Bane Beresford

Bane Beresford
Ann Lethbridge

From wild and rugged Cornwall, the setting of Poldark and Jamaica Inn, comes another fabulous, dramatic story…NO MAN HAS EVER WANTED HER FOR HERSELFWhen she arrives at Beresford Abbey, orphan Mary Wilder’s hopes of finding a place to belong are dashed when she meets Bane Beresford, the enigmatic Earl. He is as remote as the ghosts that supposedly haunt the Abbey…and, like its crumbling walls, her dreams fall apart. Occasionally she sees a different, more caring man behind the façade, so is she foolish to long for a happy home…and a family?His proposal is for a marriage of convenience, but his touch has awakened within her a fervent and forbidden longing…Original Title - Haunted by the Earl's TouchTHE CORNWALL COLLECTIONFour wonderful atmospheric historical romances - perfect for fans of Winston Graham's Ross Poldark and Demelza, and Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca and Jamaica Inn.LUCIEN TREGELLASBANE BERESFORDGABRIEL D'ARCYVALERIAN INGLEMOORE

‘My lord,’ she gasped.

In the light from the sconce his face was all hard angles and smooth planes. There was a loneliness about him. She was sure of it this time. An impossible bleakness as he stared into her eyes. His lids lowered a fraction, and his mouth softened and curved in a most decadent smile when she nervously licked her lips.

A flash of hunger flared in those storm-grey eyes.

An answering desire roared through her veins. Shocked, heart pounding, she stared into his lovely face, waiting, wondering.

Slowly he bent his head, as if daring her to meet him halfway. Unable to resist the challenge, she closed the distance and brushed her mouth against his. His hand came behind her nape and expertly steadied her as he angled his head and took her lips in a ravenous kiss.

On a soft groan he broke away. His chest was rising and falling as rapidly as her own. His gaze was molten.

‘Would it really be so bad to be married to me, Miss Wilding?’ he asked in a low, seductive growl.

About the Author (#ulink_e5793af4-93ab-5c18-a61d-0dc29934f820)

ANN LETHBRIDGE has been reading Regency novels for as long as she can remember. She always imagined herself as Lizzie Bennet, or one of Georgette Heyer’s heroines, and would often recreate the stories in her head with different outcomes or scenes. When she sat down to write her own novel it was no wonder that she returned to her first love: the Regency.

Ann grew up roaming Britain with her military father. Her family lived in many towns and villages across the country, from the Outer Hebrides to Hampshire. She spent memorable family holidays in the West Country and in Dover, where her father was born. She now lives in Canada, with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and a Maltese terrier named Teaser, who spends his days on a chair beside the computer, making sure she doesn’t slack off.

Ann visits Britain every year, to undertake research and also to visit family members who are very understanding about her need to poke around old buildings and visit every antiquity within a hundred miles. If you would like to know more about Ann and her research, or to contact her, visit her website at www.annlethbridge.com (http://www.annlethbridge.com). She loves to hear from readers.

AUTHOR NOTE (#ulink_7535d330-68e4-59bb-a086-8cae70b98e2a)

I have always loved the spooky Gothic novel and mysterious old houses. Clearly the secrets in Bane’s and Mary’s pasts made them the perfect couple to spend time in a house haunted by a ghost and riddled with passages behind its walls. But how, I wondered, did my Earl make his money? Then I made a discovery.

Tin-mining has a long and ancient history in Cornwall, and was at its height of profitability during the Regency. It was quite a thrill to visit a tin-mine, where I was able to go underground and see and hear what those miners of old would have seen and heard. I learned a lot more about tin-mining than would ever fit within my story, and if you are as intrigued as I was you can learn more about it on my blog: http://www.regencyramble.blogspot.com (http://www.regencyramble.blogspot.com) as well as finding out about the other places I have visited.

If you want to know more about forthcoming books visit www.annlethbridge.com (http://www.annlethbridge.com) or write to me at ann@annlethbridge.com (mailto:ann@annlethbridge.com). I love to hear from my readers.

Bane Beresford

Ann Lethbridge

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

This book is dedicated to Keith, Rosalie, Ken, Lin, Bill, Di and Brian, my wonderful family, who help me with my research trips in Britain. Their patience while I explore ruined castles, peer into corners in old houses for hours, and even visit a tin-mine found down a winding narrow road in Cornwall, is truly amazing. They make my research fun.

It is also dedicated to my wonderful editor,

Joanne Grant, who let me try something different

with this book and made sure I stayed on track.

Contents

Cover (#ue4c90884-87f9-5d6d-a180-e935d0021c7c)

Excerpt (#ubc16bc54-08b5-5c08-8179-2a74bcc1a1f6)

About the Author (#uf1af3725-d088-5301-b177-0e20ed83c47b)

AUTHOR NOTE (#ud8672afc-77e8-5897-89ff-fc4860b8a69f)

Title Page (#ud3435147-cf9a-5a07-bf4e-16fd0b5c40d5)

Dedication (#u4c9d3358-3722-52c4-a8a9-479ba5e2975b)

Chapter One (#ufc0e21a1-fb35-59bb-b1b6-a7da9abd7b95)

Chapter Two (#uc7baa3ba-b1a6-56e9-967f-c0a0342a04af)

Chapter Three (#u7b1329e8-4ec9-5c87-a609-c41de7c33109)

Chapter Four (#u6f9f5ca0-ee23-5480-bf40-c239efafe478)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_ebe5dbe5-225b-50ee-b922-fdbaff3588ac)

The wind keened outside the ancient walls of Beresford Abbey. Bane, following on the heels of the ancient butler along the stone passageway, noticed that only one sconce in five had been lit. Blown out by draughts? Or a sign of his welcome? No matter which, the gloom suited his mood.

‘You should have left the dog in the stables,’ the butler muttered over his shoulder.