Legacy of Succession

by Anna Edwards

  LEGACY OF SUCCESSION

  A DARK SOVEREIGNTY NOVEL

  ANNA EDWARDS

  Copyright © 2018 by Anna Edwards

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  www.AuthorAnnaEdwards.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.

  Disclaimer: Please do not try any sexual practice without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither the publisher nor the author will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from the use of the information contained in this book.

  Cover Design by www.CharityHendry.com

  Logo Design by Charity Hendry

  Editing by Tracy Roelle

  Formatting by Charity Hendry

  Proofreading by Sheena Taylor

  Legacy of Succession/ Anna Edwards -- 1st ed.

  ISBN-13 978-1980484455

  “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that

  this too, was a gift.”

  ~ Mary Oliver, American Poet.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First and always to my great friend, Charity Hendry, for always being there for me. For entertaining my crazy ideas and helping me bring them to fruition. Love you to bits.

  To my editor, Tracy Roelle, and proofreader, Sheena Taylor, you polish my books so that they shine brightly.

  I’m lucky to have such a good team.

  To my street team, thank you so much for all you that you do to get my books out in the reader world.

  To Yvonne, for not only beta reading and offering me advice but for organizing so much when it comes to conventions. I’d be lost without you.

  To my family, thank you for all the support that you

  give me.

  To Debbie Pothin for naming my Duke in a competition

  in my Facebook group. Thank you. It’s given me so

  many ideas.

  Finally, to all the readers who have embraced me as an author. I’m so glad that you enjoy the stories my mind creates. I hope I’m able to give you many more years of pleasure.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  TAINTED REASONING

  THE CONTROL SERIES

  PREVIEW OF SURRENDERED CONTROL

  GLACIAL BLOOD SERIES

  PREVIEW OF THE TOUCH OF SNOW

  ABOUT ANNA EDWARDS

  CONNECT WITH ANNA EDWARDS

  MEET ANNA EDWARDS

  CHAPTER ONE

  VICTORIA

  I swear I must have read the same page in this high society gossip magazine at least five times. You know the sort: who’s marrying who, which couples are divorcing, and who’s running around Chelsea in nothing but their bra and knickers. It’s boring! But then again, it’s more interesting than the life I have. The highlight of my day would be if the cook changed the strictly ordered meal plan that I’ve eaten every week, without fail, since I turned sixteen. Five years of the same food is enough to send anyone crazy. But I shouldn’t complain. My father, Arthur Cortland Hamilton, Viscount Mayfield, is a wealthy man, and I lead a life of privilege. I’ve never wanted for anything: clothes, makeup, books, they’ve all been produced within hours of asking. My days are often spent lounging around by the indoor pool after swimming a hundred lengths, as I am now, but I want something more. I didn't go to regular school like normal people — I was educated at home by a governess. My brother, Theodore, Theo for short, went to a local private school. He would always come home with tales of the friends he’d made and the games that he’d played. My games would consist of reciting my times tables, so I didn’t fall asleep from the monotony of the day. I once asked my mother why I wasn’t allowed to go to school, and all she would say was ‘to protect your reputation’. I have no doubt my gravestone will read, ‘Here lies, the honorable Victoria Hamilton. She died from boredom, but at least, her reputation was intact.’

  I give up on the magazine and place it down on the ornately carved sixteenth-century table. I take off the towel, which I’d wrapped around me after my swim. I’m dressed in only a small black bikini. It’s the one I always try to choose because of the inlaid embroidery of a rose on it. It’s my favorite flower.

  “Miss Hamilton?” I turn my head toward the middle-aged butler when he addresses me. He bows.

  “Yes.”

  “Miss Bennett is on the telephone for you.” He hands me the phone, and I wave him away before squealing into the receiver.

  “Tammy, how are you?”

  She's excited about something. I can tell from the hyperventilating breaths coming from the other end of the phone.

  “I did it. I’ve taken my last exam, and it feels so good. I’m sure I passed it. I answered nearly every question.”

  “I’m so happy for you. That’s amazing news.”

  Tamara Bennett is my only friend. She’s the same age as me. We grew up together. She made life tolerable in this mansion of no fun. Her mother, Elsie, is lady’s maid to my mother and me. She doesn’t know who her father is. Her mother tells her it isn’t important. We used to make up stories that he was a hero off fighting for his country, and one day, he would come back for her and Elsie. He never did though, and the truth, about him being a father who abandoned a pregnant woman, seems a lot less exciting. Still, I’m glad she came to live with me because it means I can live vicariously through her. She’s been at Oxford University for the last three years, studying law. I’ve missed her so much.

  “All I need to do is pack up all my stuff and I’ll be coming back to London.”

