Lecia Cornwall is a PRO member of the Romance Writers of America’s Seattle and Calgary Chapters.
Her background includes all facets of writing, including running a successful freelance writing business specializing in direct marketing and advertising. Both history and writing have been lifelong passions.
Lecia currently lives and writes in Calgary, Alberta, the heart of the Canadian West.
On the night before the final battle against Napoleon, Lady Delphine St. James finds herself dancing with the one man she has always wanted, Major Lord Stephen Ives. He makes it clear he has no time for a lady he sees as flirtatious and silly, but as the call to arms sounds, she bids him farewell with a kiss that stirs them both. When he returns gravely injured, she is intent on caring for him, even if his surly behavior tests her patience.
After the battle, Stephen is not only wounded and blind, but falsely accused of cowardice and theft. The only light in his dark world is Delphine, the one woman he never imagined he could desire. But she deserves more than he can give her.
As their feelings deepen and hidden enemies conspire to force them to part forever, can their love survive the cruelest test of all?
Stephen felt the wind in his hair, smelled gunpowder and blood, felt the hot June sun on his face. “Julia,” he whispered, and wondered if she’d hear. He saw the soldier he’d spoken to—a sergeant—fall almost at once as a bullet grazed his horse. Stephen saw the bloody streak in the animal’s side, watched as it bucked, maddened by pain. The rider kicked his feet free of the stirrups and jumped as the horse reared. Miraculously, he landed on his feet, but his mount raced away in panic, hardly knowing or caring its rider was gone. The man stood in the path of the oncoming charge, and Stephen saw that there was blood pouring from the side of his face. The soldier swiped at his face, tried to clear his vision. It wouldn’t be enough. In seconds, he’d be dead, run down by the charge. He turned to face his peril, and Stephen saw his shock, the realization that he was about to die.
Stephen leaned out of the saddle and grasped the man’s arm, met his eyes briefly, saw the relief there. The sergeant put his foot on Stephen’s and clung to the saddle as he rode hard for a close and relatively safe place to leave him, which turned out to be behind the body of a dead horse. Stephen let him slide to the ground, felt the last bloody clasp of his comrade’s hand as he turned back to battle, and spurred the stallion toward the guns. Stephen felt the first bullet punch through his shoulder moments later, and knock the wind from his lungs. The second shot tore a button from his tunic, sent it spinning in the air before his eyes. The pain was instant, a white-hot light that blurred his vision, even as his grip tensed on the reins. He held on, kept the stallion moving, let the beast carry him forward.
Print Copy of THE SECRET LIFE OF LADY JULIA
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