"A Story of Romance and Intrigue"
Reviewed by Lee Erin Berryhill
Posted July 9, 2013
Romance Historical
Julia is betrothed to a man who sees her as a younger
sister. Desperate for one passionate kiss, Julia succumbs to
a stranger's seductions, and the steamy encounter changes
her life forever. When she meets the stranger again, she is
no longer a titled lady, but a paid companion, a fallen
woman.
Thomas Merritt is a ruined man himself, and a thief. His
brief liaison with Julia left him wanting more, but he left
England soon after, knowing he could never be a part of her
life.
When Julia and Thomas meet again in Vienna, a city filled
with political intrigue, they both have secrets, and they
both need the other's help. Julia and Thomas find they are
still attracted to one another, but will they each be able
to help the other? If they don't they could lose both their
lives.
THE SECRET LIFE OF LADY JULIA is a creative and unique
historical romance. The political intrigue and espionage
form an exciting plot filled with secrets. Julia's secret is
predictable, but Thomas's secret filled past is surprising
and unexpected. THE SECRET LIFE OF LADY JULIA has few dull
moments, and is filled with conspiracy and scheming. Lecia
Cornwall writes with great detail, making characters come
alive, especially the royalty Julia meets in Vienna. Each
character from Julia and Thomas, to Donovan and Princess
Katerina has their own distinct personalities, which make
reading THE SECRET LIFE OF LADY JULIA an enjoyable
experience.
Readers will be able to sympathize, laugh with,
and cry with each individual character, and each one is
memorable enough for readers to love or hate. Ms. Cornwall
is an amazing story - teller, and THE SECRET LIFE OF LADY
JULIA is a book I will re - read and recommend.
SUMMARY
Lady Julia Leighton has been betrothed since her eighth
birthday to an old family friend who feels more like a
brother than the love of her life. At her
long–awaited betrothal ball, she encounters a
handsome stranger, and the heady mixture of champagne and
experimental kisses leads to seduction born of a desire to
feel something extraordinary in a man's arms before her
marriage to the man her grandmother calls 'Dull Duke David".
Thomas Merritt is only at the ball to steal a magnificent
tiara owned by Julia's mother. Disowned by his brother for
his rakish behavior, Thomas makes his way in the world by
seducing rich women and stealing their jewels. But when he
catches sight of the beautiful young
bride–to–be, and watches her fiancé completely
ignore her, he sets out to charm her, to flirt a little.
When he steals a kiss, the intensity of his own feelings
surprise him. He thought himself beyond feeling anything
for any woman, but when he realizes too late that Julia was
a virgin, he finds himself tempted to see her again. But
she is betrothed to a duke, and he is more likely to end up
dead than welcomed into the family. He leaves for Paris the
day the Napoleonic wars officially end, both to find richer
pastures and to try and forget Julia.
But when their paths cross again, years later, they are
both in very different circumstances. Julia, disgraced
after the death of her fiance, has a secret she's desperate
to keep from Thomas. Thomas has a very dangerous secret of
his own and it turns out that Julia is the only person who
can help him. But will the past threaten to overtake their
rekindled love?
ExcerptCHAPTER SIXTEEN
The intimate supper at Princess Kostova's lavish
apartments turned out to be for four, not two.
Katerina greeted Thomas at the door with a warm embrace
and a promising kiss, then stepped back, running her hand
over his lapels.
"My oldest and dearest friends have arrived, and I could
not turn them away." She kissed him again. She tasted of
champagne, smelled like gardenias. "I think you will like
them. Come." She clasped his hand in hers and tugged him
toward the little dining room, since the big dining room was
being set to accommodate the luminaries who would attend her
salon later that evening.
An elderly gentleman stood as they entered, his dark eyes
assessing Thomas at a glance.
"You have a new gentleman, Katya. How delightful. We
shall grill him like a squab and devour him. I do hope
you're up to it, Monsieur."
"Behave yourself, you old roué," the princess admonished
gently. "This is Viscount Merritton. Thomas, this is the
Prince de Ligne."
"Ah, Thomas is it? First names already," another voice
purred. "Then he is more likely to be dessert than the main
course." Thomas turned to look at a large woman reclining on
a chaise longue, her eyes bright, her smile suggestive,
though she was old enough to be his grandmother. Thomas's
eyes popped. The woman's bulky figure dripped with jewels,
from the tiara on her gray head to the waterfall of
diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls that flowed over her
vast bosom.
"This is my godmother, and my mother's oldest friend,
Madam Anna," Katerina said.
"Charmed," the jeweled lady said with a thick Russian
accent, letting her eyes wander over him as if she were
indeed contemplating dining on him. She extended her hand to
be kissed. Every finger bore a glittering ring. Thomas smiled.
"Likewise charmed, madam."
