Impetuous Masquerade. Anne Mather
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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 [email protected] and I’d be happy to hear from any of my wonderful readers.
Impetuous Masquerade
Anne Mather
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘RHIA, I’ve got to see you!’
Her sister’s voice was taut with anxiety, and Rhia sighed resignedly at the prospect of yet another awkward situation Valentina wanted her help to escape from.
‘Not tonight, Val,’ she said firmly, hooking the phone between her ear and one slim shoulder as she endeavoured to go on separating the sheets of carbon from the report she had just finished typing. ‘I’ve got to stay back to take the minutes of the board meeting, and Simon’s picking me up about seven-thirty.’
‘Simon!’ Valentina’s young voice was scathing. ‘You can put him off. You know you can see him any old time!’
Rhia controlled the impulse to make some equally scathing retort, and continued pleasantly: ‘Nevertheless, the arrangement has been made, and I’d prefer it to stand.’
‘But you don’t understand!’ Valentina’s voice rose in her frustration. ‘Rhia, something awful’s happened. And—and I don’t know what I’m going to do!’
Rhia put down the carefully typed sheets and took hold of the receiver. ‘Look here, Val, you’re not a child, you know. You’re eighteen, quite old enough to handle your own problems. Just because I’m older than you are——’
‘But I rely on you, Rhia!’
Valentina’s tone broke on what sounded suspiciously like a sob, and Rhia felt the unwilling sense of responsibility her young sister invariably aroused in her. It was no use railing that it wasn’t fair; that there were only three years between her and Valentina, and that at eighteen she had had to shoulder the responsibilities of a family. Old habits die hard, and ever since their mother had been killed during an uprising in the Central African state where their father had been working, Rhia had taken her place—in Valentina’s eyes, at least. The two girls had been at boarding school at the time, and Valentina had taken the news badly. At fifteen, she had felt the bottom had dropped out of her world, and Rhia had naturally staunched her own grief to comfort her sister.
Their father had flown home to be with his daughters, but it soon became apparent that he was irked by family affairs. When Rhia agreed to abandon her hopes of going to university and found herself an office job while she took secretarial training at night school, Mr Mallory accepted another appointment in South Africa, and left Rhia in charge of the small flat he had rented in Hammersmith.
Valentina, of course, was expected to continue with her schooling, but at sixteen she had begged Rhia to let her come home, and because her father offered no objections, Rhia had had to agree.
That had been the biggest mistake she had ever made, Rhia acknowledged now. Valentina had proved impossible to control, and ignoring pleas from her sister to find regular employment had skipped from one casual job to another. She had worked in cafés and betting shops, in disco joints and wine bars, and spent a good portion of her time hanging about with a group of teenagers, whose main claim to fame seemed to be their outrageous clothes and hair-styles. Rhia had lost count of the number of times she had been called upon to mediate when some irate employer had called demanding to know her sister’s whereabouts, and she had eventually been forced to write to their father and ask him to take Valentina in hand.
The upshot of this had been that Valentina had agreed to try her hand at nursing, and six months ago she had enrolled as a student nurse at one of the local teaching hospitals. She seemed to like it, and Rhia had breathed a sigh of relief, praying that Val would learn to be more responsible. After all, she was eighteen, old enough to be regarded as an adult. She had even found herself a boy-friend, and although Rhia had never met him, she was reassured to learn that he was a student at the London School of Economics. Apparently, his name was Glyn Frazer and he was a Canadian, and although Rhia had her doubts as to how long such a relationship could last, she was glad that