ANNE ASHLEY - A Lady Of Rare Quality

She didn’t quite catch the muttered response, but felt sure it was neither polite nor a promise of compliance, as he merely continued striding purposefully toward the house.

Although it had been some little time since she had been carried in a gentleman’s arms, she remembered the occasion quite well. What she couldn’t recall experiencing, however, when she had foolishly gone and twisted her ankle all those years ago, were the peculiar sensations she was feeling now. There had been no odd fluttering in the pit of her stomach or beneath her rib cage during that one previous occurrence, she felt sure. And why there should be that pulsating heat in the area directly below her cheekbones when the rest of her was still experiencing the lingering effects of the atmosphere in the icehouse, she simply couldn’t imagine.

When at last she felt herself being lowered carefully onto her bed, and those strong arms were no longer providing their support, Annis didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

was born and educated in Leicester. She lived for a time in Scotland, but now makes her home in the West Country, with two cats, her two sons and a husband who has a wonderful and very necessary sense of humor. When not pounding away at the keys of her word processor, she likes to relax in her garden, which she has opened to the public on more than one occasion in aid of the village church funds.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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

I t was a full minute before Miss Annis Milbank could recover sufficiently from the shock to exclaim, ‘But, my dear ma’am! What in the world makes you suppose that I am the most appropriate person to aid you? For all that I endeavour to behave as my dear mama would have wished, I remain shockingly outspoken on occasions. In consequence, I’m ill equipped to take upon myself the role of mediator, most especially in such a delicate matter as this.’

Lady Pelham merely smiled that serene smile of hers, as she raised her eyes to study the delightful features framed in a riot of glossy chestnut curls.

Beautifully candid as ever, her goddaughter had spoken no less than the truth. Yet, even though her manners and behaviour were somewhat unorthodox on occasions, and there were those who considered her a little too self-reliant for someone of her tender years, Annis had been blessed with her mother’s serenity, not to mention kindness and understanding, and her father’s determination and sound common sense. These admirable traits, coupled with an abundance of roguish charm, made her the ideal person to adopt the role of envoy.

‘You err, my dear,’ she countered gently. ‘Your not being afraid to speak your mind in this instance might well prove advantageous.’

Annis betrayed her misgivings by lifting one fine brow in a decidedly sceptical arch. ‘Ma’am, if the present Lord Greythorpe resembles his predecessor in character, is it likely he’ll listen to anything I might choose to say?’

‘The truth of the matter is, child, I’ve no notion of what manner of man the current holder of the title might be,’ Lady Pelham confessed as she rose wearily to her feet and went across to the window. ‘Opinions vary. I’ve heard it said that he’s very like his late father in so much as he has a tendency to be cold and unapproachable on occasions; others, so I understand, hold a very different view of him. I myself am endeavouring to keep an open mind.’

Her expression suddenly grave, Lady Pelham swung round to stare at her goddaughter. ‘Please do not imagine I ask this of you lightly,’ she revealed at length. ‘In fact, if I could have turned to any other, a member of my own immediate family, or some close friend here in Bath, I should never have written in such a melodramatic fashion, begging you to visit here without delay. You must have been a little concerned when I offered no explanation in my letter.’

Her lively sense of humour coming to the fore, Annis couldn’t help smiling at this gross understatement. The instant she had received the communication, she hadn’t hesitated to make all haste to Bath. The journey from her Leicestershire home had been achieved swiftly enough, but even so she had been granted ample time to imagine the worst.

On her arrival a short time earlier, she had half-expected to be met with the intelligence that Lady Pelham was gravely ill, or at the very least that some shocking misfortune had befallen Helen, her godmother’s niece. Never in her wildest imaginings had she supposed she had been summoned for the sole purpose of acting as go-between and spokesperson, a role for which she had had no previous experience. Therefore she could only assume the situation must be more dire than she had first supposed.

‘Ma’am, perhaps I have not perfectly understood,’ she felt obliged to admit. ‘You say you received a communication, quite out of the blue, from Helen’s half-brother, inviting you both to spend a few weeks at the family’s country residence in Hampshire, and that Helen herself was not altogether enthusiastic about accepting.’ Annis found it impossible to suppress a wry smile. ‘Well, ma’am, I for one can fully appreciate her feelings on the matter. She appears to me to have gone on well enough without being acknowledged by any member of her late father’s family throughout her life.’

‘Helen feels neither bitter nor resentful towards any member of the Greythorpe family,’ Lady Pelham assured Annis, before subjecting her to a thoughtful stare, as she resumed the seat opposite. ‘Which is something I have strongly suspected that you yourself have experienced increasingly over the years towards your mother’s relatives, my dear.’

Annis’s refusal to be drawn on the irksome topic of her late mother’s close relations ignited a glint of respect in Lady Pelham’s eyes. ‘Do not misunderstand me,’ she went on. ‘I for one felt nothing but admiration for your mama. Unlike my sister and myself, she at least possessed the strength of character to go against her family’s wishes and marry a man of her own choosing. How different Charlotte’s and my life might have been had we possessed the courage to follow a similar path!’

Although she knew a great deal about Lady Pelham and her late sister’s marriages, neither of which had been even a moderately successful alliance, though both blessedly of short duration, Annis felt obliged to have one salient point confirmed at this juncture, and so did not hesitate to ask that all important question.

‘There has never been any doubt in my mind that the Sixth Viscount Greythorpe was indeed Helen’s sire,’ Lady Pelham answered, the conviction in her voice unshakeable. ‘My sister’s behaviour might not have been altogether wise, though understandable in the circumstances. Married to a highly cynical and unapproachable being, many years her senior, was it any wonder she responded to the gentle attentions of the young man commissioned so early in the marriage to paint her portrait? Charlotte freely admitted that she sought the artist’s company frequently during those few weeks he stayed at Greythorpe Manor. But she swore their association never went beyond mild flirtation. It was perhaps unfortunate that Helen was conceived at that time,’ Lady Pelham felt obliged to concede. ‘More unfortunate, still, was that she should have been cursed with the red hair that has not infrequently crowned the heads of certain members of our family down the generations, myself included.’