The Reluctant Governess

The Reluctant Governess
Anne Mather

Mills & Boon are excited to present The Anne Mather Collection – the complete works by this classic author made available to download for the very first time! These books span six decades of a phenomenal writing career, and every story is available to read unedited and untouched from their original release. Problem child… problem father!Victoria Munroe has fled to the Austrian Alps to escape a disastrous love affair – only to find herself in a far more challenging situation. As governess to troubled Sophie, Victoria certainly has her work cut out for her. Especially when Victoria’s brooding employer, Sophie’s father, Baron Horst von Reichstein, proves even more of a problem than his daughter!Victoria is determined not to let Sophie or the Baron get the better of her – but she risks losing her cool in the face of her powerful attraction to the embittered Baron. And as she gets more and more entangled with the Baron and his secrets, it may just be too late to walk away…

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.com (mailto:mystic-am@msn.com) and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.

The Reluctant Governess

Anne Mather

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

Table of Contents

Cover (#udedb09b0-2910-5893-9942-14cd1fea8d43)

About the Author (#u28fde8e8-23f8-575c-8d57-0255223f1002)

Title Page (#u48fb20af-4b1f-5f24-9ab5-2b4a7ba9321f)

CHAPTER ONE (#ue9ae8f9e-7c1d-56b8-8e23-29ac928da953)

CHAPTER TWO (#u33094a95-ac8b-5e6a-9802-0cafd53d0fa4)

CHAPTER THREE (#u5a084dae-dd6f-52df-b90b-f86ebefaa72b)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_2084c0b1-6a66-5efb-8650-9b3eb18ffb98)

IT was late in the afternoon as the train left Hoffenstein and the thickly falling snow obliterated vision so that there was little beyond the misted windows of the small carriage to warrant any enthusiasm. The track wound continuously upwards, the lines of the pass sometimes disappearing beneath the white carpet of flakes until the heat of the iron wheels burnt their way through. And yet the steady rhythm of the wheels was soothing, and the softly falling flakes provided an adequate shield against what was beyond this journey. High above, the glaciers thrust their relentless peaks to the sky, looking down with what seemed icy disdain on the intruding pitiful vulnerability of the railway.

Victoria flicked through the pages of the glossy magazine on her lap and then, with determination, rubbed away the mist on the glass and peered out with concentrated effort, but there was little to be seen. She sighed, and thrust the magazine to one side, exchanging a smile with a rather harassed-looking elderly woman who had joined the train at Hoffenstein and who appeared to have been shopping from the enormous basket she supported on her lap. But as Victoria did not speak fluent German and the woman was obviously an Austrian she did not like to attempt any conversation even though she would have been glad of the chance to ask how much further Reichstein was.

Trying to quell the nervous tension that had gripped her since she left London the day before, Victoria tried to relax. But it was impossible to relax when every time she closed her eyes her mind ran wildly in all directions trying to find acceptable reasons for what she was doing. But acceptable to whom? she asked herself. Herself or Meredith? But why should she consider Meredith when he had shown so little consideration for her? And yet his image persisted in intruding, causing that nervous fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip. Had her actions been premature? Maybe if her godmother had not obtained this position for her they would have been able to work something out. Other people did.

Then she chided herself. Aunt Laurie had been only thinking of saving her unhappiness when she had made these arrangements, and the resentment Victoria was now harbouring was ungrateful, to say the least. It was no use, Meredith was married, and he had concealed that fact from her. She would not continue to go about with him in the face of this new knowledge. He must have known that when he concealed his marriage from her.

She sighed. He was bound to look for her when he discovered she had left London. Even now, he was probably using his power and influence to find where she had gone. And when he did find her he would come looking for her because he thought she was unable to resist him. That thought calmed her. She was not that involved. Their relationship had been enjoyable while it lasted, exciting at times, and he had indulged her extravagantly, but she had never been his plaything, and for that now she was thankful. Maybe that was why he had found her so absorbing. Until meeting her he had found little difficulty in devastating his conquests.

