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  Tales of a Viscount

  Heirs of High Society

  Eleanor Meyers

  A Regency Romance Book

  Contents

  Copyright

  For You Personally

  Also By Eleanor Meyers

  Part 1.1

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  Prologue

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  1

  Chapter One

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  2

  Chapter Two

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  3

  Chapter Three

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  4

  Chapter Four

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  5

  Chapter Five

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  6

  Chapter Six

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  7

  Chapter Seven

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  8

  Chapter Eight

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  9

  Chapter Nine

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  10

  Chapter Ten

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  11

  Chapter Eleven

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  12

  Chapter Twelve

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  13

  Chapter Thirteen

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  14

  Chapter Fourteen

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  15

  Chapter Fifteen

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  16

  Chapter Sixteen

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  17

  Chapter Seventeen

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  18

  Chapter Eighteen

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  19

  Chapter Nineteen

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  20

  Chapter Twenty

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  21

  Chapter Twenty-one

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  22

  Chapter Twenty-two

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  23

  Chapter Twenty-three

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  24

  Chapter Twenty-four

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  25

  Chapter Twenty-five

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  26

  Chapter Twenty-six

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  27

  Chapter Twenty-seven

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  28

  Chapter Twenty-eight

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  29

  Chapter Twenty-nine

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  30

  Chapter Thirty

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  31

  Chapter Thirty-one

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  32

  Chapter Thirty-two

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  Epilogue

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  Part 1.2

  Prologue

  .

  1

  Chapter One

  .

  2

  Chapter Two

  .

  3

  Chapter Three

  .

  4

  Chapter Four

  .

  5

  Chapter Five

  .

  6

  Chapter Six

  .

  7

  Chapter Seven

  .

  8

  Chapter Eight

  .

  9

  Chapter Nine

  .

  10

  Chapter Ten

  .

  11

  Chapter Eleven

  .

  12

  Chapter Twelve

  .

  13

  Chapter Thirteen

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  14

  Chapter Fourteen

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  15

  Chapter Fifteen

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  16

  Chapter Sixteen

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  17

  Chapter Seventeen

  .

  Epilogue

  .

  Preview of Next Book

  ORDER OF BOOKS . Also By

  For You Personally

  Publishers Notes

  Copyright © 2018 by

  Eleanor Meyers

  All Rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * * * *

  * * *

  DEDICATION

  * * *

  This book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!

  Authors wouldn't be anywhere without readers like you, so your support REALLY means a lot to me!

  As a Regency Romance writer, my desire is to touch my readers through my stories by intertwining love and emotions in its most humane way.

  Sign up for Eleanor Meyers’s New Releases mailing list and you will be automatically get notified as soon as her future series is available.

  Click the Find Out More link below to get started:

  LINK: Find Out More

  * * *

  ALSO BY ELEANOR MEYERS

  * * *

  - WARDINGTON PARK SERIES -

  Series Part 01 : Raptures of Royalty

  Book 1 - To Love A Lord of London

  Book 2 - The Regards of A Rogue

  Series Part 02 : Madness in Mayfair

  Book 3 - Gaining The Gentleman

  Book 4 - The Skills of A Scoundrel

  Book 5 - A Gentleman’s Game

  Series Part 03 : The Elkins Brothers

  Book 6 - The Gentleman’s Game of Love

  Book 7 - The Gentleman’s Law on Love

  Series Part 04 : Tots of The Ton

  Book 8 - How To Make A Marquess

  Book 9 - How To Design A Duke

  Book 10 - How To Keep A Knight

  Series Part 05 : The Abbey Brothers

  Book 11 - Lady Lures The Earl

  Book 12 - Lady Lands The Lord

  Book 13 - Lady Likes The Lord

  Series Part 06 (Finale) : Order of the Second Sons

  Book 14 - The Son Of A Marquess

  Book 15 - The Son Of A Soldier

  Book 16 - The Son Of An Earl

  (finale book in the series) Book 17 - The New Marquess

  Find out more of my other historical romance series

  Click the link below to get started

  *** Amazon US ***

  * * *

  Got something to share?

