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  Special Offer

  Learn the origins of the Great Family!

  The Great Family was not always a great family.

  In October 1843, Anna & Rhys, Natasha & Seth, Elisa & Vaughn all face problems, their hearts heavy with the challenges of life.

  This is the origins story of the Scandalous Scions series—the first great family gathering, where traditions that will last a generation are born and Anna & Rhys, Natasha & Seth, Elisa & Vaughn meld into a single, united family.

  Find out how the couples of Scandalous Sirens learn that together, they are stronger.

  This novelette has not been commercially released for sale. It is only available as a gift to readers of the series, who subscribe to Tracy’s Newsletter.

  Click here to get your copy.

  http://tracycooperposey.com/free-copy-of-lost-at-sea/

  Table of Contents

  Special Offer

  About Queen of Hearts

  Praise for the Scandalous Scions series

  Queen of Hearts Title Page

  The Great Families

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Queen of Hearts

  In America, she met an Indian called River.

  Sadie travelled to America when she was nineteen, leaving behind her great family, to learn more about her real parents and how they died. While traveling in the Columbia River territories, her party is attacked by Indians and saved by a different tribe. Among them is the brave she comes to know as River.

  Sadie learns that not only is River an Englishman, he is the son of the Duke of Caldwell. When his family learns he survived his parents’ death when he was an infant, River faces a choice: Leave Sadie and his tribe behind, or let the people of Caldwell suffer at the hands of his indifferent and selfish uncle…

  This book is the thirteenth and final book in the Scandalous Scions series, bringing together the members of three great families, to love and play under the gaze of the Victorian era’s moralistic, straight-laced society.

  This story is part of the Scandalous Scions series:

  0.5 Rose of Ebony

  1.0 Soul of Sin

  2.0 Valor of Love

  3.0 Marriage of Lies

  4.0 Mask of Nobility

  5.0 Law of Attraction

  6.0 Veil of Honor

  7.0 Season of Denial

  8.0 Rules of Engagement

  9.0 Degree of Solitude

  10.0 Ashes of Pride

  11.0 Risk of Ruin

  12.0 Year of Folly

  13.0 Queen of Hearts

  A Sexy Historical Romance

  Praise for the Scandalous Scions series

  If you haven't started this series, start right now and you will fall in love with this very unconventional family during a time when rules, etiquette and unwritten rules had to be followed or the lack of them would bring scandal and ruin to an entire family.

  I love these books. Tracy creates these characters so well and with such care. I really recommend reading this series.

  I am overwhelmed by how much I have enjoyed this series so far. It was not superficial fluff as I thought it might be when I began. Cooper-Posey books have touched on so many universal themes.

  Her characters are admirable people who love their family and are capable of deep romantic love as well.

  I just love this series and the books just keep getting better and better. This series takes us on a romp through historical times, which I love.

  If you haven't read this magnificent series you must do so now; you will love each story, be moved by each of them, fall in love with the heroines and heroes, you will cheer for them and just as loudly boo the villains.

  Love this series and have bought them all.

  This entire series is filled with so much love for each other and family, that there is no way you cannot be emotionally drawn into each story.

  The Great Families

  Elisa and Vaughn Wardell

  Marquess of Farleigh, 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 (January)

  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 (February)

  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 (October)

  1843 Sadie Hedley Davies (adopted in 1845)

  1846 Bronwen Natasha Davies

  1848 Alice Thomasina Davies (adopted at birth)

  1849 Catrin Elise Davies

  And their children:

  Natasha and Raymond Devlin

  Viscount Marblethorpe

  1857 Vaughn Elis Devlin (Raymond’s heir)

  1861 Richard Seth Devlin

  Lilly and Jasper Thomsett

  1862 Seth Eckhard Thomsett (heir)

  1863 Elise Marie & Anne Louise Thomsett

  1864 George Jasper Thomsett (stillborn)

  1876 Jessica Louise Thomsett

  Sharla and Dane Balfour + Benjamin Hedley (Davies)

  Duke of Wakefield

  1867 Jennifer Jane Balfour & Benjamin Dane Balfour (heir)

  1868 Alice Thomasina Balfour

  1871 John William Balfour

  1873 Patricia Sharla Balfour

  1875 Stephen Spearing Balfour

  Bronwen Natasha Davies and Archeduke Edvard Christoffer of Silkeborg

  1870 Christina Clara Elisa Bronwen

  1874 Edvard Erhard Jasper Nicholas

  John (Jack) Gladwin Lochlann Mayes and Gwendolyn (Jenny) Violet Moore Wardell-Ryder

