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Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book
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Once Upon An Earl
Heirs of High Society
Eleanor Meyers
A Regency Romance Book
Contents
Copyright
For You Personally
Also By Eleanor Meyers
ACT 01
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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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Epilogue
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ACT 02
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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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Epilogue
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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.
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This book cover designed by Sanja Gombar www.bookcoverforyou.com
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DEDICATION
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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
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ALSO BY ELEANOR MEYERS
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- 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 ***
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- HEIRS OF HIGH SOCIETY SERIES -
Part Series 1 :
The Beau Monde Brood
Once Upon An Earl
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PROLOGUE
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June 1788
The rumor of Lady Brandell’s dead child has reached my ears, and I mourn for her just as I do anyone else who experiences such tragedies. It’s hard for me to not think of her when I’ve a new foundling of my own to care for.
Nash cries daily, as though he knows he doesn’t belong here. Truly, none of the children do. In a perfect world, every mother and father would cling to their offspring. Children would grow up loved by those who brought them into the world. Each would have their own place in a family structure and in society, but Nash is not like many of the others.
Mr. Reed has brought me the child, this one kidnapped for its own good. He won’t tell me the home the child has come from, but with the quality of the clothing the child wore, I know he comes from wealth. And then he has a wealth of red
hair.
I can only think of three women in of Society who were with child. One was still carrying when last I saw her, and the other delivered safely. Then there was Lady Brandell. How odd that she is to lose one, and I gain one. I wish to make inquiries, but Mr. Reed has warned against it this time. He knows how I like to know the children’s backgrounds. Their past has a way of helping me with their future, but he’s saved so many children in the past. It’s the reason I trust him in this matter, even if I don’t trust him with anything else. He’s a very unsettling man, and came to me covered in dirt...
But something even more unsettling was when my maid told me of the disturbed grave in the background, a plot for the baby boy who’d died just a day go, God rest his soul.
It truly makes one wonder… Who would take a dead child and why?
-From the Diary of Mary Elizabeth Best
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May 1817
London, England
Nash Smith was going to kill him.
His stomach burned with anger and conviction. His blood pounded in his ears as he ran down the darkened road, cutting a straight path toward the Earl of Brandell’s terrace. His only thoughts were of how to take the man down.
Contrary to what most of those who knew him thought, he’d never killed a man before, not outright, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of it. He’d seen death. While in Newgate, he’d lived around men who might as well have been corpses. The foulest odor had clung to their thinning bodies, and the lack of food quickly made many waste away.
He wasn’t anxious at the possibility of returning. After sitting in a cell for a few weeks, he’d sworn that if he was released, he’d never go back again. He’s been angry at first, strong-willed with a notion that he was rarely wrong. All it had taken to cure his misguided conviction were a few months of listening to the men and women screaming, their voices raised as they tried to fend off attacks from both prisoners and guards. After that, he’d sworn he’d be a good man and live a holy life.
But purity never came with Nash’s freedom, for since the moment he’d stepped out of Newgate, he’d been forever changed, becoming harder than ever before, and only managing to hold the zenith of his anger leashed.
No one understood the extent of Nash’s mask, not even his family… or so he’d believed. For years, he’d tried to be the very example of a good man, but apparently, he’d never fooled either of his brothers. Both Chris and Reuben had known just what Nash was capable of, and had hidden a great secret from him.
The secret of his identity.
Until tonight.
He slowed his steps and glanced around. He wasn’t entirely sure where Brandell lived, but recalled seeing it in the books at the club he worked at. Turning right, he slowed his steps as he came into a neighborhood bustling with the ton. Carriages flooded the streets. The hour was nearly midnight and the parties had been underway for hours, yet many would continue into the wee hours of the morning.
He wondered if Brandell was presently at a party. He’d not thought of that, as he’d decided to pursue the man, deciding he’d throttle the earl with his bare hands.
And to think Brandell was his own uncle. The man who’d ordered his death! The one who’d tried to have Nash killed as a babe, so that he could take the title.
Nash was the true Earl of Brandell.
And the world would never know it. Who would believe him? Not a soul. Well, maybe there’d be a few. In the last two years, news of the discovery of illegitimate heirs had been published in all of London’s papers. Nash’s old caretaker, a woman named Mary Elizabeth Best, had kept a journal over twenty-two years, that spoke of the foundlings under her care, naming their parents, and revealing the truth behind their circumstances. Of course, the journal had never been meant to be read by the public. No one knew who had the journals, much less who was giving them to the papers, yet one child after another was being revealed.
Would Nash’s story be printed for all of London to see? He prayed not. He didn’t even want the title. What he wanted was justice.
He kept this in mind, as he glanced at the crowd that had formed a line to be received by whatever host stood inside the townhouse doors. From the open windows, Nash could hear music, and there was enough light for him to make out people dancing and laughing.
It amazed him to know he’d been born of that world.
The son of an earl. His father, Vinci Wolfgang, would likely still be alive, if Rez Wolfgang hadn’t snuffed the life out of him, treating his own kin as though he were less than nothing.
There had been rumors that Rez had killed Vinci. A “hunting accident” the papers had claimed. The death had taken place years after Nash was born. As a child in an orphanage, he’d never cared when anyone died. He hadn’t understood what it meant at the time and hadn’t known Vinci in order to miss him.
Another loss for him.
And now that Nash knew what his uncle was capable of, he was convinced Rez had a hand in the murder. Perhaps he’d let him live long enough to find out the truth. Perhaps not.
He stopped and stared at the gentlemen in their dark suits, and the women in their stunning gowns.
As a young orphan, he’d always wanted more, and he’d been told that even as child, he’d acted as though he deserved it.
That was because I’d been a lord.
Lord what? What had been his true name? The papers that had published Vinci’s death had only mentioned an heir who’d died shortly after birth.
Yet here Nash stood.
Why?
His brothers, or rather, the men who’d been like brothers to him until tonight, had found Mary Best’s journal years ago, as young men. They’d read Nash’s story, but couldn’t remember all the details.
And now, the journal was in the hands of someone else they’d yet to find.
They’d meant well, Nash knew. They’d known what Nash would do if he found out, but what man would not defend his own death, false or not? Retribution for his father was simply another reason to go after the man.
A driver stopped a carriage only feet in front of Nash, and a footman stepped down from the back.
“The party looks like a real crush,” Nash said to the young man.
The footman looked up in the dark, studied Nash’s clothing, and finding it to be of quality, nodded. “Yes, sir. It does seem that way.”
Nash moved over to him and lowered his voice. From his pocket, he produced two farthings. “Would you happen to know if Lord Brandell is there?”
The footman took the coins. “No, but I can find out.” He grinned and dashed off.
Nash stepped away and waited for the young man’s return.
It didn’t take him long. Servants tended to make friends with other servants during such events, and Nash could often count on them for gossip, especially when that gossip wasn’t about their own employer.
“Brandell isn’t there,” the man said. “Apparently, he’s at his usual club, meeting with a few friends. His sons, however, are in attendance.
Karl and Jolan. Nash had heard of them, heard that they were like day and night. Karl seemed passionate about everything, almost insanely so, while Jolan cared for very little.
His cousins.