The Prince nudged him. "Be careful, viscount. Anna and I
met many years ago in Russia, at the court of Catherine the
Great. I was bewitched by her beauty and her wit, and I have
been under her spell ever since."
Anna grinned, her jewels twinkling with delight. "I have
a penchant for military men. So did Empress Catherine. I was
the Empress's ‘tester.' Does that shock you, young man?"
Thomas's brows rose. "You tasted her food?" He took a
seat near the chaise.
The prince chuckled. Madame Anna purred.
Katerina smiled behind long fingers.
"It's nothing to do with food at all,
Thomas," Katerina began. "When the Empress admired a certain
gentlemen—"
Anna took over. "Oh, they weren't all
gentlemen. In fact most were not—not even nobly born.
She liked soldiers best of all. Are you a soldier, viscount?"
"He would be in uniform, Anna," The prince
said gently. "When Catherine the Great admired a certain
gentleman, Anna had the great responsibility of testing his,
um, sexual prowess, before he was invited to the imperial
bedchamber."
Thomas's surprise must have shown on his
face, for everyone laughed.
"I see you are shocked indeed," Anna said. "But it was a
privilege, you see, a great honor and—" she sighed,
and trailed a be–ringed finger over her finery with a
wicked smile. "Each time I recommended a man to the Empress
and he pleased her, she would reward me with a bauble." She
ran a long rope of pearls through her fingers and gazed
lovingly at the ruby pendant on the end. "I have named all
my little trinkets for the talented gentleman who were
unknowingly responsible for them. The pearls are called
Lieutenant Dashkoff—and the pendant, oh the
pendant!—that is General Semyon."
"And where is your emerald pin, the sergeant,
tonight?" Katerina asked.
Anna pursed her lips. "Alas, he is away on
duty at present. Of course, the sergeant himself was hardly
one of my favorites, nor Catherine's—though he pleased
her for a night or two—and a lady needs to eat."
Katerina patted her hand. "I will send
someone to buy the pin back for you."
"Oh would you, my dear?"
The prince smiled at Thomas. "All very
baffling, non? It is a game they play. When one is ... how
do you English say it? In Queer Street? Without blunt? One
must do what one needs to survive. Anna refuses to accept
charity. Instead, she pawns her jewels, and her goddaughter
buys them back."
Thomas knew exactly how that worked.
At the delicate chime of a bell, a set of damask curtains
at the end of the room parted, revealing an intimate table
set for four. The prince escorted Katerina, and Thomas
offered his arm to Anna. She squeezed his bicep, as if she
were testing him too. She sniffed his cologne and nodded
approvingly. Katerina raised one eyebrow and smiled fondly
at the old lady.
"Well?" she asked.
"He will do, but let us see how he eats."
"It is a theory that Catherine had," Katerina whispered.
"If a man enjoys his food, he will enjoy a woman similarly."
The table was so small her knee rested against his under the
long white cloth.
Thomas stared at the variety of food. The table
positively groaned with roast pheasant, caviar, and chicken.
An equally eye–popping selection of chocolates, cakes,
and fruit waited on the sideboard. He raised a glass of red
wine, sparkling like Anna's ruby in the glass.
"And yet, if a man ate so much, would he be able to
perform to any woman's satisfaction?" he asked.
Madam Anna looked pleased. "You have passed the second
test as well, dear viscount. A man must savor, not gobble,
his meat." She waved her hand over the lavish meal as if
casting a spell. "He must choose what to enjoy, do so
slowly, appreciatively. Between courses, he must cleanse his
palate, heighten his senses for the next dish."
The prince chuckled. "I told you she was bewitching, did
I not? You will never look at a chop or a bit of liver pâté
the same way again, will you?"
"You will taste every mouthful," Katerina said in a low
purr, taking a spoonful of caviar.
"Especially dessert, the sweetest course—the rich
cream, the tartness of the fruit, the smooth gloss of
chocolate, and the pungent nip of cinnamon that comes at the
end," Anna added.
"Praise the lord it comes," The prince sighed, and
mockingly fanned himself with his napkin. Katerina nudged
Thomas's knee under the table, rubbed it intimately, a
promise of sweetness.
The prince raised a toast as the second
course was served, chicken in a fragrant sauce, rich with
garlic and wine. "I will now do my best to change the topic
of conversation, so the viscount may eat his meal without
having his bedroom skills analyzed. I encourage you to eat
as you please, sir. Pick up a chicken leg and gnaw on it if
you wish, spread the caviar on bread, and let these hussies
wonder what it means. It would give Anna great pleasure
indeed to watch you, try to puzzle out if you like to start,
so to speak, at the head or the tail."
"Your toast, old roué?" Katerina reminded him.