  I would want to hear from you!

  So please do get in touch with me:

  https://www.facebook.com/eleanormeyersbooks

  [email protected]

  - HEIRS OF HIGH SOCIETY SERIES -

  Part Series 1 :

  The Beau Monde Brood

  Tales of a Viscount

  * * *

  PROLOGUE

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  October, 1795

  London, England

  It amazes me how a child can turn out so very similar to their parents without any influence whatsoever. That’s the power of blood. And sadly, while many of my children will inherit the very finest attributes of their parents, some may inherit the darker parts.

  I’ve yet to glimpse a darkness in Reuben.

  He’s ten, and already he’s decided the course for his life. He wishes to be a soldier, and I must admit that he’ll make a very fine protector. I’ve watched the way he stands guard for Alexandra, and takes care of Rose as though she were his very own. Even now, he sits with me in my study, his dark head bent, as he rocks the sickly infant to sleep. Whenever another child comes around, behaving wildly or being boisterous, all Reuben must do is give them a look, and t
hey vanish.

  That look is one I’ve seen the Duke of Yall give to another lord on more than one occasion. Father and son will take separate courses in life, but I’ve no doubt that Reuben will be just as much a leader of men, as the Duke of Yall.

  But what stands out to me most, is the gentleness I glimpse in him. From whence did it come? His mother? How I’d have loved to meet the woman, God rest her soul.

  Either way, I will nurture that gentleness as much as I can, and pray that when he grows up, he will nurture it in others.

  For that is the true duty of my station. To give, and thus, create givers.

  -From the Diary of Mary Elizabeth Best

  * * *

  PROLOGUE

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  February, 1817

  “Shall I introduce you to Lord Eastridge, my dear?”

  Rachel Lush looked into the Earl of Woodley’s knowing eyes and groaned. She’d been caught staring once again. The teasing that lit up his face took twenty years from his appearance. At forty-seven, he’d hardly aged in the last decade, both physically and mentally. Charles Lush enjoyed playing the dandy at times. He had the heart of a young man, full of laughter and good cheer, but was as sly as a fox when he wished to be.

  She turned away. Playing with the high collar of her dress, she answered in a low voice, “That won’t be necessary.” The noise in the dining room drowned out their conversation even from the rest of the guests at their table. Laughter, music, and the clinking of silverware and champagne glasses rang out, as the ladies and gentlemen dined on the extravagant breakfast. “Rose has already promised to do so, herself.” The last thing she wanted was for her father to embarrass her, by introducing her to the man she’d been thinking about more and more, as time went on.

  Besides, introductions weren’t actually necessary, since Rachel had known him before he’d become a lord, but that was long ago.

  Woodley patted his daughter’s hand and bent his gray head toward hers. “Today is Rose’s wedding. Surely, she’d be far too distracted to remember such things as promised introductions.”

  Rachel hoped not, and yet at the same time...

  Was she truly ready to move on? It had been nearly six years since her fiancé, Lord Stacy’s, death. Many forgot she’d ever been engaged, and yet, Rachel hadn’t. She had been fifteen when she’d become engaged to Stacy, and sixteen when he’d died in a riding accident. And though seven years had passed since then, no man had ever interested Rachel.

  Until last year, when Reuben Smith had returned to her life.

  Once a footman in their home, he’d returned from war a colonel and a lord.

  “Lady Rachel,” one of the Anns called to her. Anna and Annie were a pair of sisters who looked like twins, but were in fact, not, though Rachel had no clue who was the eldest. They both had pale brown hair and striking blue eyes.

  Anna, Rachel thought, leaned toward her.

  “Your dress, it’s quite becoming on you. It makes you very darling.” Anna gave a snide smile. “Why, you look all of twelve.”

  Rachel stiffened, as the blow hit her squarely in the heart.

