Gift-Wrapped Governesses. Marguerite Kaye

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       ALL HE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS …

      Gift-Wrapped GOVERNESSES

      Three magical dreams come true from favourite authors Sophia James, Annie Burrows and Marguerite Kaye!

      Praise for the authors of GIFT-WRAPPED GOVERNESSES

       SOPHIA JAMES

      ‘James weaves her spell, captivating readers with wit and

       wisdom, and cleverly combining humour and poignancy with

       a master’s touch in this feel-good love story.’

       —RT Book Reviews on High Seas to High Society

      ‘An excellent tale of love, this book is more than a romance;

       it pulls at the heartstrings and makes you wish the story

       wouldn’t end.’

       —RT Book Reviews on Ashblane’s Lady

       ANNIE BURROWS

      ‘A compelling read from beginning to end. This is a

       beautiful, poignant, sensual story of two lonely

       hearts finding each other at last.’

       —RT Book Reviews on A Countess by Christmas

      ‘Burrows cleverly creates winning situations and attractive

       characters in this amusing romance.’

       —RT Book Reviews on The Earl’s Untouched Bride

       MARGUERITE KAYE

      ‘Kaye delights readers with a heated seduction and fiery

       games that burn up the pages when her heroine takes

       ‘The Captain’s Wicked Wager’.’

       —RT Book Reviews on The Captain’s Wicked Wager

      ‘[A]n innocent Englishwoman swept away by a marvellous

       hero into a life and a passion she has never known’

       —RT Book Reviews on Innocent in the Sheikh’s Harem

      Gift-Wrapped Governesses

       Christmas at Blackhaven Castle

      Sophia James

       Governess to Christmas Bride

      Annie Burrows

       Duchess by Christmas

      Marguerite Kaye

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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       Christmas at Blackhaven Castle

      Sophia James

      About the Author

      SOPHIA JAMES lives in Chelsea Bay on Auckland, New Zealand’s North Shore with her husband, who is an artist, and three children. She spends her mornings teaching adults English at the local migrant school and writes in the afternoons. Sophia has a degree in English and history from Auckland University and believes her love of writing was formed reading Georgette Heyer with her twin sister at her grandmother’s house.

       Chapter One

       ‘Everywhere and at all times, Christmas has been the season of miracle and surprises …’

       Blackhaven Castle, Essex, England

       19 December, 1812

      Lady Seraphina Moreton came to Blackhaven Castle on the edge of the worst storm to hit Essex in living memory. Hailstones as large as golf balls had pelted the carriage roof and the snow at each side of the winding country lane was deep.

      ‘Not an omen, not an omen,’ she whispered to herself, repeating it over and over again as the coach jolted violently and stopped. Before her the castle loomed, walls tall and dark. A single light was held by a figure standing on the large front portico.

      Blackhaven. It suited its name, forbidding and isolated. Seraphina drew in breath. She must not be seen to be criticising. She must place a smile on her face and be unremittingly merry. Was that not what Mrs Jennings at the agency had impressed upon her? ‘No sour faces in this profession, miss. The client is always right and beggars cannot be choosers.’

      Beggars like her! The panic that lay beneath her careful veneer was only just buried. She wanted to run from this place across the frigid ground and away from a world that was increasingly indecipherable to her.

      Instead, she waited until the door was opened, lifted the hem of her velvet cloak and stepped out into the night, the servant with the lamp indicating the care needed on a patch of frozen ice as she followed him into the house.

      Trey Linton Stanford, the sixth Duke of Blackhaven, stood against the windows in his library, turning as the woman entered, accompanied by his man Elliot. He had seen her alight from the coach, her hair the colour of the burnished angel wings that graced the stained-glass panels in the family chapel and bright in the falling dusk. He hoped like hell that

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