The prince raised her hand and kissed it. "Firstly, to
the lovely company we find ourselves in tonight," he said,
nodding to the two ladies. "Secondly, to the great pleasure
of meeting new people," he said to Thomas. They drank
deeply, and a footman stepped out of the shadows to refill
their glasses. Anna held the servant's sleeve as she drained
the glass, and smiled as he immediately filled it again.
"Tell me, Viscount," the prince said. "How do you come to
be in Vienna for this great and auspicious event? My old
friend Rousseau, the king of philosophers, would have said
such a confluence of emperors and kings is rarer than the
conjoining of stars in the heavens. He would say it means
the end of the world. What say you to that?"
Rousseau? "I am simply a tourist," Thomas said.
De Ligne leaned forward. "Ah, on the Grand
Tour, perhaps! I am pleased it is back in fashion. I took
the tour myself, many years ago, before all the best places
were spoiled by Revolution, and Napoleon's grande armée
trampled all the rest. Which country did you enjoy most?"
Thomas met the old courtier's eyes, still
sharp and dark as marbles. It was easy to imagine him as a
great general, reading the battlefield, making tactical
decisions based on what he saw. His gaze took a man's
measure, Thomas realized. As surely as Anna had her method,
de Ligne had his. Thomas held his gaze, resisted the
temptation to look away look. Could the prince see what he
was, what he'd become, what he feared most?
"Belgium," he replied to the prince's question, knowing
the prince had been born there. "Brussels is lovely in the
spring." He could hardly say he had yet to truly find a
place he loved above all others, a home.
The light in the general's eyes went out. He
shook his head, disappointed. "You try to flatter me, I
think. Yet it is not necessary. I have no power now. I am
simply an old man with interesting tales to tell, and so I
am invited to dine by lovely ladies like Princess Kostova."
"You are my old roué," Katerina said, leaning
over to kiss his cheek.
De Ligne grinned at Thomas. "She does it too, flatters
me, but I will indulge her. Ah well, good manners insist
that I return the favor and say that I enjoyed my time in
London, though I could never understand the intricate
etiquette of the upper classes. So many rules makes one
stiff and dull. I was regarded as an oddity, a social
buffoon, always putting a foot wrong. The English have no
sense of humor at all, and I, as you have seen, cannot help
but speak my mind. If something is amusing, I must say it is
so."
"You are notorious everywhere for speaking
your mind, dearest, not just in England." Katerina said lightly.
"And you are notoriously charming,
Princess," he said. "Would you have invited me tonight if I
did not say the outrageous things I do? We amuse each other,
charm our friends, and shock those who do not know us well,
as it should be. Do you not agree, viscount?"
"He learned this naughty banter from his dear
friend Casanova," Anna whispered. She laid her hand on his,
and he stared down at a pearl ring the size of a quail's
egg. "Captain Starensky," she introduced the pearl. "I gave
him a very good report, and so did the Empress. By now the
Captain himself is long since dead, or old and ugly, but his
namesake will keep me warm forever."
How easy it would be to slip one of the rings off the old
lady's wrinkled fingers, Thomas thought. She would probably
forget she'd worn it tonight, wonder if she'd pawned it. She
would not suffer for the loss of it—the Princess would
see to that.
Still, he hesitated. He was enjoying the company and
loath to spoil the evening.
"One thing I liked about England were the
ladies," the prince mused as the footman filled their
glasses with wine the same color as Anna's yellow diamond
earrings.
"Better than Russian ladies?" Katerina
demanded, her blue eyes flashing fire.
The prince winked at Thomas. "Better than
Austrian ladies, at any rate," he said. "Are you married,
viscount?"
Thomas shook his head.
"Why?" Anna demanded. "You are so—" she
squeezed his hand again.
"I have been traveling, and I haven't met a
lady I want to wed," Thomas said, giving the usual excuses.
"A pity Katerina is already married," the
prince sighed. "But what is your taste? A proper English
lass, perhaps?" He glanced at the princess and Anna.
"Englishwomen are taught the feminine graces, but nothing
more intellectual. It is a rest for the mind to spend time
conversing with an English lady."
"How very dreadful you are tonight!" Katerina
said, laughing.
Thomas thought of Julia. She was anything but
restful or soothing.
"You, for example, Princess," the prince went
on. "You speak three languages, read widely, and you
consider yourself quite independent of your husband's
authority. You are a handful, my dear, and you know it. I
daresay Kostov is sating himself on a buxom little tavern
wench who doesn't speak a word of any language other than
German, and even that not well, so he does not have to think
of anything witty to say."
Katerina sniffed. "He is more likely to be
closeted with the tsar and his companions and advisors. Not
that they are conversing about anything. They are probably
enjoying the favors of two dozen buxom little wenches." She
gave Thomas a brilliant smile. "He has his amusements, I
have mine."
"It's much the same in England," Thomas said.