  Annie giggled, lifting a hand to show her diamond bracelet, a gift from her fiancé, who was a duke’s son— a third son— but a blue-blooded man, nonetheless.

  Darling. It was what Stacy had called her. His darling.

  He’d liked her this way, innocent and gentle, and yet over the last year, such endearments had begun to irritate her. For the first time, she realized she didn’t want to be darling. She wanted to be…

  She didn’t know what, but definitely not that. And she was a woman, not a twelve-year-old! She knew Anna was teasing. She knew she didn’t look that young, though on more than one occasion, someone had, in fact, thought her closer to sixteen than twenty-two.

  She thought to mention to Anna how gracefully and well she seemed to be aging, but then decided against it. She would not be pulled into the Ann games.

  Anna asked, “Did Lord Obenshire say where he was taking Lady Rose for their wedding trip?” Her eyes were hopeful, but Rachel knew there to be no kindness in the look. Instead, she hoped that Obenshire would elect to keep his wife home, not wishing him to spend so much time alone with his new bride.

  She glanced up to find the woman in question. Rose stood unashamedly close to her groom, an act that would not serve to ease her way into Society, but Rose didn’t care, for she’d married the man of her dreams, and that was all that mattered.

  Rachel smiled at Ann. “They’re heading to the Continent for two months. They’ll see Italy and Greece. Barely a servant will accompany them, Obenshire wishes to have her all to himself.” And Rachel would miss her friend.

  “Oh.” Anna frowned and leaned away, before turning to whisper to her sister.

  She didn’t have to wonder why such people had been invited to the celebration. The Anns were the daughters of a marquess. But neither Rose nor Obenshire seemed to care what anyone thought.

  The groom, Lord Obenshire, looked just as pleased as his wife, as he stood with his hand on her lower back, introducing Rose as his countess. Everyone who stood to be received offered her smiles, but Rachel took note that more than one woman turned away with obvious disapproval in their eyes.

  Obenshire was an earl only by his father’s courtesy, but was actually set to one day take on a dukedom. Many families had hoped he would choose one of their daughters for wife, but all had been disappointed when he’d married Rose Smith, a woman who’d grown up in an orphanage.

  A bastard, they whispered.

  And it made little difference that her father was, in fact, the Marquess of Stonewhire, or that the marquess doted on the girl and had given her a handsome fortune. She’d been born outside his marriage, and thus, would never be good enough.

  This was not to say all the blue-blooded families thought this way, but there were many who did, and in the last few weeks, a few had become very vocal about it.

  Rose had not been the first illegitimate child to claim one of England’s most powerful titles. Rose’s sister Alexandra— who was not her sister by blood, but by a shared history, and who Rachel counted a friend as well— had also married well and was now a countess.

  The ton feared a trend was being set. Lords and ladies alike feared what would happen if commoners thought to rise above their station. They’d even given themselves a name. The Blue Blood Coalition. The group stood firmly against the rise of paupers to prosperity.

  Who would iron their clothes, or make their tea, if everyone married wealthy? And more importantly, who would their precious daughters marry if all the Beau Monde men claimed paupers?

  Rachel laughed whenever such a conversation was started around her, because she, an earl’s daughter, had found herself thinking more and more about a man who’d once been nothing more than a servant.

  Her gaze moved across the room from the Obenshire pair, to find the man who’d left her for a great many years, yet had never truly left her thoughts.

  Reuben.

  She smiled at just the thought of his name, and had to fight to hide her smile. It was such a silly thing that a man’s name could cause her to blush. What was coming over her? She watched, smiling, as he escorted Lady Davis away from the newly wedded couple and toward her seat. Lady Davis walked with the aid of a cane in one hand, and Reuben’s arm on the other.

  Rachel gripped the sturdy table, and knew that Reuben’s arm was likely firmer than the wood. He was tall and toned and built like a fighter, with hands so large she wondered if his gloves were specially made to fit his long fingers. His physique had likely served him well in the military, and, combined with his intelligence, it was no wonder he’d become a Colonel in less than six years.