Annabelle's Courtship (7 page)

“Not yet.” He spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because lessons are best learned through experience.” She would have asked what he meant, but his mouth covered hers. His lips caressed hers softly over and over again.

The few fumbling kisses she had received in the past paled in comparison to this gentle onslaught to her senses.

Annabelle felt bewildered by the sensations shooting through her. She had never felt this desire to get closer to a gentleman. She wanted to press her body against his and curl her arms around his neck. The thought was so shocking that it broke the numbing effect his kiss had on her limbs. She pushed against him and pulled her mouth from his.

He would not let her go. She could not catch her breath. “You shouldn’t have done that.” She tried to sound firm, but knew she failed miserably.

“Nay, I should have done it sooner.” His first kiss had been gentle and probing, this one was full of passion. His lips demanded a response from her, but she did not know what. All thought of resistance had faded and she sought to experience more of the wonderful sensations brought on by his caress.

Putting his arms around her, he pulled her across his thighs, settling her on his lap.

He must have removed his gloves because she could feel the warmth of his fingers against the nape of her neck. She shivered with longing.

The fragrance of the garden mixed with his masculine scent, sending her further into the maelstrom of passion. His tongue roved over her lower lip. He wanted something, but she couldn’t tell what. Her mind felt fractured like light splintering off the crystal of a chandelier.

“Open your mouth for me,” he whispered against her lips.

It seemed natural to obey. He tenderly swept her mouth with his tongue. It felt so incredibly wonderful. It must be sinful. She linked her hands behind his neck and closed her eyes, melting against him.

Laughter broke through the passionate haze surrounding them. He groaned and pulled back slightly. “Belle, we must stop.” She did not react to his words, but remained melted against him with her face nuzzled against his shoulder. She could not get enough air and her mind was fuzzy. Gently disentangling her arms from him, he set her back on the bench. She slowly opened her eyes.

His were dark with desire. She thrilled at the knowledge his desire was for her. He smiled. The moonlight illuminated his expression. Satisfaction shimmered in his gaze.

“Now you look kissed, Belle.”

Chapter Five

William considered the practicality of ridding himself of the Scotsman’s presence…permanently. If he had the funds, he could hire it done, but he was unsure of soiling his own hands in that way. Perhaps it would be unnecessary.

He could not believe that even the uncouth man continued to pursue the unremarkable Lady Annabelle without knowing of her secret fortune. However, pursue her he did. The laird had waited for the chit to return from fixing her hem, just as William had done, forcing William to do so in the shadows.

And then, when she had not shown, the Scotsman had found her first. William had only spied her returning from a walk in the garden with the other man.

Looking quite flushed. If he did not know better, he would believe the couple had been engaging in a passionate tryst. But he could not believe that of a proper English lady, even a dowd like Annabelle.

Annabelle shivered and yawned as she made her way to Aunt Griselda’s room. She had slept very little the night before, restless with thoughts of Ian’s kisses. Those of a lover, he had said. Whatever the term, they had left her breathless and wanting more.

She fervently wished that Diana and Robert were already in Town. Her brother and his wife had promised to arrive sometime this week. She prayed it would be soon. She desperately needed to talk to someone about her relationship with Ian. Aunt Griselda would not do. She would likely faint if Annabelle admitted kissing Ian in Lady Markham’s garden. Either that or insist on posting the banns. Neither reaction appealed.

Ian stirred her passion, but passion was not love. He did not believe in love.

Annabelle was almost convinced that she was having her first encounter with the emotion. What a muddle!

Stopping at her aunt’s door, she peeked in.

“Don’t stand there peeping around the door like some child caught sneaking treats from the tea tray. Come in and tell me what had you woolgathering on the journey home last evening.”

Annabelle moved into the room. Lady Beauford sat up in bed, the heavy damask draperies pulled aside. A tray with chocolate and the remnants of breakfast reposed beside her on the ice blue coverlet. Beneath her attractive lace cap, the dowager’s face was wan.

“Aunt Griselda, are you feeling quite the thing? You look a bit peaked.” Taking an imperious inventory of Annabelle’s appearance, Lady Beauford harrumphed. “This from a gel who doesn’t know any better than to dress like a governess when she’s expecting gentleman callers?”

