Lost Ladies of the Windswept Moor
He was like the moor itself -- unpredictable, moody...and dangerous.

“Cheviot Chase? Tis a place to stay away from, miss.”

Even though she was only nineteen, and a woman, Janet Clarissa Clarke was determined to prove herself a capable restorer of Lord Rathbone's priceless collection of paintings. She desperately needed employment and the fact that she signed her letter of application with initials instead of her full name was only a slight deception. The position at Cheviot Chase was her last chance, and she approached it with high hopes.

But Janet's life darkened the moment she set foot inside the ponderous, dimly lit stone mansion, for the halls of Cheviot Chase were dark and empty, the servants sullen and bitter.

What was it about Cheviot Chase that doomed its occupants to tragedy? Already strongly attracted to her handsome employer, Janet refused to admit that Lord Rathbone might have played a part in the sinister events that were only whispered about -- even when she learned that his first wife had hurled herself into the sea and his second, a madwoman, had burned down the East Wing. And where was Lady Rathbone now?

Janet soon realized that she was no longer a mere observer of the frightening drams taking place at Cheviot Chase. She was at its center. And her very life was in mortal danger. LOST LADIES OF THE WINDSWEPT MOOR
