The Magic of Love Series
Magic of Love
Three-Book Boxed Set
Margaret Locke
For my mom, for teaching me I could be whatever kind of woman I wanted to be, as long as I was true to myself. Just like each of the heroines in this series.
Contents
Praise
A Man of Character
A Man of Character
Prologue
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
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
A Matter of Time
A Matter of Time
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
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
A Scandalous Matter
A Scandalous Matter
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
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Get A Locke On Love
The Demon Duke
The Legendary Duke
Thank You for Reading
A MAN OF CHARACTER
"This was definitely a "chill-bump" book! Twice I had to put my iPad down and take a break because of the tears that were streaming down my face! I feel like an emotional basket-case right now! … This was like reading a fairy tale, a magical fairy tale. I just added this to my list of "most romantic books"."
- Wendy, Wall-to-Wall Books.
* * *
A MATTER OF TIME
"A love story and so much more, A Matter of Time should be on every fantasy, paranormal, contemporary and Regency romance reader’s "to read" list ... I would definitely recommend this novel—you will be charmed, captivated, have a few good laughs and shed a few tears as you cheer Eliza and Dev on to find their happy every after ending."
- Marsha, KeeperBookshelf.com
* * *
A SCANDALOUS MATTER
"It was amazing! It was incredible! It was everything I've come to expect from this series … With a healthy dose of today as well as yesterday, this book had broad appeal to Contemporary and Historical Romance fans alike. Amara is a very likable character, strong-willed, eager to take on the world, and yet held back at times by the societal truths of her century. Matthew is a great guy, though a workaholic, with a BIG heart hidden away under all that "no strings" exterior … and what an exterior!"
- Gina, Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers
For Brett.
My very own knight in shining armor.
Prologue
Charlottesville, Virginia – Spring 2001
Frank Schreiber examined the book in his hands, a satisfied grunt escaping his lips as his fingers trailed over the spine. “A pretty good job, if I do say so myself,” he murmured, pleased at how well the binding job had come out. The plain black cover with its simple lettering disguised the inner contents well.
“You doing okay, Dad?”
He glanced up. His youngest daughter, Catherine, stood at the entrance to the bookstore, humor lighting her face.
She nodded toward the stack of books at his elbow. “Lost in your treasures again, huh?”
You have no idea, honey. “I’m great! How could I not be, surrounded by so many goodies?”
She laughed as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Why did I even ask? Hey, I’m picking up Mom and we’re going to grab something to eat. Wanna come?”
“No, no.” He waved her on with his hand. “I already ate. You guys have fun. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“I’m betting you won’t notice we’re gone.”
“You know me too well. But I’ll notice. It’s a lot quieter in here without you chattering females around. Perfect for reading.” He laughed out loud when he caught Cat’s faux outraged expression. “You know I speak the truth.”
Her eyes softened as she turned the doorknob. “Yeah, whatever. Love you, Dad,” she called, as she walked out into the late afternoon sunshine.
“Love you, too, Catey. Always.”
Turning back to the book in his hands, he opened it and surveyed the inside pages. Gorgeous. Simply stunning. He didn’t believe the legend his grandmother had told him about the book; that was clearly nonsense her grandmother must have told her, a myth passed down through generations. But given its age, he didn’t doubt the value of its contents. He’d dutifully guarded it, rebinding the pages when the ancient bindings gave way. Better to have it in a secure house, he reasoned. He liked the idea that such an ordinary exterior could house such riches. Just like people.
“Give it to Cat when she’s twenty-five,” his grandmother had said all those years ago. “Promise me. She’s the one.”
Frank had nodded. His second-born daughter, although only seven then, seemed the most likely to share his passion for the written word.
“Why twenty-five?”
Her eyes had twinkled. “It’s how it’s done.�
�
He’d pressed his grandmother for more information, but she’d remained tight-lipped, saying only that Cat would eventually understand.
He couldn’t believe his youngest child would hit that magical age in a few months. Twenty-five. His baby, grown up and out in the world.
He frowned. At least he wanted her out in the world, more than she currently was. Submerging oneself in books wasn’t a bad thing, of course—he was guilty of that himself. But he had his beautiful Grace. He had someone with whom he was sharing his life, someone who reminded him to come back to the real world once in a while.
“I hope you find love, my Catey girl,” he whispered. “It’s the greatest treasure of them all.”
God, had he really just said that? He was going soft in his old age.
Whistling, he set the book down, jotted a quick note, and stuck it inside the cover. Then he wrapped the book in the plain brown mailing paper they kept near the cash register and scrawled her name across the front. Setting the book back into the box, he carefully stacked other titles around it for safekeeping until her birthday.
“I’ll tell her, Grannie.” He’d even tell Cat the absurd claims his grandmother had made about it. For now, at least, it was well protected, as she’d asked.
He hauled the heavy box to the storage closet under the stairs.
Heading back to the main room, he wiped his hand across the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. I’m getting old if one box of books has me breathing this hard.
As he walked to the staircase to head upstairs, sharp pain shot across his ribcage. He grabbed the stair railing to steady himself, his other hand flying to his heart. Large dots floated at the edge of his vision. Daggers ripped through his chest as his lungs seized.
No. Oh, no, no, no. He collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. I should have told you, Catey. I should have told you.
All went black.
Chapter 1
Charlottesville, Virginia - Fall 2011
The last thing Catherine wanted to do was talk about men. She didn’t need to think about anything except the bookstore, especially on today of all days. But she’d promised to rehash her roommate Eliza’s date from the night before, so with a sigh, she placed her standard coffee order and prepared herself for what was to come.
