Rose of Ebony (Scandalous Scions Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  About Rose of Ebony

  Praise for Tracy Cooper-Posey’s historical romances

  Title Page

  The Great Families

  Rose of Ebony

  Did you enjoy this story? How to make a big difference!

  The next book in the Scandalous Scions series.

  Sneak Preview: Soul of Sin

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Rose of Ebony

  An unwanted marriage turns tragic.

  Raymond, Viscount Marblethorpe, eldest son to Elisa and stepson to Vaughn Wardell, casts off the solitary confines of a mourning widower to seek the company of his extended family.

  His sharp-eyed cousins and siblings refuse to let him lie to himself, even if he must deceive the ton to save the family from yet another scandal.

  The Rose of Ebony novelette is an introduction to the spin-off series following the historical romances of Scandalous Sirens. Scandalous Scions brings together the members of three great families, to love and play under the gaze of the Victorian era’s moralistic, straight-laced society.

  Reader Advisory: This story contains frank sex scenes and sexual language.

  This story is part of the Scandalous Scions series:

  0.5 Rose of Ebony

  1.0 Soul of Sin

  …and more to come!

  A Sexy Historical Romance

  Praise for Tracy Cooper-Posey’s

  historical romances

  The main reason I ever began reading Cooper-Posey's work was her adventurous historical fiction - and she's back at it, in high style.

  You will struggle to put it down. It is truly historical romance at its finest!

  One of the better historical romances this reviewer has read in a long time.

  Readers will be swept up into this stunning historical story.

  Amazing amount of detail to the time period.

  One of the best historical romances I have read this year. Tracy Cooper-Posey deftly blends historical detail with heart-touching romance.

  The Great Families

  Elisa and Vaughn Wardell

  Marquess of Fairleigh, Viscount Rothmere

  1825 Raymond, Viscount Marblethorpe (stepson)

  1839 William Vaughn Wardell

  1839 John (Jack) Gladwin Lochlann Mayes (fostered in 1846)

  1842 Sarah Louise Wardell (D)

  1843 Peter Lovell Wardell

  1844 Gwendolyn (Jenny) Violet Moore Wardell (adopted in 1848)

  1844 Patricia Sharla Victoria Mayes (fostered in 1846)

  1849 Blanche Brigitte Colombe Bonnay (adopted in 1851)

  1853 Emma Jane Wardell (adopted at birth)

  Natasha and Seth Williams

  Earl of Innesford, Baron Harrow (Ire.)

  1839 Lillian Mary Harrow

  1840 Richard Cian Seth Williams

  1841 Neil Vaughn Williams

  1843 Daniel Rhys Williams

  1846 Bridget Bronte Williams & Mairin May Williams

  1849 Annalies Grace Williams

  Annalies and Rhys Davies

  Princess Annalies Benedickta of Saxe-Weiden, of the royal house Saxe-Coburg-Weiden, Formerly of the Principality of Saxe-Weiden.

  1835 Benjamin Hedley Davies (adopted in 1845)

  1842 Iefan William Davies

  1843 Morgan Harrow Davies

  1843 Sadie Hedley Davies (adopted in 1845)

  1846 Bronwen Natasha Davies

  1848 Alice Thomasina Davies (adopted at birth)

  1849 Catrin Elise Davies

  Rose of Ebony

  Innesford House, Cornwall. 1857.

  It vexed Raymond that despite Herculean effort to remember to sit in the middle of the carriage seat, he continually found himself against the edge of the old carriage, making way for hoops and petticoats that would never again push up against his thigh.

  It didn’t seem fair that a marriage entered into reluctantly, maintained minimally and ended tragically should continue to impinge upon him in this way, but there it was. He was making way for Rose and her skirts.

  Then the carriage rounded the last curve and the multiple peaks and gables of Innesford House appeared among the rusty red, dusky orange and yellow leaves still stubbornly clinging to the black oak branches and the upright silver birches.

  From the nearby Dunstall Woods, he could hear a hunting party—the cry of the dogs, peppered by rifle blasts and horns. As the carriage turned into the gravelled drive in front of the big, old house, he could feel the bothersome itchiness that had driven him out of London fall away.

  Corcoran stepped out the door as the carriage came to a halt with the driver calming the horses with soothing phrases. Behind the Innesford butler, a half-a-dozen maids and footmen streamed out. A footman opened the door of the carriage, the other three began removing Raymond’s trunks from the back of the carriage. The two maids stood in file by the door, waiting.

  Corcoran, as usual, looked calm, even though Raymond had given no warning of his arrival. The butler was utterly unflappable and completely devoted to the family.

  Raymond stepped out and stretched. There were very few carriages built for a man of his height. He looked forward to the train line to London being completed in the next year or so. The long hours in a carriage with little spring left in it was not nearly as comfortable as an upholstered first class train cabin.

  There were late larks twittering in the trees, fighting over the last of the summer green for their nests. The sun was high overhead and pleasantly warm.

  He sniffed. He could smell the salty tang of the sea and hear the screech of gulls. “Ah, that smells good, Corcoran.”

  “Viscount Marblethorpe, we were not expecting you,” Corcoran chided him. “Lunch has just been served. I have asked for a place to be made for you.”

