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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.
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Table of Contents
Special Offer
About Mask of Nobility
Praise for Mask of Nobility
Mask of Nobility 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
1866 Great Family Gathering
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About the Author
Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Copyright Information
About Mask of Nobility
He’s royalty. She’s a commoner. Their association has no future.
Bronwen Davies is not only disinterested in marrying well, she has turned her back upon society, to live as freely as she can in the wilds of Northallerton, where she lives with her cousin Lilly and Lilly’s husband, Jasper.
Jasper’s half-brother, the Archeduke Edvard Christoffer of Silkeborg, arrives at Northallerton without warning, asking for temporary sanctuary from the pressures of his public life. There, he finds Bronwen, a most distracting diversion. Only, Bronwen’s unexpected opinions and forthright manner prove to be far more seductive than a simple distraction should be…
Mask of Nobility is the fourth book in the Scandalous Scions series, which 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
2.0 Valor of Love
3.0 Marriage of Lies
3.5 Scandalous Scions Boxed Set 1
4.0 Mask of Nobility
5.0 Law of Attraction
6.0 Veil of Honor
6.5 Scandalous Scions Boxed Set 2
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 Mask of Nobility
Once again I fell under Tracy Cooper-Posey’s spell with this story.
Reading this book gave me another very late night since I couldn’t stop reading it. I really should know better than to start one of Tracy’s books at night.
Tracy Cooper-Posey continues to both amaze and please me with her historical romances. Her books have raised the bar for what I enjoy in this genre.
A story where love conquers through the highs and lows of one's life and family is there to hold you up, is a story worth reading.
Tracy Cooper-Posey has a talent for making the characters so real, in a succinct way, that draws the reader's empathy while moving the action and adventure along at an exciting pace.
I grew up just outside Northallerton so I could picture the black faced sheep and the dales where this beautiful love story began. Tracy has done her homework!
There were a lot of laughs and even some tears. It seems you experience every emotion in the pages of her books.
I love it when a romance is more than just a romance that's why I adored reading the story of free spirited, unconventional Bronwen.
This author is a great storyteller and I loved the wit and humor throughout the book.
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
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)
Chapter One
The Great Family Gathering. Cornwall, October, 1864.
Princess Annalies Benedickta Davies of the royal Saxe-Coburg-Weiden dynasty rested the back of her trembling hand against her fine brow. “Perhaps it is impossible for a princess to raise children by herself. I don’t know, anymore. The books lay it out perfectly and sensibly. I have both of you as inspiring examples of motherhood, yet I think…I suspect…I have failed as an ordinary mother.”
Natasha rested on the ottoman in front of Annalies’ chair, the twenty-five yards of tartan skirt of her dress spread around her like petals of a colorful flower. Annalies wondered if, hidden beneath the hoops, Natasha had her limbs arranged comfortably in an unladylike pose. From the waist up, she was a most elegant lady. A beautiful one, too. Natasha seemed to grow more lovely with each passing year.
“There is nothing ordinary about you, Anna,” Natasha said, resting her hand on the Princess’, where it lay limp on the arm of the wing chair.
“Exactly,” Annalies replied, with not a trace of pride. “I cannot fulfill a simple biological function of womanhood. Bronwen is completely out of hand. Look at her.”
Natasha
studied Bronwen, the subject of their discussion. Anna’s daughter sprawled on the big armchair on the other side of the big room. She sat with her legs draped over the arm of the chair. The arrangement was only possible because she wore no hoops and no corset. She bent in the middle.
Worse, the feet she swung, her heels kicking the side of the chair with every arc, were quite bare. Her pink toes peeped beneath the dirty hem of her petticoat.
Bronwen’s hair, which was perhaps her best feature, if one did not first notice her clear gray eyes, was thick and long, ending well beneath her waist. Annalies knew the exact length because Bronwen had not bothered to pin it up. It hung free, only the side sections swept up to the back of her head. Bronwen would have arranged it that way for convenience’s sake and no other reason.
