Risk of Ruin Read online

  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 Risk of Ruin

  Praise for the Scandalous Scions series

  Risk of Ruin 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

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

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Copyright Information

  About Risk of Ruin

  Now she belongs to another, he realizes too late that he wants her.

  Lady Annalies is the daughter of the Earl of Innesford, but rejects society. Instead, she embraces the Bohemian art world, and lives in secret with her patron and lover, Tobias. The only person who knows the truth is her cousin, Peter, who furiously resents the burden of knowing how she courts disaster for the entire family.

  When sales of her paintings diminish, putting her in financial straits, Annalies turns to Peter for help, as he has always helped her in the past. Peter grasps the chance to involve himself in her life, to head off the catastrophe she flirts with every day. The entanglements increase when he realizes it is not merely the risk of ruin which draws him to her.

  This book is the eleventh 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

  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)

  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

  Bronwen Natasha Davies and Archeduke Edvard Christoffer of Silkeborg

  1870 Christina Clara Elisa Bronwen

  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)

  1864 Daniel Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)

  1866 Ève Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)

  1868 Alicia Martel Davies (Adopted in 1874)

  Daniel Rhys Williams & Catrin Elise Davies

/>   1871 Alice Edwina Williams

  Chapter One

  Abbey Road, St. John’s Wood, London. July 1873.

  How on earth was one supposed to become an artist celebrated and feted across the Continent if there was no canvas upon which to paint? Or pigments to put upon one’s brush?

  The questions repeated themselves in Annalies’ mind, circling faster and faster, until the repetitions matched her quick steps through the rambling upper floor, as she moved from one room to the next in search of Tobias.

  Each step built her anger and humiliation. They rubbed her insides raw. She wanted to stamp her foot and scream. As screaming would not resolve the problem, she searched, instead.

  Tobias was in the brown room. In the ten months Annalies had been living here, the big room at the far north corner of the house had acquired no official name. Tobias sometimes used it for his affairs, although it contained no desk and no books, and therefore could not be called a library. On her first visit to the room, the dark brown velvet drapes had caught her gaze and gave the room its name.

  The northern light made the room unsuitable for painting, so Annalies rarely came here. Most of her conversations with Tobias were held in the small sitting room, which was also their dining room. Occasionally, they spoke in their bedroom, too—but not about art.

  As she moved into the brown room, she was too angry to care that the room was cluttered and dim and far too warm for her comfort. She saw Tobias at the window and relief loosened some of the tension in her chest. “Tobias, thank God. Can you please deal with this? It is intolerable!” She thrust the note which Mrs. Thistlethwaite had given to her out toward Tobias, with a little shake for emphasis.

  Tobias came over to her and took the note. “What is this, then?” He read it, a furrow between his refined brows.

  As she often did, Annalies was struck once more by Tobias’ handsome features. He was an agreeable man to study. He was taller than many men—but not Annalies’ brothers. His rich black hair was brushed back from his brow, with a small wave at the front to keep it from being completely straight and without interest. His nose was straight, however. It had never been broken in a school yard tussle, or college encounter. Tobias was not in favor of physical exertions of any type.

  His chin was square and his jaw strong. Both framed his mouth nicely when he smiled. He was not smiling now.

  Despite the lagging heat of the afternoon, Tobias’s tie was properly knotted and his jacket still in place. His temples and forehead gleamed.

  “This heat is impossible,” Annalies murmured, glancing at the lace curtains at the sides of the wide-open window. They did not stir or flutter. “The paint slides right off the canvas!”

  Tobias lifted the note. “This was in your morning’s mail?”

  “I sent Mrs. Thistlethwaite to pick up items from Mr. Roberson’s establishment. He sent her back with that note instead.” Her chest tightened again, as she recalled the stiff, polite phrasing.

  …regret I must insist upon settlement of your account. Until then…

  “Hmm,” Tobias said, studying the note once more.

  “I need canvases, Tobias! I am completely out of saffron pigment, and the oils from anywhere other than Charles Roberson’s dry too quickly. I have only a thimbleful of turpentine remaining. Can you not visit Long Acre right now and settle the matter? I am quite stuck until you do.”

  Tobias laid the note upon the mantel over the cold fireplace. “Perhaps you should take a few days away from your easel, Lisa. A rest might do you good.”

  “A rest?” She squeezed her fist. “I cannot rest! You are the one who insisted I complete this sunset series. You said the Academy was waiting to consider it for the winter exhibition…”

  Tobias rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze shifting toward the window.

  “What is the matter, Tobias?” Annalies demanded. “Why do you look that way?”