  Baron Guestwick, heir to the Marquess of Laceby

  1864 Jackson Vaughn Ryder

  1866 Stuart Theodore Ryder

  1869 Phillip Dane Mayes

  William Vaughn Wardell & Bridget Bronte Williams

  Viscount Rothmere, heir to the Marquess of Fairleigh

  1869 Elizabeth Anne Wardell

  1871 Vaughn Raymond Wardell

  1873 Mairin Elisa Wardell

  Iefan William Davies & Mairin May Williams

  1863 Adam Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)
r />   1864 Daniel Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)

  1866 Ève Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)

  1868 Alicia Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)

  Richard Cian Seth Williams & Eleanore Elizabeth Neville

  1875 Cian Richard Williams

  Daniel Rhys Williams & Catrin Elise Davies

  1871 Alice Edwina Williams

  1873 Rhys Raymond Williams

  1876 Lisa Grace Williams

  Neil Vaughn Williams & Blanche Brigitte Colombe Bonnay

  1875 James Rene Williams & David Neil Williams

  1877 Brigitte May Williams

  Peter Lovell Wardell & Annalies Grace Williams

  1875 Delaney David Wardell

  1876 Graeme Peter Wardell

  Morgan Harrow Davies & Emma Jane Wardell (Williams)

  1875 Alexander Morgan Davies

  1877 Blair Rhys Davies

  Chapter One

  The TSS Queen of Hearts, Portsmouth Harbour, Portsmouth, Hampshire, Britain. May 1878.

  Portsmouth was not Southampton in either grace or popularity. Southampton, twenty miles up-river, was where all the well-regarded shipping lines were permitted to dock. Portsmouth, on the other hand, was a far more workmanlike quay. Sadie stood upon the top deck and examined the dirty dock and the filthy clothing of the dock workers who scurried to catch the heavy anchor ropes her crew threw to them. She tried to be content.

  After all, this was England. She had not stepped upon English soil for sixteen years. It would feel strange to do so now. Even the weather was different here—far more damp than she remembered, and not nearly as sunny as she was used to. New York could be cold and Washington even colder, yet the days there did not seem to press in on one the way this day was.

  A man in a good suit stood upon the dock observing the Queen of Hearts tie up and the access ramps slide out to thud against the dock. He appeared to be a dandy—what they would call a toff, here, she supposed. He wore striped pants and a flower in his lapel. His top hat was tall. Yet he seemed to be taking an extraordinary interest in Sadie’s ship.

  Perhaps it was one of her passengers who held his interest. Maybe he was waiting for them to descend to the dock. There were already carriages waiting for them. Sadie could see the hansom cabs and coaches, and blowing, pawing horses lined up along the edge of the road behind the dock and the official buildings and warehouses. Because it was May and a brisk wind blew over the water, no one alighted from their coaches to greet the passengers when they stepped off the ship.

  She did not have a full roster of passengers for this journey. Sadie didn’t mind that, either. It was the maiden Atlantic crossing of the Queen. As she wasn’t publicly in the business of shipping yet, Sadie was happy with the twenty passengers she had brought over from New York. Their fares covered the costs of the crossing.

  The passengers were descending by the main gangplank, while their luggage was ferried down the secondary ramp. The man monitoring the Queen did not move forward to greet the passengers.

  Instead, he made his way over to where Dan Kempston, the Captain of the Queen of Hearts, stood at the bottom of the plank to bid everyone a polite farewell. He was an affable man, which was one reason why Sadie had employed him. He also had no lingering aversion to iron hulled steam ships and no romantic illusions about the glory of sailing ships.

  Kempston had been the perfect choice, for he didn’t mind taking directions from a woman, either. She had been terribly lucky to find him within a few days of beginning her search for a captain for her new ship.

  The dandy in the striped pants moved directly to Kempston, removed his top hat and spoke earnestly, while Kempston listened, his smile fading.

  Then Kempston swiveled to look up at Sadie where she stood on the top deck. He pointed to the man, then at her.

  The man wanted to speak to Sadie, then.

  Sadie nodded and Kempston moved aside to let the man up the gang plank. Kempston called to one of the crew stowing ropes and chains on the main deck. The deckhand touched his forehead and came over to the top of the ramp as the dandy stepped onto the deck. The crewman would lead the visitor through the ship and up to where Sadie stood.

  She put her back against the rail and stared out across the harbor, while the man climbed up to where she stood. She didn’t know who he was, except that he was not family or anyone she knew. Almost everyone she did know in England was family.

  When the visitor stepped out onto the deck and thanked the crewman for his directions, Sadie saw he was older than she had first presumed. He came over to her, his top hat in hand. “Mrs. Watson?”