“Vente latte, skim milk, with a shot of butterscotch.” Cat stood back to let Eliza order.
“Double espresso and, um, a slice of that crumb cake. Although I shouldn’t.” Eliza smoothed her hands over her round hips. She flashed a self-conscious smile at the barista as she fumbled in her large, floppy shoulder bag for cash.
After paying for their drinks, the two women sat down in their usual booth next to the front window. Normally Cat loved the open view, but the steady gray October rain wasn’t doing anything to help her attitude this morning.
“So, how’d it go with Jeff?” Cat asked, forcing a smile. She shouldn’t let her own rotten mood dampen Eliza’s spirits. It wasn’t Eliza’s fault. Nobody was to blame but ... She closed her eyes, determined to rid herself of any thoughts of him. “I couldn’t sleep and heard you come in late. I’m assuming that means things went well?”
Eliza wrinkled her nose. “He was nice. We ate at that new Italian place on the Ped Mall. It was wonderful, and the tiramisu was to die for.” She took a quick bite of cake before continuing. “We talked about grad school. Did I tell you he’s getting his masters in history?”
Cat shook her head, savoring the warmth of the coffee mug cradled in her hands. She breathed in the heavenly scent, grateful for its calming effect.
“We had a great time talking. And he was nice. He just wasn’t ...” Eliza paused to lick bits of cake off her fingers.
“Just wasn’t Darcy?” Her friend’s passion for all things English included a love affair with Jane Austen, especially Pride and Prejudice.
Eliza stiffened. “Don’t we all want a Darcy? Besides, is hoping for a British accent such a bad thing?”
Cat shrugged. “Not at all,” she said in the best Queen Elizabeth impression she could muster. Losing the accent, she added, “You might be looking for love, but I am not. You know I haven’t had the best of luck in that area. Men aren’t exactly beating down my door.”
“That’s because you’re not willing to open it. You let one bad relationship sour you on the whole idea,” Eliza retorted. “I know what today is, Cat. I know it marks six years.” She took another sip of her coffee, gazing with sympathetic eyes over the cup’s rim. “I’m sorry about Ryan. He was a jerk.”
Cat’s stomach tightened at his name. She hated how she still reacted to the mention of him, how she struggled through this day every year. He’d ruined October for her, once her favorite month. Hell, he’d ruined everything.
Most of the time she was fine. Weeks passed, sometimes months now, in which that part of her life didn’t register. But he’d left her scarred, a deep emotional branding. Fear of having to endure that kind of hurt again kept her from opening up. She’d had enough loss in her life, thank you very much.
If she were honest, though, she’d admit loneliness crept into more and more of her days ... and nights. Fear couldn’t hold her hand. Fear couldn’t rub her shoulders when she was tired or snuggle with her in the early morning. And fear didn’t silence the longing scratching at that part of her she’d locked away. She wasn’t quite sure what she was longing for. It wasn’t a man. Was it? No relationship was worth risking what was left of her heart, right?
“Six years is a long time,” Eliza added in a soft voice. “Aren’t you the tiniest bit interested?” She motioned around the room. “I bet there’s at least one guy in here right now who’d love to go out with you if you’d just make yourself approachable.”
Cat surveyed the room. She loved this old coffee shop with its eclectic furnishings and low-key atmosphere. Today it housed a mostly younger crowd: college students buzzing up on caffeine before classes, a few moms sipping coffee while trying to entertain babies in strollers. The hum of conversation surrounded them, a sound that always soothed her. An older woman read a novel in the corner, and at a stool near the side window, a man typed on a laptop.
“No, I’m most definitely not interested. I don’t want to go through it all again, and I’ve got bigger concerns, anyway.”
She gestured toward the man at the laptop. “Plus, he’s the only one here close to my age. Not a lot of choices for women in their thirties, you know. Single choices, at least.”
Eliza turned to assess him. Whipping her head back toward Cat, she whispered, “He’s cute. And now he’s looking at you.”
Sure enough, the man had raised his head and was watching Catherine with a quizzical expression. He was rather handsome, Cat conceded. His rich chestnut hair cropped close to his head emphasized his cheekbones and nicely shaped lips. From this distance, she could make out a slight cleft in his chin. As she tried to surmise the color of his eyes, his eyebrows raised in silent inquiry.
“Do you think he knows we’re talking about him?” Eliza shoved another bite of cake into her mouth.
Heat raced to Cat’s cheeks. “He does now.” She shot him a small, embarrassed smile.
He offered a quick grin in return, but then looked over at an auburn-haired woman who’d stopped next to his table. His face lit up as he sprang from his seat, enfolding the woman in a tight embrace. The fleeting streak of jealousy that coursed through her caught Cat by surprise. No. She didn’t want anyone. She didn’t need anyone. Her books were enough. Well, her books and Eliza.
“And apparently he’s already taken.” She jumped from her seat, pushing thoughts of men—all men—firmly away. “We should get back. You know the crowds will be rioting with pitchforks if we don’t open.”
Eliza nodded and stood up. “Let me just get a quick refill.”
As Eliza moved off to the counter, Cat stole a peek at the laptop man. He was laughing at something the woman said. She envied the easy sense of familiarity the couple
exuded. What would it be like to have that again?
The man’s eyes darted toward her, and his eyebrows wrinkled in puzzlement. He watched her for a second before turning his attention back to his companion. The woman didn’t seem to notice.