Annabelle quelled under her aunt’s scrutiny. Her choice of dress had made sense in her chilly room. Knowing that it was unlikely to be warmer anywhere else in the house because the dowager had a tiny idiosyncrasy about saving money on coal, Annabelle had opted to don a fawn-colored wool dress. Its only claim to fashion the suitably high waist and long sleeves puffed at the top. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. This particular argument with her aunt was long standing.

“It is uncommonly cold this morning. Had you noticed?”

“It must be. You are wearing a perfect fright of a dress. You look like someone’s housekeeper.”

First a governess and now a housekeeper. It could only get worse. It would not do to give in too easily, though. “Never say so. This is a perfectly reasonable dress especially for a day like today with no fires lit.”

The argument had at least brought the color back to Lady Beauford’s cheeks. “In my day, gels were not so worried about comfort as looking their best when callers arrived.” Going forward to adjust the shawl around her aunt’s shoulders, Annabelle said,

“Undoubtedly it would be better were I made of sterner stuff.” Lady Beauford allowed the ministrations. “Humph. I’ll order a fire lit in the drawing room and you can change your dress to one of your new lawn gowns.” Annabelle smiled at the concession. “Aunt Griselda, that is very kind of you, but I like this dress. I’m sure we won’t have any callers as it is not typically our at-home day.”

“You do not expect me to take you calling in that?” Lady Beauford looked properly horrified.

“Of course not, Aunt Griselda. I had thought to take care of some correspondence today. Now, you can see that my dress is hardly significant.” Lady Beauford sighed and rested against the pillows. “Very well. Dress as you like, but if the laird comes calling today, do not pretend I did not warn you.” Poor Aunt Griselda. “I’ll change my dress after breakfast. All right?” Annabelle asked.

The other woman nodded. “Now, be off with you.” As Annabelle approached the breakfast room, she heard Ian’s deep burr and the deferential tones of the butler in the hall. Annoyed that her aunt had indeed been right and that she would be caught dressed like a governess, Annabelle moved forward to greet him.

She could have waited and Cresswell would undoubtedly have told Ian that they were not yet receiving. The irresistible pull of Ian’s presence overcame her frustration at being caught dressed so practically, however.

He stood with his back to her, still wearing his many caped great coat. A large basket of red roses dangled from his hand.

“Good morning, my lord.”

His head came around at the sound of her voice. Her knees went weak at the potent masculinity in his smile. “Good morning, Belle. Although it’s near enough to afternoon.”

“I suppose that is your excuse for calling so early?” His brows raised in question. “You are not yet ready to receive callers?” She wanted to throttle him. Of course she wasn’t ready yet. She hadn’t even had her breakfast. Her aunt was still abed and it must be obvious she was not dressed to receive visitors. She decided to fall back on the excuse of her aunt. She had to stifle a sigh of disappointment, however, at the thought of sending Ian on his way.

“My aunt is still indisposed so I cannot receive callers.” He inclined his head in understanding. “I had hoped to be granted your company for a trip to the museum today.”

“I adore the museum,” she replied.

In truth, it was one of her favorite places. She could wander for hours room to room getting lost in the paintings, sculpture and even the Kings Library. Embarrassingly, her stomach chose that moment to make its empty state known.

“You havena eaten yet this morning?” Ian frowned at her. “You have no call to be standing in this drafty hall conversing with me.” She bristled at his tone. One minute he was kissing her like a…a lover and the next he was scolding her as if she were a child. “I’m sure my eating habits are my own concern.”

He did not react to the frosty tone of her voice. “They should be someone else’s as well if you are no going to take proper care of yourself.” He looked at her like an angry parent.

She could not help laughing at the absurdity of being upbraided for not eating her breakfast. “My lord, I have not been chastised for like misbehavior since my old nurse was retired to a country cottage.” She smiled at his set features. “You don’t look a bit like her, but you do sound like her.”

His face registered disbelief. “I canna believe that Lady Beauford would not take it into her head to scold you on occasion as well.” He had read her aunt very well. Aunt Griselda did like to scold. “True, but she reserves her reprimands for my clothing.”