There was not a single bow anywhere on Bronwen’s ensemble. Not a scrap of lace, no embroidery, not a hint of embellishment. The buttons were plain bone things. Annalies suspected one or more of the buttons on her bodice might be missing. She was too afraid to look closely, for the confirmation would overwhelm her with despair.
“How could she let herself descend to such…such…” Annalies said, her throat tight.
“Freedom?” Natasha asked. “She’s still young, Anna. Yes? Nineteen, I calculate?”
Anna pressed her lips together. “You were married at nineteen. Elisa was a mother at nineteen.” She glanced at Elisa, who did not react. “Elisa, are you even listening?”
Elisa sat on the upright chair on Annalies’ other side, her knees together and her skirt pooling around her boots, her hands together in her lap. She peered about the busy, crowded room.
Then she stirred. “Hmm?” She turned her head as if she was loath to look away. “Excuse me?” She frowned, her gaze turning inward for a heartbeat. “I was listening!” she protested, her frown clearing.
“Then it was not Bronwen you were studying so closely?” Natasha said.
Elisa smiled. It was a small expression, heated with emotion. “I am afraid you have both caught me indulging in motherly pride. I do apologize, Anna. It will seem as though I am trying to rub it in, only I cannot help watching the three of them and…oh, I am just so pleased!”
“The three of whom?” Anna asked. For the first time, she yanked her gaze away from her wayward daughter and cataloged the family members in the big room.
There was only one grouping of three among the couples and large circles of people laughing and talking and taking afternoon tea. Travers and his men were still to reach Anna’s side of the room with their trays of tea, sugar and cream, and the plate of scones and pots of jam. They had not yet served the little group of three, either.
Ben kept company with Sharla and her husband, the Duke of Wakefield. All three stood together, intent on their conversation. Sharla watched Wakefield’s face as he spoke, a small smile on her glowing face. Ben was also listening. His arm was about Sharla’s waist.
As Wakefield finished speaking, the three of them laughed. Ben rested his other hand on Wakefield’s shoulder, a comradely gesture. Wakefield tugged at the ribbon bow Sharla wore at her neck, arranging it properly, before patting it into place. They were all intimate, familiar touches.
Anna’s heart squeezed.
“All three of them?” she whispered, her throat clamping so she could barely breathe.
Natasha turned, peering.
Elisa shook her head. “No, no. Ben and Sharla are together. Wakefield is part of it, only…not.” Her cheeks grew pink.
“Why not?” Anna demanded.
Elisa rolled her eyes.
Natasha laughed. “Because…well, think about it, Anna.”
Anna felt the jolt down to her bones. “Oh…!” she breathed, studying Wakefield once more. “Who would ever have guessed?”
“I think that is the point,” Natasha said. “No one is supposed to guess at all. At least, not outside the family, yes, Elisa?”
“Inside the family, we do as we please,” Elisa finished. “And their arrangement pleases them very much. Just look at them. I’ve never seen any of them happier.”
Anna took in Ben’s relaxed pose. His arm about Sharla. The warmth and peace in his dark eyes. Yes, Elisa was right. “Ben asked to speak to me and Rhys after tea,” Anna said. “Now I know why.”
“You are pleased for him, aren’t you?” Natasha asked, with an anxious note.
Anna considered it. “Yes,” she said. “I believe I am. It isn’t a conventional arrangement, although if they’re happy…”
“Ben is his mother’s son,” Elisa said. “Convention has never been a strong suit of yours. Why should it be his?”
“Which brings me right back to the problem child of the day,” Anna replied, glancing at Bronwen again. Bronwen was eating her cream-ladened scone, her head back as she lowered the entire scone down into her mouth with patent relish.
Anna sighed. “This is my fault. I failed them as a mother.”
“Nonsense,” Elisa said. “Ben is happy after years of moping and anger. Bronwen will find her way. You must give her more than the usual amount of time. Your children are all as headstrong as you, Anna. Even your adoptees acquired your stubborn streak.”
