92. From Hate to Love, Barbara Cartland
Barbara Cartland

92. From Hate to Love

Horribly wounded after robbers murdered her dear father and left her for dead, the lovely young Atayla is alone and destitute in Morocco at the Tangiers Mission.
So when her only friend, Father Ignatius, tells her of a French lady, the Comtesse de Soisson, who wishes to pay someone to escort her young daughter home to her estranged father, the Earl of Rothwell, she jumps at the opportunity.
After a long and tiring journey, she arrives unannounced at Roth Castle with young Felicity and Atayla is dismayed by the violent unwelcoming reception she receives from the dashing but disdainful Earl, who assumes that she has some shady ulterior motive in coming to The Castle.
Atayla is at the mercy of a man who hates her and soon it seems she is to be banished from The Castle and from the young girl she has come to care for.
But then the Earl's passions are inflamed in a terrible misunderstanding and his hate is suddenly transformed to an all-consuming love.
178 printed pages
Original publication


Atina Matthews
Atina Matthewsshared an impression3 years ago

Greatly enjoyed with tears!

Elizabeth Amerna
Elizabeth Amernashared an impression3 months ago
👍Worth reading

b9893953620shared an impression5 months ago
👍Worth reading


Mary Augustowicz
Mary Augustowiczhas quoted3 months ago
Then she heard Jeannie’s voice saying,

“Sorry to disturb you, miss!”

She opened her eyes to see Jeannie standing
lovely smart
lovely smart has quoted8 months ago
finished a book about the Berbers just before he died.”

“He is dead?”

“He was murdered by robbers,” Atayla replied. “We were on our way home to Tangiers, a very small caravan with just a few servants. The robbers swooped down from the hills and everybody was – killed except me.”

“How did you survive?”

“They left me for dead, but I was carried by some kind people to Tangiers and nursed in the Mission.”

“It is the most fascinating story I have ever heard!” Sir Christopher said.

Atayla looked towards the top of the table to where the Earl sat looking, she thought, almost as if he himself was Royal.

Without asking herself why, she said to Sir Christopher,

“Please don’t say anything to anybody here – will you promise me? – as to who I am and where I come from.”

“Are you telling me that our host does not know that your fa
fatimahj07has quotedlast year
if there were aspects of it that seemed bestial and evil, they were not so significant as what was good and fine in the peoples who had roamed over the desert for century upon century.

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