Anne Mather - The Virgin's Seduction

Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous collection of fantastic novels by bestselling, much loved author

ANNE MATHER

Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the

publishing industry, having written over one hundred

and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than

forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages.

This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance

for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful,

passionate writing has given.

We are sure you will love them all!

I’ve always wanted to write—which is not to say I’ve always wanted to be a professional writer. On the contrary, for years I only wrote for my own pleasure and it wasn’t until my husband suggested sending one of my stories to a publisher that we put several publishers’ names into a hat and pulled one out. The rest, as they say, is history. And now, one hundred and sixty-two books later, I’m literally—excuse the pun—staggered by what’s happened.

I had written all through my infant and junior years and on into my teens, the stories changing from children’s adventures to torrid gypsy passions. My mother used to gather these manuscripts up from time to time, when my bedroom became too untidy, and dispose of them! In those days, I used not to finish any of the stories and Caroline , my first published novel, was the first I’d ever completed. I was newly married then and my daughter was just a baby, and it was quite a job juggling my household chores and scribbling away in exercise books every chance I got. Not very professional, as you can imagine, but that’s the way it was.

These days, I have a bit more time to devote to my work, but that first love of writing has never changed. I can’t imagine not having a current book on the typewriter—yes, it’s my husband who transcribes everything on to the computer. He’s my partner in both life and work and I depend on his good sense more than I care to admit.

We have two grown-up children, a son and a daughter, and two almost grown-up grandchildren, Abi and Ben. My e-mail address is mystic-am@msn.comand I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

The Virgin’s Seduction

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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About the Author Mills & Boon is proud to present a fabulous collection of fantastic novels by bestselling, much loved author ANNE MATHER Anne has a stellar record of achievement within the publishing industry, having written over one hundred and sixty books, with worldwide sales of more than forty-eight MILLION copies in multiple languages. This amazing collection of classic stories offers a chance for readers to recapture the pleasure Anne’s powerful, passionate writing has given. We are sure you will love them all!

Title Page The Virgin’s Seduction

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

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ELLIE came to find her as Eve was shovelling manure out of Storm’s stall. The work should have been done that morning, but Mick hadn’t turned in today and Eve had offered to help out.

Nevertheless, Eve felt a little self-conscious when the old lady raised her handkerchief to her nose before saying, ‘Come outside. I want to talk to you.’

Eve didn’t argue. You didn’t argue with her grandmother, and the old lady’s cane tap-tapped its way back along the aisle between the row of empty stalls. Meanwhile, Eve jammed the fork she was using into her wheelbarrow and, after checking to see that she had no dirt on her hands, followed Ellie out into the crisp evening air.

It was November, and the scent of woodsmoke banished the smell of the stables. Already there was a tracing of frost on the trees in the copse, and the lights that surrounded the stable yard had a sparkling brilliance.

‘Cassie’s coming tomorrow.’

The old lady waited only long enough for Eve to emerge from the doorway before making her blunt announcement, and her granddaughter’s stomach tightened. But she knew better than to show any obvious reaction, and with a shrug of her thin shoulders she said, ‘Don’t you mean Cassandra?’

‘No, I mean Cassie,’ retorted the old lady shortly, wrapping the woollen pashmina she was wearing over her tweed jacket tighter about her ample form. ‘I christened my daughter Cassie, not Cassandra. If she wants to call herself by that damn fool name, I don’t have to follow suit.’

Eve acknowledged this with a wry arching of her dark brows, but she thought it was significant that Ellie was wearing the wrap Cassie had given her several years ago. Was this a sign that she’d forgiven her daughter at last? That the rapidly approaching demands of old age had reminded her that her time was slipping away?

‘How long is she coming for?’ asked Eve casually, aware that, whatever Ellie said, this was not going to be an easy time for any of them. She and Cassandra could never be friends, and it might be easier all round if she simply moved into a hotel for a couple of weeks.

‘She didn’t say.’ Ellie’s tone was grumpy. ‘As usual, I’m supposed to accommodate myself to her needs. Oh, and by the way, she’s bringing some man with her. I don’t know who he is, but knowing Cassie he’s probably someone who can help her with her career.’

‘Oh, well…’ Eve tried to sound philosophical. ‘If she’s bringing a boyfriend I doubt if she’ll be staying long. He must have commitments; a business, maybe.’ She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. ‘What do you want me to do?’

Ellie’s eyes, which were extraordinarily like her granddaughter’s, narrowed in surprise. ‘Why should I want you to do anything?’ She gave a shiver as the wind, which had a decidedly northerly bite to it, whistled across the stable yard. ‘I just thought I ought to—to—’

‘Warn me?’

‘To tell you,’ she insisted tersely. ‘If I could put her off, I would.’

‘No, you wouldn’t.’ Eve’s tone was dry. She wasn’t taken in by her grandmother’s last remark. ‘You’re really delighted she’s coming to see you, even if she is using this place as her own private hotel. As usual.’

‘Eve—’

‘Look, I understand where you’re coming from, Ellie. I do. So—would you like me to find somewhere else to stay while she’s here? I’m sure Harry—’

‘We’ll leave the Reverend Murray’s name out of this.’ The old lady looked scandalised at her suggestion. ‘You can’t stay with him. It wouldn’t be seemly. In any case, this is your home. I don’t want you to move out.’

‘Okay.’

Eve was dismissive, but the old lady wasn’t finished. ‘This is Northumberland,’ she said, with a quaver to her voice. ‘Not north London. You’re not living in some smelly squat now.’

That was a low blow, but it was a sign that her grandmother wasn’t as blasé about Cassie’s visit as she pretended. Ellie seldom if ever mentioned where Eve had been living when Ellie had arrived to rescue her, and she could see from the old lady’s expression that she already regretted speaking so bluntly. But Ellie must remember that the last time Cassie was here she and Eve had barely said a word to one another.

As if needing some reassurance, she added, ‘Are you saying you don’t want to be here while Cassie’s staying?’ All the ambivalence she was feeling about the visit showed in her lined, anxious face. ‘Because if you are—’

‘I just thought it might be easier all round if I left you to it,’ Eve muttered unwillingly. She didn’t want to hurt the woman who was her closest relative and her friend.

‘Well, it isn’t,’ declared her grandmother, pushing the hand that wasn’t holding her cane into her pocket for warmth. ‘So we’ll say no more about Henry Murray. And it’s too cold to stand here gossiping, anyway. We’ll talk about this again later. Over supper, perhaps.’

But they wouldn’t, Eve knew. Her grandmother had spoken, and in her own way she was just as selfish as Cassie. Oh, she would never have abandoned her child at birth, or ignored its existence for the first fifteen years of its life. But she liked her own way, and Eve rarely felt strongly enough about anything to argue with her.

‘You’ll be in soon, won’t you?’ Ellie asked now, and Eve nodded.

‘As soon as I’ve got Storm back in his stall,’ she promised.

‘Good.’

Her grandmother looked as if she would have liked to say something more, but thought better of it. With a farewell lift of her cane, she trudged away towards the lights of the house.

The hired Aston Martin ate up the miles between London and the north of England. Jake liked motorway driving, mostly because the journey—this journey—would be over that much quicker. He hadn’t wanted to come, and the sooner this trip was over the better he’d like it.

‘Shall we stop and have some lunch?’

Cassandra was being determinedly cheerful, but for once he didn’t respond to her lively chatter. This was wrong, he thought. He shouldn’t be here. Bringing him to meet her mother smacked of a relationship they simply didn’t have.