A lady turned governess…
A life-changing proposal!
When Lady Alexandra Mannerly last saw Malcolm Gordston, he was a poor crofter’s son—someone a sheltered duke’s daughter would never be allowed to marry. But scandal has rocked her arrogant family, and Alex now leads a quiet life as a governess in Paris—where she meets Malcolm again! Now he’s a wealthy, powerful department store owner…and determined to make her his bride!
Debutantes in Paris miniseries
Book 1— Secrets of a Wallflower Book 2— The Governess’s Convenient Marriage Book 3—coming soon
“McCabe strikes the perfect note of sweet adventure and pure romance in her newest trilogy…a delightful read.”
— RT Book Reviews on Secrets of a Wallflower
“The author did not disappoint as she allowed me to travel back in time to a city I would love to visit… I enjoyed every minute of the book.”
— Goodreads on Secrets of a Wallflower
AMANDA McCABE wrote her first romance at the age of sixteen—a vast epic, starring all her friends as the characters, written secretly during algebra class. She’s never since used algebra, but her books have been nominated for many awards, including the RITA®, Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Booksellers’ Best, the National Readers’ Choice Award and the Holt Medallion. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband, one dog and one cat.
Also by Amanda McCabe
Betrayed by His Kiss
The Demure Miss Manning
The Queen’s Christmas Summons
Bancrofts of Barton Park miniseries
The Runaway Countess
Running from Scandal
Running into Temptation
The Wallflower’s Mistletoe Wedding
Debutantes in Paris miniseries
Secrets of a Wallflower
The Governess’s Convenient Marriage
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
The Governess’s Convenient Marriage
Amanda McCabe
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-07431-5
THE GOVERNESS’S CONVENIENT MARRIAGE
© 2018 Amanda McCabe
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk
Version: 2020-03-02
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Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
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
Author Note
Extract
About the Publisher
Prologue
Scotland—1882
Lady Alexandra Mannerly hurried down the back stairs of her father’s hunting lodge, trying to tiptoe so no one would see she had escaped her governess. Even in Scotland, where life was much more free than London or at her father’s ducal seat in Kent, she was supposed to have lessons in the mornings. But she did not want lessons. She was nearly thirteen now. Surely she deserved to be free? At least for a little while?
And besides—she knew exactly where she wanted to go now. Who she wanted to see.
She could hear the clatter of the kitchens, the cook shouting for more salmon to make mousse for dinner, the maids dropping pans, her brother, Charles, begging for cakes. Her father was out shooting for the day, as he always did in Scotland, and her mother was locked in her chamber with a tisane for her headache, as she always did in Scotland. Alex knew her governess would like a free hour to flirt with the butler, so Alex was free for a little while.
She slipped out through the back door unseen and ran through the kitchen garden to the gate. The brisk, cool wind, smelling of the green hills, caught at her loose, slippery pale curls and the skirts of her blue-muslin dress, biting through her jacket, but she didn’t care. She could run now, run and run with no one to stop her!
The weeks they spent in Scotland every early autumn were her favourite of all the year. In England, she always felt so shy, so nervous of everything, so sure she was not being a proper duke’s daughter. That was what her mother lectured her about all the time—what a duke’s daughter should do.
In Scotland, no one was looking at her. She was just Alex, especially when she escaped to run outside and make her own friends. One friend in particular.
She pushed the gate closed behind her and ran through the thicket of woods. She could hear the wind whistling through the branches, rustling the drying leaves. From far off, she could hear the bang of the guns, but she knew they wouldn’t come near. Her father wouldn’t be home for hours, when there would be dinner, bagpipes and dancing, which she and Charles would spy on from above-stairs.
Beyond the woods wound the river, rushing fast over the rocks, a silvery tumble that made its own music, flowing down icy-cold from the heather-purple hills above.
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