"The upper classes marry strangers of similar pedigree,
breed blue–blooded heirs, and find their pleasures
outside the marriage bed."
"Then perhaps the English are not as different from
Europeans as I thought," the prince said. "Is that the kind
of marriage you look forward to?"
"Not at all," he said, feeling the watch in his pocket,
hearing the lullaby playing in his mind.
"Is it possible," Anna asked, "that you are promised to
some English lady, and merely touring the continent to sow
the last of your wild oats, as the English say, before
settling down to the dull task of getting heirs with a woman
you do not enjoy?"
"Oh, do tell me about her!" Katerina said, a sharp edge
to her tone. Thomas glanced at her. Was she jealous? Her
expression was unreadable in the candlelight.
"There's no one," he said, though it was a lie. Julia's
face invaded his thoughts again. "I am a confirmed
bachelor." She had become the hallmark by which he judged
every woman he met. He remembered her—whether his
memory of those few short hours in her company was accurate
or not—as the most beautiful, charming, desirable
woman he'd ever met. She'd been unskilled and inexperienced
as a lover, but her response to him had been genuine. Regret
filled him again, and he tightened his grip on the delicate
stem of his wineglass.
"Ah, there is someone I think," the prince
said, watching him. Thomas forced a carefree smile.
Katerina tilted her head. "Should I worry? Is
she here in Vienna, waiting to scratch my eyes out for
taking you from her company?"
Thomas took her hand and kissed it. "There is
no one but you, Princess, at least tonight."
The prince barked a laugh, and raised his
glass. "And that is all we have, mais non? Tomorrow is very
far away indeed."
"What are Englishwomen like in bed?" Anna asked. "Or
English men for that matter?" she waggled her gray brows and
her tiara twinkled. "No, don't answer, darling
viscount—I shall leave it to Katerina to tell me
tomorrow."
As Katerina gently scolded her godmother
again for her boldness, Julia's face filled Thomas's mind,
the softness of her sighs as he loved her, the way she'd
caught her bottom lip in her teeth as he kissed her breasts.
Did she think of him as she lay with her duke, striving to
breed an heir? Did she enjoy Dull David's touch, or recoil
from it?
"You are embarrassing my guest, Anna,"
Katerina said, bringing him back.
"Not at all," he said lightly. "But I'm afraid I can't
offer much illumination on the subject. I have been on the
continent for over a year. I cannot recall the last time I
even spoke to an English lady." He recalled every word that
he had spoken to Julia. He winked at Anna. "Or an English
gentleman."
The prince looked surprised. "You have not
dined with anyone from the British delegation?"
Katerina sniffed. "Lady Castlereagh is
exceedingly dowdy, and her husband is as stiff as a statue."
The prince took a spoonful of caviar and
rolled his eyes with pleasure. "But there are other members
of the delegation, much more pleasant company. For example
there is a young lady—"
Anna interrupted. "I have heard Castlereagh's
half brother is quite a scandal. What he lacks in charm, he
makes up for in drunken persistence. Reminds me of
Captain—"
The prince set his spoon down. "I was
speaking of the ladies, Anna!" he scolded her interruption
mildly. "Some of them are quite charming. For instance,
there was a very lovely lady at the Emperor's ball the other
night—"
Katerina's eyes widened in surprise. "Were
you there, my roué? I didn't see you! How could I have
missed you?"
He patted her hand. "With several thousand people there,
half of them eating, half of them dancing, all of them
talking at once, who could find anyone? This is much better,
an intimate dinner, good conversation. Quality, instead of
quantity."
"Never mind the flattery, old friend. Tell us all about
the ball," Anna sighed. "Alas, I was unable to secure an
invitation. I would have worn the general ... "
"Which one is the general?" Prince de Ligne asked.
"My other tiara, the one with the emeralds."
"Are there very many ladies traveling with the British
delegation?" Thomas asked, thinking of the watch.
The prince pursed his lips. "Yes, a few. As I was saying,
I met a charming lady at the ball named—"
Katerina laid a finger on his lips. "You shall not speak
her name here! He is my guest, and tonight I want him to
think only of me."
Anna gave Thomas a knowing grin. "She means to have you,
viscount, even untested."
"Pity you did not think to bring letters of reference,
my friend," the prince said, raising his glass." Ah well, we
shall meet some morning in the park and compare all the
women we have known and loved, though I daresay my list will
be far longer, simply because I outrank you in age."
Thomas raised his glass in return, conceding the claim.
"Oh, do tell us now," Katerina encouraged him. "Of all
your tales, I adore the ones about your amours most of all."
The prince let the footman refill his glass, then
grinned. "Let me see ... " he said, rubbing his lower lip
thoughtfully. "Ah yes, Versailles ... " he leaned in and
filled the room with salacious tales of his romantic
adventures, and Thomas realized he was enjoying himself for
the first time in a very long time.
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