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SIX DEGREES OF SCANDAL
Scandalous #4
Caroline Linden
Releasing March 29th, 2016
Avon Books
Olivia Townsend is in trouble and
out of options. Pursued by a desperate man in search of a lost treasure, which
she doesn’t have, she’s got only two things in her favor: her late husband’s
diary, which she was never meant to see… and the man who was her first-and
only-love. Losing him broke her heart, though she’s been careful to hide it for
the last ten years. But when he comes to her aid and vows to stand by her this
time, no matter what, she can’t help but hope things will be different this
time.
James Weston has blamed himself for letting Olivia down when she needed him
years ago, and he will not do it again. Fortunately, his unusual life has
equipped him well to outsmart the villain chasing Olivia. Unfortunately, being
so near her again threatens to expose every secret in his heart…even those that
should stay hidden forever.
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A tapping beside her broke into her thoughts. She glanced out
the window and saw the boy who had lured her into trouble, grinning as he
crouched out of sight next to the carriage. “Do you walk in the woods?” he
whispered.
Alarmed, she shook her head, even though she did walk in the
woods every chance she got. Telling him that would only cause her more trouble.
Disappointment flickered over his face. “Oh well.” He stepped
back. “Good-bye, then.” He walked back to his family. Olivia eyed them
curiously. The father was tall and lean, and his wife was very pretty, with a
gloriously beautiful gown. Two girls about Daphne’s age stood beside her,
although the blond girl was fidgeting in boredom and ran up to her brother as
he approached them. He laughed at whatever she said, the carefree sound
floating back to Olivia’s ears. Neither of his parents reproved him for
laughing on Sunday.
The Herbert coachman finally snapped his whip and set the horses
in motion. Olivia watched the Westons as the coach drove away. Upstarts they
might be, but they looked like happy ones.
She had almost forgotten the impudent boy several days later,
when she finished her lessons and was able to slip out of the house. Mother
wouldn’t approve, but Mother had gone into town to the dressmaker, and Miss
Willets, the governess, was fond of sneaking a glass of sherry and having an
afternoon nap when Mother was away. This suited the girls quite well. Daphne
retreated to the nursery with her dolls, where she fashioned new dresses for
them out of scraps of Mother’s discarded gowns, and Olivia stole a book from
the library and headed for the woods. Mother said Shakespeare was vulgar and
too exciting for ladies, which made Olivia eager to read his plays, even though
she was forced to hide away to do so.
There was a quiet little glen not too far from Kellan Hall, the
Herbert home, with a fallen tree and enough sun to be pleasant without being
hot. Settled on the tree, with her feet propped on a nearby stone, Olivia had
just reached the magnificent scene where Romeo revealed himself to Juliet and
professed his love in words that would rend the heart of any sentient
being . . . when someone spoke behind her.
“I thought you didn’t walk in the woods.”
She gave a little scream and dropped her book. “You—you,” she
spluttered. “I am not walking!” It was a stupid thing to say, but he had
interrupted at a very inopportune moment.
Would Juliet return Romeo’s love?
“Oh, did you come into the woods by carriage?” He jumped over
the tree trunk and scooped up the book. “Romeo, eh? Do you like it?”
She glared at him and reached for the book. “Yes.”
He handed it back. “It wasn’t one of my favorites. My sisters
wanted to act it out, but Penelope kept giggling when she was supposed to be
dying.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. Dying? Which character died? She hoped it
wasn’t Juliet. “Don’t tell me any more!”
“I liked that Henry V, though,” he went on. “Smashing good
battle. I’m James, by the way. James Weston.”
She gave him a reproachful look. It wasn’t proper for a
gentleman to introduce himself to a lady, and he ought to know that, even if he
wasn’t a gentleman. “I know.”
He grinned. In the sunlight his brown hair had an auburn hue,
and his eyes were sharp and lively. He couldn’t be much more than thirteen or
fourteen, but he was already tall in Olivia’s view. “And you’re Miss Olivia
Herbert of Kellan Hall.”
“Yes.” She lowered her gaze to her book, hoping he would go
away.
“So,” he said after a moment, “if you only walk in the woods to
find a place to read, you must know about the waterfall.”
Her eyes stopped taking in the words on the page.
“Waterfall?”
she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.
He tilted his head and gave her a sly smile. “I can show you.”
Slowly she closed the book. “Is it far?”
“No.”
And before she knew it, she was following him along a winding
track through the trees, to where a small stream splashed over a fall of rocks.
It was no taller than Olivia herself, but it brought a smile to her face. She’d
lived at Kellan Hall all her life and never discovered it.
Caroline
Linden was born a reader, not a writer.
She earned a math degree from Harvard University and wrote computer software
before turning to writing fiction. Ten years, twelve books, three Red Sox
championships, and one dog later, she has never been happier with her decision.
Her books have won the NEC Reader’s Choice Beanpot Award, the Daphne du Maurier
Award, and RWA’s RITA Award. Since she never won any prizes in math, she takes
this as a sign that her decision was also a smart one. Visit her online
at www.carolinelinden.com.
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