  That explained why he couldn’t hear children shouting from the back of the big old rambling country house. They were all sitting down to eat. “Day two of the Great Family Gathering, hey, Corcoran? Does that mean they’re outside?”

  “Of course, my lord. The pavilion was erected last week to accommodate the numbers.”

  “How many this year?” Raymond asked, as he removed his great coat and straightened his coat and cravat.

  “Twenty-seven, my lord, including yourself. Even Miss Emma has been deemed grown enough to sit at the family table for this occasion.”

  “Has she, indeed?” Raymond remarked. Emma would be four this year. The last time he had seen her, she had been a toddler wearing a big lavender bow in her dark hair, gripping a much battered and chewed doll. “If Emma is at the table, with my arrival that includes absolutely everyone, does it not?” He was pleased about that.

  Corcoran cleared his throat as he rearranged the great coat over his arm. “Lord Innesford, of course, will not be there.”

  Raymond gripped Corcoran’s shoulder compulsively. “I’m sorry, Corcoran. You are right. I had not forgotten him. I have been rather distracted lately. The only thought occupying me for the last week was the idea of seeing everyone today.”

  Corcoran looked just as abashed and awkward. “It is I who should apologize, my lord. How thoughtless of me…”

  Raymond patted his shoulder. “There is no need to announce me. I’ll slip around the house and surprise them.”

  “Very good, my Lord.” Corcoran’s relief at being able to escape the vicinity of his gaff was visible.

  Raymond handed over his top hat and ran his hand through his hair, as the breeze ruffled it. “Thank you, Corcoran.”

  He crunched across the gr
avel to the formal footpath that shot straight as a javelin through the west wing gardens, that featured a big maze the children loved to play in. The east wing, which got more southern light, was given over to a formal pottager garden with espaliered fruit trees and grassed and paved areas where lounges could be spread for relaxing in the sun.

  The big pavilion was always set up on the edge of the field-sized lawn at the back of the house, facing the sea, as close to the house as possible without siting it on the gravel between house and lawn. The rest of the mown and rolled grass was given over to a large croquet field and a cricket pitch at the far end for the more energetic members of the family.

  Croquet mallets and balls, hoops and stakes were scattered over the lawn. The wickets on the cricket pitch were set up, yet no bats or balls lay near them. It seemed that lunch had interrupted one of the family’s boisterous croquet matches.

  From inside the white pavilion, which had most of the sides in place, came the noisy chatter of twenty-six adults and children, as they dined together on locally caught baked sole, glazed vegetables and freshly baked bread. There would be three types of dessert, including fresh fruit compote made from peaches, cherries and apricots picked from the espalier trees.

  Vaughn, sitting at the head of the table, as the most senior male, jumped to his feet the moment he spotted Raymond through the openings in the side of the tent. He strode around the table and out onto the gravel, his arms out. “Raymond!” He smiled and shook his hand vigorously.

  Vaughn Wardell had not changed a great deal from the first time Raymond had met him, on the day he had returned Raymond to his mother when he was only ten years old. Raymond had become particularly sensitive to signs of aging or ailment in people in the last few weeks and could see nothing disturbing in Vaughn’s features. He was still as tall as Raymond, just as wide in the shoulders and the relaxed, contented air had not changed. The only difference from the man he had first met was the few silver spots in his dark hair.

  As Elisa glided up next to his step-father, Vaughn’s smile faded. “But why are you here?” Vaughn asked. “We wouldn’t dream of disturbing your mourning, even for this week.”

  “I had to get out of London,” Raymond confessed. “I could not stand another minute of staring at the walls of the townhouse. It was so…silent.”

  “Is little Vaughn well?” Elisa asked.

  Raymond smiled at her. “He thrives,” he said truthfully.

  Elisa had changed little more than Vaughn. Her waist might be slightly larger than it had once been, yet her hair was still white gold and glowing. There was a softness to her face that had not always been there and her eyes had laugh lines at the corners that Raymond considered charming, although he knew she despaired of them. She was wearing mourning, for Rose.

  “The wet nurse dotes on Vaughn,” Raymond told her. “I had imagined children to be noisy and smelly, but he merely gurgles.”

  “As contented children are wont to do,” Vaughn said, a ghost of his smile returning. “If the townhouse evokes too many memories, then Kirkaldy is empty right now. You could stay in highlands for as long as you want and no one would disturb you.”

  Raymond shook his head. “No. No more being alone. I know it is what one is supposed to prefer at this time, only I cannot stand it anymore. I came here deliberately, Father, knowing everyone would be here. I need noise. Chatter.”

  Elisa stepped past Vaughn and slid her hand under Raymond’s elbow. Raymond automatically bent his arm so she could rest her hand on his forearm. “And so you shall have it,” she told him warmly, smiling up at him. “Come along. They’re making a place for you right now. There is a great deal of food, although if the children have their way, the excess will be seen to.”

  Raymond rested his hand on his mother’s where it lay on his arm. “Was it you who sent the ebony roses, mother?”

  Elisa looked startled. “Black roses? I didn’t think such things existed.”

