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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.
The Baby Gambit
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
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
GRACE stepped out onto the balcony of the appartamento and took her first real look at the blue waters of the bay. Breathing deeply, the shiver that shook her frame at that moment was induced more by excitement and anticipation than by the slight coolness of the morning air. She was here, she thought. She was in Italy. And for the next two weeks she had nothing more momentous to think about than what she was going to do to fill her time.
Below the faded grandeur of the old apartment building, the terraced slopes of Portofalco zigzagged their way down to the harbour. Portofalco was not the most well-known or the most exclusive resort on this section of the Ligurian coast, but it was one of the prettiest, and Julia had told her that many of its wealthier visitors came back year after year.
And she should know, conceded Grace sagely, resting her elbows on the balcony rail and feeling the chill of wrought iron against her slim bare arms. As yet, this corner of the Villa Modena was still in shadow, but she guessed that when the sun rose higher this balcony would be a veritable sun-trap, and she’d be grateful for the louvred shutters that bracketed every window.
She wondered what tune Julia would get back from Valle di Falco. Her friend, who lived all year in the small apartment, and who worked in one of the larger hotels along the coast, was away for the weekend, and Grace didn’t expect her back until tomorrow. But she didn’t mind. When she’d accepted Julia’s invitation to come here and stay with her, it had been on the understanding that her friend should not feel she had to entertain her while she was here. Julia had a busy social life, she knew, but Grace hoped not to get involved.
The two women had known one another since their college days, and although they hadn’t seen much of one another since Julia had come to live in Italy two years ago they’d kept in touch. There’d always been a casual familiarity between them that didn’t seem to be affected by the passage of time, which was why Grace had been grateful for the invitation, knowing that with Julia she wouldn’t be expected to do anything.
And all she really wanted to do was rest, she conceded ruefully, even if it had taken a bout of pneumonia to convince her of the fact. Holding down two jobs, and trying to look after her invalid mother into the bargain, had been exhausting, but she hadn’t realised she was neglecting her health until she’d collapsed.
It all seemed so obvious in retrospect, but at the time there didn’t seem to be anything else she could do. She was the only member of her family who was unmarried, therefore it was up to her to look after her mother, and she’d given up her own apartment and moved back into her mother’s house in Brighton.
And that was when life had become really hectic. Travelling up to London every day, trying to maintain her job at the museum, had been hard enough, but going out most evenings, working behind the bar at the local pub to supplement her income, had ultimately proved too much. She’d caught a bad cold, not a serious one, she’d assured herself, but it had rapidly developed into something else.
It had taken a stay in hospital to convince her that she couldn’t go on looking after her mother alone, with only a home help during the day to support her. So with some persuasion by a friendly doctor her two younger sisters had agreed to share the responsibility. But they had husbands and young families, and Grace guessed their assistance would only be temporary, so she intended to make the most of this holiday to build up her strength.
The alternative was to put her mother into a home, and she didn’t want that. Grace loved her mother dearly and it wasn’t her fault that she’d developed a crippling form of osteoarthritis only a couple of years after Grace had got her doctorate and started work at the museum. She’d managed to look after herself to begin with, but gradually, over the years, her condition had deteriorated. Now she could only get about in a wheelchair,