“Thank you, I think,” Anna said. “Although if Bronwen must have time to find her way, I do wish she wouldn’t do it quite so…publicly. Our family has always kept our messes private. Bronwen seems to be determined to cavort where everyone can see her disgrace.”
“She wants to be just like her big sister Sadie, that is all,” Natasha replied.
“Sadie is at least experimenting with life in America where no one cares,” Anna replied.
A hand rested on Anna’s shoulder, drawing her attention to behind the chair. Jasper smiled at her and withdrew his hand. “I apologize for eavesdropping. It wasn’t my intention. I was standing to one side, waiting for Lilly to arrive.”
“Lilly is upstairs with the twins?” Elisa asked.
“She should be done by now,” Jasper said. “I interrupted, because I believe I can offer a temporary solution regarding Bronwen, Princess.”
“I’m listening,” Anna said. “At this stage, I will listen to anyone,” she added.
Jasper crouched down next to the chair so all three women could see him without straining their necks. “I will not interpret that as literally as you spoke it.”
Anna put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, Jasper, of course I didn’t mean it that way! I do apologize—”
He held up a hand, his eyes dancing. “Natasha is correct. You must give Bronwen time. She has had a privileged upbringing, yet she is the daughter of a princess and a commoner. It can be confusing. I speak from experience.”
Anna nodded. “Yes, your father, the Archeduke of Silkeborg. We are second cousins, Jasper. My grandmother married your father’s great grandfather.”
“Aren’t all the Continental families threaded together, if you go back far enough?” Elisa asked.
“Most likely,” Anna admitted. “Although, again I must apologize, Jasper. It isn’t until this moment I even made the connection.”
“I grew up not speaking about my father,” Jasper told her. “I find the habit hard to dismiss. It is not entirely your fault.”
“You said you had an idea about Bronwen, Jasper?” Natasha asked.
Jasper’s smile grew wicked. “On how to give her time while minimizing her reputation’s destruction among society? Yes. Let Bronwen come and live with me and Lilly for a while.”
Anna drew in a breath, hope flaring. “At Northallerton?”
“The house is more than big enough,” Jasper said. “Even with Lilly and me, little Seth and the twins, we still rattle about the place. Another adult would be welcome company for Lilly, too. I spend far too many of my days placating angry Yorkshiremen.”
“Bronwen could run wild in the north, Anna,” Elisa added. “No one would take the slightest interest in her, there.”
Anna looked once more at her daughter. Bronwen was drinking her
tea, now, holding the cup without the saucer and catching drips with her other hand. Anna winced. “I accept, Jasper,” she told him. “With my desperate and humble thanks.”
“We’ll take care of your daughter, Princess,” Jasper replied. “They say the air in the Vale is a cure for many ills.”
“I most certainly hope so,” Anna said and sighed.
Chapter Two
Northallerton, Yorkshire. October 1865. One year later.
As they topped the last rise, the view opened across the valley, all the way to the great York road, on the far side. Running toward the road was Bullamoor Road, which Bronwen and Agatha had been following from a distance. On Bullamoor Road a carriage was heading west, toward Northallerton. Vehicles were unusual. The road was always empty.
Bronwen glanced at Agatha, to see she was not too breathless. These long walks were her precious joy, only her health was not what it used to be.
Agatha, though, was peering at the road and the carriage on it. Her eyes were too weak to read, yet her sight was keener than Bronwen’s over great distances. The corners of her eyes wrinkled as she peered. “It isn’t moving.”
Bronwen looked again. After staring for long moments, she realized the carriage had made no progress along the road. It was still in the same location where she had first spotted it. “We can go farther south, instead,” she told Agatha. They had been heading for the moors on the other side of the York road, where they hoped to find wild garlic and the last of the bog rosemary before the frosts.
“We should see if they need help.”
Bronwen laughed. “Help from us? We’re two women.”
“No one stops on the road that way unless they’re forced to it.”
Bronwen scowled at the motionless carriage. It looked small and far away. “Are you sure?” Agatha didn’t like dealing with other people. Although, other people didn’t like dealing with her. Bronwen wasn’t sure which had come first.
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