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Cathy Maxwell spends hours in front of her computer pondering the question, “Why do people fall in love?” It remains for her the great mystery of life and the secret to happiness.

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A Timeless Classic
“Whenever I’m asked which of my characters is my favorite, the answer always is Phadra Abbott. I love her scarves, her toe rings, and her desire to live life to its fullest.”
—Cathy Maxwell

As stubborn as she is beautiful, Phadra Abbott will not be deterred when she sets her mind on something. The headstrong heiress has decided to track down her spendthrift explorer father—and nothing is going to stand in her way . . . not even her handsome but oh so stuffy guardian, Grant Morgan.
Though strong and level-headed, Grant has watched his well-ordered life go disastrously awry since he first tried to arrange the irrepressible Miss Abbott’s future. And now he has no choice but to accompany Phadra on her latest misadventure—for it’s not only his sworn duty that compels him, but a raging, newly born desire to hold his maddening, enchanting adversary in his arms . . . and love her for all time.

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Treasured Vows

Avon Books

Chapter One

May 1810

Bankers and body snatchers, Phadra Abbott decidedgrimly, they were one and the same.

Standing in the office's window alcove, she turnedher head and looked at Sir Cecil Evans, a member ofthe Bank of England's Court of Directors, letting allof her anger flow from her eyes.

Sir Cecil reacted as if her glance scalded him. Hisfingers fumbled and dropped the letter opener he'dbeen playing with onto his desk. He'd been nervouslytoying with the dratted thing for the past ten minuteswhile they waited. His bushy brows came together ina frown, and he huddled down deeper over his deskas if he could shut out her presence. "It wasn't all myfault," he muttered. "Your father had a hand in thematter."

Phadra snorted but said nothing, not trusting herselfto speak. Ignoring her companion Henny's lookof concern, she gave them all her back and staredwith unseeing eyes out the window.

Two hours. That was all the time that had elapsedsince Sir Cecil had delivered the news of her financialruin and her carefully constructed world had comecrashing down around her. She took a deep breath,steadying herself. She wouldn't give up. Not yet.

When the banker had finished his confession, he'dadded that he held hopes that there was a way out of"this tangled web your father and I wove for you" -- as if he wouldn't also go to debtor's prison with her.

He probably wouldn't. He had money, whereasshe was bankrupt and would be held responsible forher father's debts as well as her own.

Dear God, she had no desire to see the inside of aprison.

A sharp knock broke the silence of the room."Come in," Sir Cecil said, his voice squeaking on thefirst word. He cleared his throat and repeated hiscommand in a firmer tone.

He's more nervous than I am, Phadra thought, andrealized that she'd been holding out some hope, someprayer, that this was all an elaborate hoax and she'dreturn home to find her life intact. I must be strong.I must be brave. She repeated the litany to herself andthen turned to face the one man Sir Cecil felt couldcontrive a way out of these dire circumstances. He'deven gone so far as to describe Grant Morgan as thesharpest mind in England.

She wondered what Morgan was doing involvedwith Sir Cecil if he was so intelligent, but wisely heldher tongue.

The door opened and a respectful young secretaryannounced, "Mr. Morgan, sir."

"Good!" The word exploded out of Sir Cecil as herose and walked around the desk to greet his visitor, who was without question one of the most handsomemen Phadra had ever laid eyes on. "Morgan, thankyou for coming."

Grant Morgan had a profile -- and a body -- likethose Michelangelo had loved to sculpt. He met SirCecil halfway into the room and took his hand. "I'msorry I couldn't answer your summons sooner, sir. Ihad to finish some accounts on the Scottish questionfor Deveril."

His low, deep voice was pleasing to Phadra's ear. Agood voice for an actor.

But it wasn't just the looks or the voice that capturedher attention so completely. The man had presence.Why would anyone so young -- he must havebeen in his early thirties -- and so devilishly goodlookinglock himself up in a stuffy bank?

Ignoring Henny's whispered "Oh, my" of admiration,Phadra closed her own gaping mouth and lether artist's eye for detail take over. Physically attractivehe might be, but he had banker's eyes, steel-grayand direct, as if they could see right through a person.Nor did she admire the short, conservative styleof his thick, dark hair or the fact that his welltailoreddark blue coat and buff trousers allowed nopersonal flair. He wore his clothes almost as if theywere a uniform.

Sir Cecil turned to her. "Let me introduce you toMiss Phadra Abbott. She is the daughter of Sir JuliusAbbott."

"The explorer?" Mr. Morgan asked.

Phadra was impressed. "You've heard of my father?"

"I read his book. Of course, that was several yearsago."

"At least twelve. It was published the last time hewas in England ... that I know of." She struggled tokeep the bitterness out of her voice.

"Sir Julius has an account with the bank," SirCecil said.

"He does?" The news apparently surprised theyounger man.

Sir Cecil looked away, as if embarrassed. "It is oneI handle personally."

Mr. Morgan's silvery eyes narrowed as if he sensedthe unspoken in Sir Cecil's statement. He looked atPhadra and then back to his colleague. "I see."

He did see, Phadra realized, and that only madeher angrier. If he knew Sir Cecil for the bumbling, incompetentfool she now knew him to be, why hadn'the done something sooner? Before she'd been ruined?

As if wanting to cover the moment of realization,Sir Cecil hurried to introduce Henny, who sat in achair to his right. "And this is Mrs. HenriettaShaunessy, Miss Abbott's companion."

The banker dutifully took her offered hand andbowed over it while Henny cooed in her throatyvoice, "Please call me Henny."

Phadra shot her a cross look. There were timeswhen Henny's heyday as an opera dancer was a littletoo apparent, but this was the first time it hadembarrassed Phadra. Henny smiled back, unrepentant,and tucked a dyed red curl back under herbonnet.

Her flirtation seemed to have no impact on Mr.Morgan. He released her hand with a tight, pleasantsmile and turned his attention to his colleague ...

Excerpted from Treasured Vowsby Maxwell, Cathy Excerpted by permission.
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