  “I asked the florist. They are very rare. From Turkey, where they only grow on a single hillside.”

  “No card with them?” Vaughn asked, walking along alongside them as Elisa led Raymond into the tent.

  “No. No card,” Raymond said. “I thought it was you, trying to tell me you were thinking of me, yet trying not to intrude, either.”

  “That does sound like Elisa,” Vaughn said warmly.

  “I swear, I did not send them,” Elisa assured him. “The sender clearly did care not to impose themselves. You are well regarded, Raymond.”

  He gave his mother a warm smile. She had always thought so highly of him.

  “Wine, Raymond? Or something stronger?” Vaughn asked.

  “Wine, please,” Raymond said. “I don’t want to send Corcoran into the house in search of libations just for me.”

  “Relax,” Vaughn said gently. His hand rested on Raymond’s shoulder for a moment. “You’re among family, here.”

  Relief touched him. He had been braced for disapproval from the family for appearing in public so soon after his wife’s death. In particular, he had expected his mother to protest for she, more than anyone else in the family, had reason to be far more sensitive to the damage that public opinion could inflict.

  Elisa merely squeezed his arm. “Yes, you are safe here,” she murmured and Raymond knew his peculiar need for company had been understood and accepted.

  They walked back into the tent and skirted the very long table, as twenty-four diners smiled and called greetings. Even little Emma, seated next to her mother’s empty chair, her back very straight and proud and her mouth smeared with tartar sauce, waved shyly at him.

  Lilly tilted her head at Raymond as he passed by and opened her eyes comically. Behind the spectacle glass, her eyes seemed enormous. Raymond knew he would have to explain himself to her, later. In her quiet, unassuming way, Lilly would worry about him if he didn’t explain. She was only eighteen, yet her opinions and behaviour sometimes made it seem as though she was far older than Raymond.

  Even though he did not look forward to that conversation, he didn’t mind that it would occur. This noisy, inquisitive, clever, rambling great family of unofficial cousins, adopted siblings and true brothers and sisters, was a most welcome sight. Already he could tell from the easing of tightness in his chest that coming to Cornwall had been a good decision, even though it went against every rule in Cassell’s Household Guide. Here, though, among these people, Cassell’s held a weak grip upon their behaviour.

  It was so good to be here.

  * * * * *

  The rest of the day was exactly as distracting and comfortable as he had hoped it would be. The croquet game, played in teams with each team member taking a turn with the mallet, while everyone else called out advice and encouragement, was fought fiercely. The eight boys who were home from Eton for the Michaelmas Long Leave banded together and walked to the beach to swim in the cold, choppy Channel waters. It was another annual tradition. They returned an hour later, damp and shivering, yet full of energy.

  There was no formal dinner the evening of the family picnic. The staff laid out sandwiches and cold cuts on the sideboard in the big, formal drawing room, for anyone hungry enough to eat, which usually included most of the children and few of the adults.

  One of the features of the evening was that the children were not banished to the nursery or the upper floor. It was a tradition for the five days that parents and children mingle as freely as they wished, with a disregard for society’s expectations.

  Raymond remembered previous years’ gatherings fondly and more clearly than other society occasions that were supposed to be family oriented, including Christmas. He recalled bubbling over with happiness to spend time merely sitting close to his mother and Vaughn and not being sent off after the requisite hour had passed. He remembered the high jinks he and his cousins had got up to. As the oldest cousin by a number of years, he should have been the instigator of most of them. Often, he had been, but not always.

  The Da
vies family children were far more adventurous than he and far more open-minded about breaking silly rules. That came from their mother’s broad-minded upbringing. The Princess Annalies had often shocked Raymond as he was growing up, for he had met royalty more than once and his expectations for how a princess should behave were well defined. Sometimes, Aunt Annalies was more blue-stocking than blue-blood. She read widely and her opinions about an astonishing range of subjects were rarely conservative.

  The Williams children were just as happy to break rules when they could get away with it, although they got into scrapes because it was fun, not because it broke rules. They were just as quick to share their adventures with their mother, though.

  Natasha Williams, the Countess of Innesford, was the actual host of this annual gathering, although for these five days the normal roles of host and guest were blurred. She had raised her children in defiance of all society expectations. Raymond had sometimes envied the Williams set as he grew up, for they had unfettered access to their parents at all times of the day, every day, not just for these precious five days each year. Seth Williams, the late Earl, had been passionately against segregating his children. The Williams family had scandalized society by encouraging their children to talk when they wanted to, to share their troubles and woes, to hug with abandon and to love openly and affectionately.

  Natasha Williams had proposed the original Great Family Gathering, fourteen years ago. She had also insisted upon the unfettered mingling of children and adults. Raymond remembered that first year with a fondness that sometimes stole his breath. It had been five days of sheer delight and pure happiness.

  Very early in the evening, Raymond felt the strain of travelling begin to tell. He rose from the settee where he had stayed for the evening, while a constant cycle of cousins, brothers and sisters had sat next to him. They had not seen him for a year. Lilly, who was the oldest Williams girl, had hugged him before settling her petticoats and hoops and asking him in her quiet way to tell her what he was feeling.