“What is the matter with the way you dress?”

Laughter bubbled up yet again at the sincere confusion in his voice. “My lord, you may like the fact that I dress like a dowd, thus making me more suitable in your eyes, but I can assure you that it does quite the opposite for my aunt.”

“Belle, there is nothing the matter with your choice of attire.” Her insides warmed at the approval she heard in his voice. “Really, my lord, you must stop addressing me as Belle.”

He shook his head as if her complaint were a pesky fly trying to land on him. “Dinna try to change the subject.”

“Fine.” She lifted the unfashionable wool skirt of her gown slightly. “Take for instance my dress today. Aunt Griselda would have heart palpitations if she realized that you had caught me wearing this.”

He stared at her as if he could not believe what he was hearing. “What is the matter with that dress? It looks warm enough for the day. Your aunt’s house is no warm, I have noticed.”

Annabelle smiled at Ian’s understatement. When the fog moved in, her aunt’s townhouse became downright chilly. “My aunt can sometimes be parsimonious. She prefers to save money rather than have fires lit in all the grates.”

“Your aunt would do well with my housekeeper. The woman is cheeseparing, no doubt about it.”

Annabelle warmed under their shared smile.

The front door knocker sounded. “Are you expecting other callers this morning, Belle?”

The suspicion she heard in Ian’s voice was laughable. Of course she wasn’t expecting callers. Hadn’t she made that clear enough? There was a flurry of activity at the door. She found herself enveloped in masculine arms and quickly released.

“Annabelle, I have missed you.”

She looked into her brother’s eyes and hers became misty. They had always been close. She impulsively leaned forward and gave him another hug. “Nothing like I have missed you, Robert.”

She looked around him for Diana and came face to face with a fire-breathing Ian.

“Belle, I dinna know this gentleman. Won’t you introduce me to your caller?” The question came out as a command.

She took her brother’s arm and beamed up at him before acknowledging Ian’s demand. “Robert, this is the Earl of Graenfrae, Mister Ian MacKay. My lord, my brother, Robert Courtney, Earl of Hamilton.”

It was her brother’s turn to stiffen. “Lord Graenfrae.” His words came out in the pompous tone he sometimes used, a tone Annabelle had come to despise. She could not deny that where she had shared in her parent’s cavalier attitude toward society’s rules, her brother kowtowed to them. Sickeningly so.

Ian’s shoulders relaxed and his hand that had been fisted at his side unclenched. He inclined his head to her brother, more arrogant than even Robert in his acknowledgement.

“Lord Hamilton, it is a pleasure.”

A delicately cleared throat and Annabelle knew her brother was in deep trouble. He had been so busy matching Ian arrogant look for arrogant look that he had neglected to introduce his wife. Spinning away from Robert, Annabelle threw her arms around her beautiful sister-in-law.

“Diana, I was about to ask Robert where he had hidden you.”

Momentarily ignoring her husband and the laird, Diana returned Annabelle’s embrace. “Darling Annabelle, how I’ve missed you. Your letters have been all that has kept me sane these months with just your brother for company.” Leaning closer to Annabelle, she whispered, “So who is this gorgeous man and do tell me the roses are for you?”

Annabelle laughed at her incorrigible friend. “Surely you heard me introduce him to Robert.”

Diana gave her a disgusted frown. “Of course, how could I miss it and my husband’s subsequent posturing? But
who is he
?” Robert interrupted. “Annabelle, if you are finished greeting Lady Hamilton, perhaps you will allow me to introduce her to his lordship.”

“Of course, Robert. By all means. I wouldn’t want
Lady Hamilton
to think you had forgotten her,” Annabelle mocked.

Diana winked at Annabelle before turning a perfectly composed face to her husband.

When the introductions were finished, Ian offered the roses to Annabelle. “I’ll return another time for our excursion. No doubt you want to visit with your family and eat something.”

Diana and Robert turned startled eyes to her at Ian’s injunction that she eat.

“Ian is under the delusion that I still need a nursemaid.” She took the basket of flowers from him and couldn’t resist leaning forward to inhale their fragrance. “They are lovely. Thank you, my lord.”