  Tobias moved back to the window. “It is nothing you need worry about. I will take care of it. It is too hot to paint, anyway. You said the oil runs from the canvas. Might that be a good reason to enjoy a day or two of leisure?” He stood with his back to her, peering at the garden behind the house. It was not their garden, but belonged to the house behind theirs. The garden was lovely, filled with golden gladiolus and lavender, deep purple black pansies and the most glorious, pristine white roses which she longed to enshrine upon a canvas…

  Annalies pulled her attention back to the matter at hand. Dreaming about pictures she would never get to paint was avoiding the problem. “Roberson’s paints do not run in the heat,” she told Tobias. “Which is why I need them. I cannot stop now. Time is short as it is. Tobias, please look at me.”

  Instead, he crossed his arms, making his shoulders hunch. “There is nothing to pay the account with.”

  “Nonsense,” Annalies said. “Lord Dernholt purchased the Grecian Urn just last week.”

  Tobias sighed. “Really, Annalies, this is nothing you need concern yourself about. Let me deal with it. In a day or two, I will arrange fresh supplies and you can go back to work.”

  “I want to work now,” she replied. “Explain to me why I cannot.”

  “I did explain.”

  “Which I do not understand. My work is selling. You said it was.”

  “And all that money has been spent.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Tobias spun on his heel and flung out his hand. “Because the bills which must be paid far outweigh the guineas raised by your work! There is no money, Annalies. How much clearer must I be?”

  Her heart strummed and her stomach churned. “None at all?” Understanding curled cold, sickly fingers through her veins.

  Tobias sank onto the hard chair in the corner in a sudden movement, as if the strength had left his knees. He gripped the back of the chair with his thin fingers, the knuckles white, his gaze on the carpet.

  “But…” she began, helplessness gripping her middle. “Your family…”

  Tobias grimaced. It was almost a wince, she realized.

  “What is it?” she demanded once more, fright spearing through her. “Tell me.”

  His gaze lifted to meet hers. “My father cut me off.”

  Annalies brought her hand to her throat. Heat prickled there. “Why? Why? He has supported your ambitions for years. Why now?”

  Tobias dropped his head, to study the floor once more. “Because of you.”

  Annalies drew in a sharp breath. “Me?”

  He didn’t move. His shoulders were still slumped. “Because of…our domestic arrangement.”

  Horror chilled her. “You told your family?”

  “No, of course not,” Tobias replied quickly. “Father guessed, or perhaps he heard rumors—he has friends in common with ours. He challenged me on it and I couldn’t bring myself to lie to his face.”

  “Why not? I have lied to my family.” Bitterness tinged her voice.

  “Lisa, please…”

  The tiredness in his voice made her relent. “Oh, Tobias,” she breathed and moved to his side. She had trained herself to not touch Tobias whenever she was moved to do so. It was imperative she not reveal any tenderness or regard, or anything but the polite demeanor a protégé would hold for her patron, when they were in public. She fought the ingrained inhibition and rested her hand on his shoulder. “When did this happen?” she asked softly. “Your father, I mean.”

  “Months ago,” Tobias admitted.

  Months. “We have been living purely on my income since then?”

  “I had a few reserves, but…”

  Now those reserves were clearly gone. “Who else is demanding you settle accounts?” she asked suspiciously.

  Tobias didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His throat worked. His jaw flexed.

  “Everyone,” Annalies concluded. She felt ill. “Why did you not tell me?”

  “For this very reason,” Tobias replied. “To avoid seeing the look which is in your eyes right now.”
<
br />   Annalies didn’t know what look was in her eyes. It likely reflected the rich, sour feeling swirling in her chest and her belly. It was as if the floor had fallen out from under her feet, when she had been utterly sure of its ability to support her.

  In the space of a few minutes, the world had shifted and no longer looked the way it had before. It was not warm and welcoming. Security and comfort were an illusion. “This is why mutton has been so frequently upon the dinner table of late,” she murmured. She loathed mutton, particularly the smell, if not smothered in rosemary or gravy…but there had been no gravy, lately, either.

  Thank goodness it was summer and their need for coal and gas was lower than at any other time of the year!

  Other evidence occurred to her, facts she had failed to consciously note in the past now making themselves felt. “We’ve walked everywhere, lately. And you’ve stopped going to the Arts Club…Tobias, did you resign your membership?”

  He grimaced again.

  “Oh. It lapsed,” she murmured.

  Neither had they entertained any of their friends in the art world. Certainly not for the extended dinners and buffets which artists and their friends enjoyed regularly. Nor had they attended other hosts’ dinners, although Annalies did not point that out. She realized, with her swiftly building awareness, that Tobias had likely declined any dinner invitations because they could not return the hospitality.

  Tobias had hidden it all from her. Or perhaps she had simply failed to notice what was right before her. She would not be the first artist to move through their life in a haze of indifference to anything but the canvas and their brush. She believed herself to be above such weaknesses and lack of awareness. Annalies let the truth score her across the heart. She had been an ignorant fool.

  She smoothed her hand over Tobias’ shoulder, for he was not protesting at her familiarity as he usually did, even when they were alone. “How much do we owe?”