  “I am. And you are?”

  “Harold Standing. I am a journalist with The Times newspaper.”

  “You came all the way down to Portsmouth?”

  “The train only takes a few hours. Although you arrived early, considering when you left New York.”

  “The advantages of steam, Mr. Standing. I don’t have to wait for the tides or the wind to be in my favor.” In fact, they had arrived six hours earlier than Kempston’s best estimate, which boded well for future journeys.

  “May I interview you, Mrs. Watson?” Standing asked.

  “Me?” Sadie laughed. “I think you may have wasted your few hours of travel, Mr. Standing. I have nothing interesting to say for your newspaper.”

  “On the contrary, Mrs. Watson. You are the daughter of the Princess Annalies—”

  “Adopted daughter,” Sadie amended quickly.

  “Adopted,” Standing repeated, showing no irritation for the correction. “You are from one of the great families of England, you traveled to America by yourself when you were nineteen—”

  “Hardly by myself,” Sadie corrected him once again. “I was a paid companion for a lady and her husband.”

  The man grinned, showing uneven teeth beneath his full beard. He had quick, intelligent eyes. “Cynthia, Lady Collingwood. You stayed in America when they returned, though, and made yourself a rather large amount of money.”

  “I made a fortune,” Sadie said, her tone dry. “That is what they would say in New York.”

  “You made a fortune,” Standing said, with another quick, easy smile. “And now you are the owner of a boat—ship,” he corrected himself. “A steam ship seems to be an odd choice for a lady with a fortune. That is a story which will interest the Times readers,” he finished.

  “I’m afraid there is little to add to what you already know, Mr. Standing,” Sadie replied. “I am not a very interesting person. I work hard and I have been lucky. That is all.”

  “Yes, but why choose to buy a ship?”

  A memory slipped into Sadie’s mind, one which often came to her when she was standing on this deck. The memory was old and there were few details she could clearly remember. She did remember the creak of ropes and the slush of water against a wooden hull. She had stood upon the top deck of a ship under sail, watching the enormous sails snap and fill with wind; the lift of the prow of the boat over waves and the steady, majestic path across a sea which stretched in all directions. The memory always came with the sound of Uncle Seth’s voice as he picked her up and put her on the tall barrel so she could see over the edge of deck railing. “There be England, by and by,” Seth had told her, pointing. “First, a smudge on the horizon you’ll think is merely smoke or your tired eyes. Then it grows larger and larger, until you can see houses and horses and people.”

  “The sea is so big!” Sadie had told him, her voice sounding high compared to his.

  “‘tis powerfully big,” Seth told her. “And this little sea we’re crossing is one of the smallest, yet still it is larger than most things on this earth. Makes one feel humble, which is the way a man should be.”

  The memory petered after that. Sadie could not have been very old at all, yet she remembered the salt of the sea and the touch of the wind and sun upon her cheeks…and the breadth of the ocean. She had not known it then, but her love for the open sea and the far horizons had been inst
illed on that voyage.

  Sadie blinked and brought her attention back to Mr. Standing.

  He was scratching at his forehead. “I beg to differ, Mrs. Watson. Your story is the most interesting one I’ve written in a month. Investments and sessions in the House of Lords grow staid after a while. Will you be staying in England long?”

  Sadie’s heart gave a little thud. “I’m not certain at this time,” she said truthfully. “I have a great deal of business to settle while I am here and won’t be socializing.”

  “You won’t be visiting your family at all?”

  “A short visit,” Sadie said carefully. “As you can see, Mr. Standing, I have no remarkable activities on my calendar worthy of reporting.”

  The man dug in his fob pocket and withdrew a card and held it toward her. “You do understand I will be writing an article about your return to England, anyway?”

  Sadie took the card. “If you wish to reduce the circulation of your newspaper by running such an unremarkable story, I cannot stop you.”

  “Indeed, you cannot. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Watson.” Standing gave her a polite nod and put his hat back on, then moved across the deck to the bulkhead door and disappeared inside. The crewman shut the door behind him. He would escort the journalist off the ship.

  Sadie turned once more to scan the land. From here, all she could see was the roofs of many houses, all of them belching smoke into the dull sky. Only forty-five miles to the west laid Marblethorpe, in west Sussex, where Papa Rhys and Mama Annalies now lived. Sadie could be there in just over an hour, using the trainline which now ran between Portsmouth and Storrington, and then on to London.

  She was home. Really home. Despite fifteen years of living in America and traveling from coast to coast, Sadie still could not think of that place as home. She still considered herself an English subject. She always had, even when she had learned she had been born in America.

 
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