Annabelle's Courtship by Lucy Monroe Page A

Did the man not know what a favor William did in giving the tailor his business?
    Money. Money was definitely becoming a problem. He needed to marry Lady Annabelle soon or he would lose his hunters and maybe even his freedom to debtor’s prison. Maybe he should speak to Spinks again. The man was full of information.
    Perhaps there was something else William could use to his benefit. He needed stakes for a night of gaming. One good night at the gaming tables would set him up nicely until he could convince the spinster to marry him.

Chapter Seven
    Annabelle twirled the pencil lead in her hand and stared at the blank foolscap on her escritoire. She had come to her room for some needed peace and quiet. The soft lavender walls and white bed hangings offered refuge from her tumbling thoughts. She smiled at the posy of violets her maid had placed on the white gilded table at which she sat. Purdy liked to remind her mistress that for all her modern ways, she was still a lady.
    She couldn’t focus on writing her treatise on women’s issues. Her mind insisted on dwelling on the previous day’s events. Had she truly cried all over Ian’s shirtfront?
    He had indeed insisted on calling for the doctor. Aunt Griselda had been beside herself and all over a little bruise. Okay, not so little. Her hand had throbbed well into the night, although the doctor had treated it with a topical salve. Surely that was why she had such trouble sleeping. It was merely coincidence that she spent the dark hours tossing and turning as images of furious brown eyes flashed through her mind.
    Ian had been so angry. It made no sense. The day before he had defended her to Robert, but when he rescued her from the riot he had been livid. And then he had held her when she cried. His hands had been so gentle against the back of her spencer. She still tingled when she thought of him rubbing circles on her back.
    She scratched a few lines on the foolscap. Looking down at the paper she couldn’t even remember what she had written. Restless, she stood up and moved to gaze out the window. The brown air of Town put a pall over the beautiful garden behind her aunt’s townhouse. She did not want to go back downstairs and listen to further lectures on her behavior. Lady Beauford had not exhausted her ire and continued to chastise Annabelle with very little provocation. To hear her aunt or Ian, one would think that she had deliberately put her very life at risk.
    Ridiculous. The man who had called her ducks had indeed been angry, but not murderously so. It would be worse tonight. Undoubtedly Aunt Griselda would inform Robert of Annabelle’s mishap when they met at the theater later that evening. Her one

    consolation was that Ian had declined her aunt’s invitation to join them. She would at least avoid his disappointment.
    She did not understand his refusal. For a man who must marry within the year, he was taking quite a cavalier attitude toward courtship. She paced to her wardrobe and looked through the simple gowns inside. A few were actually quite lovely. She had found some vibrant color combinations that she liked. Her aunt had approved. Being on the shelf had its advantages.
    Mr. Green had complimented her attire on more than one occasion. Ian should take some lessons from the young gentleman. Perhaps she would tell him so.

    * * *
    Ceddy joined Annabelle and her family in Lady Beauford’s box. She couldn’t quite summon a smile of welcome for her old friend. His and Ian’s interference had led to a rather ugly bear-jawing by her brother earlier. Aunt Griselda had not waited until they met at the theater to tell him about Annabelle’s mishap.
    “This seat taken?” Ceddy asked with obvious deference.
    She inclined her head. “You may sit there if you wish.” He cleared his throat twice before speaking. “Lady Beauford still angry with you?” She knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if she was still angry with him .
    “A little.”
    His face fell.