Annabelle's Courtship Read Free Page A

monologue stopped abruptly. “I say. Do you know this gentleman?” Annabelle forced herself back to the present. Ian stood in front of her, a sardonic smile on his face. “Yes, indeed, Mr. Green. Lord Graenfrae and I have been introduced.
    Do you know him?”
    “We have not had the pleasure.” Ian’s voice filled her being and Annabelle wanted nothing more than to find a secluded spot and continue their latest debate on Greek antiquities.
    Mr. Green looked pained. Ian had that effect on people. He could be quite overwhelming. Annabelle smiled at Mr. Green reassuringly and introduced the two gentlemen.
    Mr. Green stood and bowed toward Ian. “Pleasure.” Ian inclined his head. “Same.”
    Annabelle offered her hand to Ian and he bowed over it. “’Tis a pleasure to see you again, Lady Annabelle.”
    Without releasing her hand, he turned to Mr. Green. “I believe the music for this set has ended.” Under Ian’s gimlet stare, Mr. Green hastily made his excuses to depart. Ian turned back to Annabelle as she vainly attempted to remove her hand from his powerful grip.
    “My lord, if you will permit me.” The breathless sound of her voice shocked her.

    He looked down at their joined hands and let hers go. “Sorry, lass.” Annabelle opened her fan and brushed it gently before her face. “You seem a bit preoccupied.”
    He nodded absently. “Finchley was right. You are perfect. ’Tis an advantage so early in my hunt, don’t you see?”
    No, she didn’t see. Her cheeks heated. She fanned herself more vigorously. His hunt for a wife? Feeling lightheaded, she watched the whirl of dancers forming the next set.
    Ladies in high-waisted silk gowns danced with gentlemen in breeches and black coats.
    The lights reflected garishly off the jewels adorning the beau monde.
    Annabelle’s attention shifted back to Ian. Eyes the color of chocolate sauce bore into hers and she could not form a thought in her head. She had an inexplicable urge to touch the silky blackness of Ian’s hair. Grateful that he could not read her mind, she dropped her eyes to his waistcoat. Something about this man filled her with desires that had not plagued her before.
    “May I have the pleasure?” Ian’s voice intruded on her thoughts.
    She nodded her assent before she realized that the orchestra had begun a waltz.
    Dancing with Ian never failed to set her pulse racing. Waltzing with his hard, muscled body so close to her own devastated her senses.
    She had to swallow a sigh of pleasure as he pulled her into his arms. She tilted her head to maintain eye contact.
    He asked, “This isn’t your first season then?” Disappointment coursed through her. Annabelle had grown addicted to the stimulating conversation she usually shared with Ian. Discussing banalities like this were a far cry from it. “No. It’s my fifth, but it should be my sixth.”
    “Why is that, lass?” The thick Scottish burr of his voice caressed her.
    “My parents died of the flu the year I planned to attend my first season.” His eyes filled with understanding and he nodded. “I’m sorry.” He whirled her around the room, his dancing as pleasing as the rest of him. “I suppose your first season would have been when you were seventeen?”
    Understanding dawned. “If you are fishing to find out my age, I will gladly tell you. I am four and twenty.” Well past her first blush of youth as her aunt would gladly have told him.
    “’Tis just as I thought.”

    “Surely you could have asked Ceddy my age. We’ve known each other since we were in leading strings.”
    “Aye. I wanted to hear your answer, though.” He winked at her and she winked back, surprised by her own audacity.
    “Did you think I might lie about my age?”
    “Nay.”
    She almost asked him to explain, but there was something else she wanted to know more. “It’s your turn to answer a question from me.” Her knees went weak at his smile and she felt gratitude that his arms held her so firmly as