  “When?” I try to temper down my excitement a little bit, but her giggle tells me she knows I’m practically climbing the walls without her here.

  “I’ve got a few end-of-term parties first, so a couple of weeks.”

  “A couple of weeks,” I say sadly.

  “I know. It’ll go quickly. You’ll see.”

  “I wonder if Daddy would let me come up to see you at the parties? Theo could accompany me. That way, I wouldn’t get into any of the trouble he thinks would befall me if I happened to leave the house.”

  “Victoria.” Her answer is ominous. Not because she doesn’t want me to come, but she knows my father would
say ‘no’ immediately.

  “I just wish for once he would trust me.”

  “He does trust you.”

  “He doesn’t,” I interrupt. “He thinks that if I see a man, who isn’t a relative, all my morals will go down the drain, and I’ll hump him like a wild dog.”

  “He’s doesn’t think that!”

  “Then, why didn’t he allow me to go to University to study the History of Art? I obtained a place at Oxford. You don’t get higher than that. I also had a place at Goldsmiths, which is just down the road, so I’d still be able to live at home. Every time I asked, the answer was ‘no’. If he’d trusted me, he’d have let me go.”

  “He just doesn’t want to see any harm come to you. Some parties can get a little bit rowdy.” Tammy’s voice went quiet on the other end of the phone.

  “You’ve been to them?” I ask.

  “A few times.”

  “What happens, tell me?” My living by proxy is all done through my friend, and I’m not going to let her keep details from me.

  “Ria.” My nickname since we were toddlers. She struggled to say Victoria when she was younger, so it was just shortened to Ria, and it stuck.

  “Please,” I beg.

  “Ok, there was this one party when I was in my second year. It was after the end of the final year exams. Some of my mates brought in some kegs of beer. They were paid for by one of the final years, he was a billionaire’s son. He had more money than sense. We spent most of the day drinking and ordering in pizza when we got hungry. By the evening, we were all pretty merry.”

  “Drunk?” I interrupt, not knowing what that feels like. I’m allowed a glass of wine with my dinner and champagne at the functions Daddy throws. I’ve never been drunk.

  “I was on my way to drunk. I wasn’t drunk. My inhibitions were lowered. There was this guy. We’d been working together on our final project for the term.”

  “Did you have sex with him?” I know Tammy isn’t a virgin. She lost her cherry, when she was at school, to a guy she’d been dating for a year. She came home and told me all the details.

  “Eventually. But first, we played Twister with another couple. Every time someone fell over, they had to remove an item of clothing. You know how clumsy I am. I was naked with my backside in the air in no time. One of the moves put him behind me. He got hard, so we stopped playing and fucked right there on the lounge floor. Most of the party were watching us, but we weren’t the only ones naked. Lots of couples were having sex around us.”

  “Wow.” It’s all I can say. I mean I’ve read books about sex and looked at videos on the internet, when I’ve wanted to get myself off, but to be involved in a real-life orgy sounds amazing. Jesus, Tammy had such a good life. “What happened next?”

  “Yeah. Next wasn’t good.” She goes quiet. “I found him having sex with some other girl later that evening.”

  “The bastard.”

  “It was an evening of free love. I went and found another partner.”

  “I wish I could do it for once.”

  “No, you don’t. Your saving yourself for your husband.”

  “What husband!” I exclaim indignantly. “Don’t I actually have to be allowed to leave the house to find one?”

  “Have you spoken to your father again about getting a job?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “You told me about the volunteering position at the art gallery. Maybe since you won’t be getting paid, he’ll let you?” she asks, hopefully.

  “Oh that, I left the information on his desk. I went in the next day and found it in the bin. He wouldn’t even entertain it, money or not.” I stand up and walk around the pool to the French doors that open over our manicured gardens. We’re on the outskirts of London so have a large plot compared to some, and I welcome it because it means I can escape and walk. I open them and take a breath of air.

  “I’m sure he’ll allow something soon. Maybe when I move back, we can persuade him to allow you to come out with me more.”

  “It won’t happen, there’s no point in asking. I’m stuck in this place. Probably until he chooses a husband for me, and then, I’ll be stuck doing what another man wants me to do.” I’m so down with my life at the moment, I just want to have a purpose.

  “We'll think of something,” Tammy offers. She knows how sad I get. “What about asking him if you can help him with his business affairs again? He was more than happy for you to help him arrange the functions when your mother was ill. Maybe you could take some of the running of the estates away from her. Talk to her.”

