human beings, I put the fault partly on another person rather than shouldering the responsibility entirely myself. It all began when a new stable hand, Roger Gooding, was hired. Perhaps I should blame Mr. Peters, our estate manager, for his poor choice in staff. Now that I have divided the liability between three individuals, it certainly diminishes my charge in the whole affair.

  The moment I met Roger, I hurled away all reason. One could argue that most sixteen-year-old girls possess little if any common sense, which had certainly been my downfall. In my eyes, the young man glowed like a knight in shining armor in spite of his clothes that reeked of horsehair. His wavy brown locks and hazel eyes made my knees wobble. Frankly, I had never met another male that had such a profound impact upon my burgeoning womanhood.

  Maybe I could have resisted the lure if I hadn’t noticed the twinkle of interest in his eyes on our first encounter. I should have thought it cheeky of him even to dare to show me any regard. After all, I was the daughter of an earl and deserved respect as a proper young lady. At least up until that time, I could call myself decent. As hard as my father tried to instill in me the aristocratic pride of old, my small nose never lifted with any airs. With no blue-blooded ego to retain, I adoringly accepted the first wink Roger gave me, recalling how my cheeks burst into a blush.

  After a few weeks of harmless flirtation, sparks started to flash. Every day that I saw him, my palms turned sweaty and my heart raced as if I had run the entire length of the estate toward the stables. When he made the first advance to disregard my rank in life, I became convinced that it was Adam who held out the apple to Eve. I distinctly remember the banter between us. Roger waited with reins in hand, along with my saddled mare. His words keep whirling around in my brain even today.

  “You look rather cute today, Izzy,” he said in a saucy fashion.

  My mouth gaped open when he dared to call me by my nickname. Besides, I preferred Bella.

  “Izzy? You’re a rogue and much too familiar for my taste,” I halfheartedly protested with puckered lips. “You just flatter young ladies like me so we will give you an encouraging smile in response.” I found it impossible not to flash him a toothy grin, showing my pleasure at the compliment.

  Roger nervously looked around, making certain no one heard his invitation. “Will you meet me here tonight?”

  For a second my heart stopped beating, and my eyes grew wide with excitement. “Tonight? For heaven’s sake, why would I do such a foolish thing, Mr. Gooding?” I reached out and patted the mare, appearing aloof.

  “Because I want to steal a kiss, Izzy. Let me be your first,” he taunted.

  “Stop calling me Izzy.” I hissed. “And what makes you think that a boy has never kissed me?” I protested. Naturally, I hadn’t been kissed, except for an occasional sloppy lick from our golden retriever named George. My parents never let me within a hundred feet of another teenage male with raging hormones. He grinned at me like a fool. The idea of my first romantic interlude sent chills down my spine. Looking at his mouth, I swiftly relented.

  “All right. I’ll meet you here after dinner this evening.” Hastily my mind raced through several scenarios of how I could escape the house unseen. “You may have one kiss, and that is all.”

  A suggestive smile lifted the corner of his mouth, but now that I recall the moment, his grin did have a slight wicked slant. Roger’s eyes sparkled at the prospect, and I mounted my horse and retreated to trot across the landscape in a dreamlike state of mind. Had I remained another moment, I might have dragged him into the empty stall nearby and stolen my first peck on my initiative.

  My downfall had begun as soon as I sneaked out of the estate unnoticed, clad in my baby-blue chiffon dress. I bounced to the stables as if I were on my way to the town assembly for a night of dancing. When I arrived, Roger grinned in approval. He gave me the once-over, roving his eyes from top to bottom. I noticed that he, too, had changed out of his overalls. He wore a clean pair of tan trousers and a partially buttoned white shirt that bared his upper chest.

  “You do look beautiful,” he said, approaching. Before I could answer, he slipped his right hand behind my neck, drew me toward him, and pushed his lips against mine. Astonished at the rapid onslaught, I could not protest.

  “Well, good gracious,” I responded, pulling away and gasping for breath. “You didn’t even give me time to give you permission.” I shoved one hand on my hip, showing displeasure.

  “Did you enjoy it?” He smirked unapologetically. Once again, not giving me a chance to answer, his lips found mine. The next I realized, he had me stretched out on a stack of hay, feeling marvelous. His kisses sent electricity down my backbone. By that time, I had started my journey toward destruction.

  After the magnificent joining of our lips, Roger discovered that I had never experienced arousal from a man. Surely, had my mother spoke to me about the so-called birds and the bees at a longer length, I wouldn’t have been so ignorant as to allow him to have his way with me. That reminds me that there are four responsible parties for my predicament. I might as well drag my mother into this mess.

  One moment of unchecked lust had taken me to a pleasant, blissful state. Like a weak rabbit caught in a trap, I let him have his way with me. I assumed afterward he would propose marriage as soon as I turned eighteen and we would run away to live happily forever after.

  If only I hadn’t been such a simpleton.

  How many times in life do we lament the “if only” acts in our lives? It should have ended at the first kiss. If it had, I might not be as terrified as I am now, looking into my cold soup.

  To add to the injustice of it all, the next morning I found out that Roger upped and quit. My heart sank to the bottom of the haystack where I remembered his feigned words of love. He had lied and taken advantage of my witlessness, living up to the roguish term I had given him earlier in the day.

  The smell from the bowl of bisque continued to sicken my stomach, and I have concluded the worst possible consequence of my scandalous behavior.

  “Isabella, you look peaked. Are you feeling all right?” My mother’s voice called to me from across the dinner table, drawing me from my reminiscing state of mind.

  “No, I have a stomachache,” I answered with a sincere moan. My hand pushed the bowl of soup in the opposite direction. “Might I be excused?”

  My eyes rose to my father, who naturally
scowled in my direction and started his interrogation.

  “Have you been eating too many chocolates between meals again?”

  Chocolate. Visions of gooey sweets set off a violent upheaval. A second later, my hand covered my mouth, holding back the deluge. I sprang to my feet, toppled the chair behind me to the floor with a loud bang, and fled from the dining room down to the nearest toilet. As the vomit oozed between my fingers, I lowered my head into the bowl and expelled the balance of my stomach contents, which smelled like the tuna I had eaten for lunch.

  “Oh, this is not good,” I groaned with tears welling in my eyes. Another surge of my lunch that hadn’t digested exited my mouth, leaving a nasty taste on my tongue. After the upheaval had ceased, I knew full well that I was doomed. I raised my eyes to see my mother standing in the doorway with a worried look on her face.

  “I better send for the doctor,” she announced. “You may have a case of the flu.” Mother knelt down on one knee and placed her arm around my shoulder. “You should go straight to bed.”

  “Don’t send for the doctor,” I begged. “A little rest will do me well.”

  “Come now,” she replied, picking me up into a standing position.

  As I wobbled with her arm around me, gradually climbing the staircase, I wanted to blurt out the possibility for my condition. Mortified over the consequences of my confession, I repressed the urge.

  “I’ll ring for Hazel to get you out of these clothes and help you to bed.” She pulled the cord that would send the ring to the servant’s quarters. It only took a few minutes before Hazel appeared in the doorway.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “My daughter is ill,” Mother morosely announced. “Please help her out of her clothing and into a suitable nightgown. She needs rest.”

  Hazel glanced over at me. “Yes, my lady, she had a spell first thing this morning too.”

  The announcement sent a sharp pain through my abdomen. Why did she have to reveal that bit of information? I threw her an annoyed look.

 

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