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?