Victoria transferred her attention to the window again. Surely they must be nearing Reichstein. Of course, the train was running late with this terrible weather, but even so …

With a characteristic shrug, she gathered her belongings together and thrust the magazines she had bought for the journey into her bag. She might as well be prepared for arrival when it did come. Then she stood up and pulled on her sheepskin coat over the dark blue slack suit she was wearing. A glance into the compartment mirror assured her that her sleek chestnut hair was in order and although her lips were devoid of make-up she didn’t consider it necessary to appear glamorous when her occupation was to be that of governess to the daughter of the house. Her looks were something she had always taken for granted, for although she was not beautiful in the accepted sense of the word, good health and good bone structure accentuated the slightly upward tilt of her eyes and the generous contours of her mouth.

She seated herself again, and drew on her gloves. It would be strange to be working again, she thought. Since her parents had died when she was in her early childhood and she had been brought up by Aunt Laurie there had been no necessity for her to acquire a regular job. Her parents had not been well off; her father had been a schoolteacher and her mother’s parents had disowned her when they discovered her choice of husband. But Aunt Laurie had gone to school with her mother and despite Victoria’s mother’s split with her own family had remained her dearest and closest friend. Of course, Aunt Laurie had done all the right things. Her husband, now dead too, had inherited a title, and Victoria’s status as the adopted niece of Lady Pentower had been a very comfortable one. Of course, she had missed her own parents badly at first, but after a while Aunt Laurie’s indulgence and attention had dissipated her earlier sense of desolation. She had been a bright child and after acquiring the necessary qualifications had attended university and attained a degree in English which she had wanted to use but which Aunt Laurie had merely scoffed at.

‘Plenty of time for wasting away in schoolrooms,’ she had stated firmly, when Victoria had suggested getting a teaching position. ‘Go out and enjoy yourself, then later, if you really want to teach, you can. You’ve worked hard all through school and now university. Don’t waste all your youth, Victoria!’

So partly to please her godmother and partly because she was young and vivacious Victoria had done as she had suggested and had a good time. Aunt Laurie had an apartment in town as well as a house in the Lake District and she had remained in London all spring and summer so that Victoria could be on hand for every kind of social occasion. In the early autumn they had gone on a cruise to the Greek islands where Victoria had steeped herself in romance and legend and she had come back to London ripe for an affair. Then she had met a young American, Meredith Hammond, and all their problems had begun …

Now Victoria opened her handbag and drew out the envelope containing the letter which had brought her to Austria. She read the letter again, thoughtfully, trying to discover something about its author from the practically illegible print. Its heading was the Schloss von Reichstein, and the signature at the end was Horst von Reichstein. A baron, no less, or so her godmother had informed her, for it was through Lady Pentower’s connections that Victoria had been offered this position. She gave a half-rueful smile, and looked out at her surroundings. She doubted very much whether the Baron von Reichstein found it particularly easy to get staff of any kind, much less a governess, in these days of high wages and shorter hours. And the surroundings, no matter how spectacular, meant little to anyone used to the life and activity of the city.

But at least she had not come here with any illusions about the seclusion. The Schloss von Reichstein was in a remote district of Austria and the most she could hope for in the way of civilisation was the nearby village of Reichstein where the train was due to halt any minute now. She shivered. She was apprehensive and she couldn’t help it. After all, who wouldn’t be? Her godmother’s connections with the von Reichsteins were limited to a childhood friendship with the present baron’s cousin, an elderly baroness of doubtful means, who spent most of her time staying in London and other capital cities, taking advantage of the generosity of her associates. The little she knew was not reassuring. The isolated position of the schloss inhibited communications, and although she was aware that her charge was a girl of some ten years who had recently suffered the rigours of a paralytic disease which had left her incapable of attending her usual boarding school the reports of the child herself were daunting to say the least. She was, apparently, the apple of her father’s eye, incapable of doing wrong, and in the three months since her recovery the Baron had been forced to employ a total of three governesses, which did not augur well for good relations.