  “That’s a good idea. She’s been busy with Theodore and his new business venture recently, and she still looks weak after the flu.” Her mother had caught flu the previous winter and had been bedridden for weeks. She had problems with her lungs anyway, from an iron deficiency at birth. It really hit her hard. She spent time in the hospital and took months to recover. “I’ll ask him when I next see him. Mother can concentrate on Theo, and I’ll run the estates. At least I’ll get to talk to people. “

  “Great idea.” I can hear voices, in the background, on the other end of the phone. They’re calling my friend. “I’m going to have to go, Ria.”

  “Going on another drinking fest?” I laugh, but she goes silent. “Have fun and be careful.”

  “I’ll be home soon, and we’ll work on you being allowed out more. I promise. Go talk to your father about the estate.”

  She hangs up, and I go back to staring out of the window. Our gardens are formal in style. A rose border dominates the vista from the pool. It's June, and the beautiful pink and red petals of the climber’s contrast stunningly with the crisp white of the fragrant tea roses. The gardener appears from behind a hedge, and he sees me standing there. I go to ask him to cut a rose for me, but he puts his head down and hurries away back into the depths of the woodland area. Oops, I remember that I’m in a bikini. Awkward.

  “Victoria,” my father calls me. I stroll back to the lounger and pick up my dressing gown. I've just finished wrapping it around me and tying the cord when he enters the room.

  “Father.” I smile.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  “You know I always swim at this time,” I offer with a hint of sarcasm, alluding to the fact that I don’t have anything else to do.

  “We don’t have much time.” He seems flustered.

  “Time for what?” I come over to his side and place my arm through the crook of his. For all my father’s overprotective faults, I do love him. I remember once, as a child, him building Theo and me this tent in his office and having afternoon tea with us in it. Theo, of course, being a lively boy wanted to use the shelter as a place to hide from the enemies who were chasing him. He didn’t really want to have a girly tea party, but my father insisted that it was my turn to choose the game, we sat with our pinkies out and pretended to drink tea.

  “You have to get changed. We’re going out.”

  “Out? Where?” I enquire with a great deal of excitement in my voice.

  “It’s time,” he says and brushes me off, striding away through the house. I follow him as he heads toward my bedroom. Elsie’s waiting in the room for us when we walk in. She looks sad. There’s a definite air of tension in the room. Elsie steps aside and on the bed is a pure white linen dress. It's plain in design except for a small crest on the breast. I don’t recognize it. Are those oak leaves? I try to think to whom it might belong but come up blank.

  “Father, will you please tell me what’s going on? I’m worried.” I take his hand and squeeze it. He looks down at the floor.

  “It's time for you to enter society. Put the dress on. No make-up. No undergarments. Just the dress. Elsie knows how your hair should be. We leave within the hour.” I stand there in shock. Society? The door slams before I even realize he's left. I get to go and meet people. This is it — I finally get the freedom I crave. Alright, it’ll be in probably the most unflattering dress I’ve ever seen, but at
least it’s going out. I squeal inwardly with barely contained excitement. My wish is going to come true.

  CHAPTER TWO

  NICHOLAS

  The Ferrari 448GTB, in the obligatory red color, skids to a halt, and I’m out of the vehicle before the footman even has a chance to react. I throw him the keys and stomp into the house. I need coffee, preferably intravenously. I’ve got a herd of fucking elephants in my head along with a severe case of flashbacks to what was the best twenty-ninth birthday party, ever. Another one hits me when I shut my eyes and slump down into my favorite comfortable chair in the ostentatious room that my father calls the waiting room. It’s a blonde this time and a brunette. The blonde is riding my dick like a cowgirl while my friend, Prince John, is doing her up the ass. I’ve got the brunette on my face, and she’s bathing me in her cum. I love a woman’s orgasm — it’s the sweetest flavor in the world, especially when she’s soaking your chin. My dick gets hard again at the thought.

  “Down boy,” I tell him. “Any more action for you, and you're going to end up with burns. We're taking the day off.” I’m sure he’s sulking in my pants.

  “Lord Lullington.” I reluctantly open my bloodshot eyes to see my elderly butler standing over me with the ever-present stern expression on his face.

  “This had better be good, Reggie, and it better come with coffee.”

  “It comes with a bacon sandwich, My Lord.” He steps back to reveal the glorious delicacy placed on fine china and resting on my father’s sixteenth century, carved oak chest.

  “You're sent from heaven.” I jump up and sink my teeth into the first juicy bite. “Hmm. Ketchup. This is the best.”

  “You'll need the strength it gives you.” I finish the sandwich in a few bites and pick up the cup of steaming coffee. I know it’ll be the King’s blend, from Fortnum & Mason, because that’s the only one I'll drink since I discovered it at fourteen. I’m not a tea person, unlike the rest of my family.