How could he not love the woman he had taught her to be?
Oliver Fleming, the young Earl of Pentargon, was so unorthodox a guardian that by the time Anne was sixteen she was an incomparable horsewoman, an enthusiastic botanist--and a hopeless hoyden. She was also, as she discovered with shock, in love with her guardian. And her new woman's heart told her that his passion answered her own...
Why then had he sent her off to London to become a lady--she who wanted only to be his wife? Could he really prefer that prim, that proper. . . that passionless Eliza Gilbart?
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