Annabelle's Courtship (27 page)

“Aye, I am marrying your sister.”

Hamilton smiled. “Now that is settled, on to other matters. Until we locate Renton and deal with him, Annabelle will not be safe.”

“Or until she is married, eh what?”

Ian fixed his gaze on his friend. “What are you suggesting, Finchley?”

“From what I learned while you were gone, Renton is in deep dun territory. Might even be forced to go to court and then prison. The man’s got to be desperate, don’t you know? He can’t afford to give up now that he has discovered Annabelle’s secret. No other heiress in Town would have him.”

Ian’s insides, already tight, constricted further. “Belle willna either.”

“Could be he won’t give her a choice. If Creswell hadn’t sent you a note, he might have succeeded with his attempt to carry her to the border.” Ian would not wager on the possibility. His Belle was both strong and clever. She would not easily have submitted to the blackguard. “What about you, Hamilton? You have not been idle these past days, I ken.”

“I have been unable to locate Thorn. I had Annabelle show me where she followed him, but inquiries in the area have turned up nothing.” Disgust filled Hamilton’s words.

“I did not think such a cowardly fool could hide so well.” Ian agreed. “Mayhap he does not live in that area at all. Renton may have instructed Thorn to meet him there to lessen his chances of being followed. The way he ducked through the alley to Renton’s waiting carriage is no coincidence.”

“What should we do next?” Hamilton glared at Ian. “I will not allow my wife to live under this cloud of impending doom. She is in a delicate condition and must be protected.”

Ian did not smile at Hamilton’s passionate declaration. He could not. He felt much the same about Belle. He had to protect her, whatever the cost. “The first thing I am going to do is procure a special license.”

Hamilton and Finchley nodded. “It is the only way.” Ceddy agreed with Hamilton.

“Marriage is just the ticket, eh what.”

* * *

Annabelle hesitated outside of Ceddy’s family’s townhouse. It was an imposing structure in the best part of Town. Ceddy’s family was as old as her own and his father was not only a good manager of his estates, but had developed the reputation for knowing how to play the Exchange.

Standing in front of the huge oak front door, she wondered at the wisdom of her actions. It had all made sense in her bedchamber. She was tired of waiting for Ian to come to his senses and call on her.

After telling an astonished butler that she was there to see Laird MacKay, she waited in the hall for him to receive her. She reminded herself that she was not going to beg.

She wanted to know what her future held. She had a right to know if Ian planned to break their engagement. She knew that in the eyes of the
ton
he had sufficient cause. Not only had he caught her in a compromising situation with the greedy squire, but he had also been forced to follow her the next day and rescue her from the squire’s clutches. She sighed. She painted a bleak picture with her thoughts.

Even bleaker was the knowledge that none of this would cause Ian to give up. He believed she had deceived him. She had. He just did not know why. If she told him, maybe he would understand. Maybe he would get over his anger.

Waiting for the butler, she was surprised when Ian himself came storming into the hall. He searched her face and looked behind her, as if seeking someone else.

Her heart constricted in her breast. He wore only a shirt and trousers. He had discarded his cravat, waistcoat and jacket. The muscles of his chest rippled behind the fine lawn of his shirt. Annabelle had an almost overpowering urge to reach out and caress the dark hair peeking out from where the top two buttons were undone. She seemed to have no control over her body’s reaction to this man.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

As greetings went, his lacked finesse. She drew herself up to her full height.
I am a
modern woman.
I am not afraid of this man.
I have a right to know what my future holds.

After giving herself this bracing lecture, she met Ian’s eyes with as serene an expression as she could manage.

“I am returning your coat.” She held out the garment in question.

He could have no idea how difficult she found it to give it up. The coat had become a talisman of sorts over the past three days. She had slept with it each night and spent long hours in her room holding it while considering her future.

Ian stared at her as if her brains had gone to let. “You have risked your reputation to return my coat? Dinna jest with me this way. You could have sent it with a servant.” She shrugged. “Nevertheless, I have returned it.” Ian seized his coat from her extended hand. “You have completed your errand. Now you will retrieve your maid and return to your aunt’s townhouse immediately.”

“No.”

“Aye. I am in no mood for games, Belle.” He turned as if to leave, dismissing her.

Furious that he intended to walk away from her again, Annabelle swept by him and headed toward Ceddy’s library. It was closer than the drawing room and she had no intention of engaging in conversation with Ian in the hall. The curious butler had heard enough.

“I did not bring my maid and I am not going anywhere until we settle things between us.” She spoke over her shoulder while walking away from her arrogant fiancé.

His gasp of outrage could have parted her hair. She sensed rather than saw him turn around and move toward her. “You did not bring a maid? Is it not bad enough, you have come calling at a gentleman’s household? Must you compound it by leaving your maid behind? Your reputation is already hanging by a thread. Would you destroy it entirely?” Annabelle entered the library, pleased that Ceddy was nowhere to be seen. Her friend was not a bookish gentleman, so it had been a safe assumption. However, with the way things had gone lately, she felt justified in her sigh of relief. Not yet ready to face Ian or his outrage over her conduct, she busied herself removing her gloves and pelisse. She laid them on a nearby table along with her reticule. Sending up a brief plea for help, she faced Ian.

“You exaggerate. My reputation is safe for the moment.”

If Ian decided to end their betrothal, that would be another story. So far no one knew of her unplanned journey with the squire and Ian was the only one aware of what had transpired the night of the musicale.

“Aye, for the moment. With the foolish way you go on, you are set on a course of destruction.”

She was fast losing her temper. “I have survived these four and twenty years without destroying my respectability. I am in no imminent danger of doing so.” Provided the engagement stood.

He laughed, the harsh sound holding no humor. “’Tis a bloody miracle that. You hare off wherever your mood strikes you without benefit of a maid or an escort. I have been called upon to rescue you on more occasions than I care to count.”

“Do not be ridiculous. It has been a mere handful of times that you have been called upon to give me aid.” She would not say rescue. That would imply that she could not have eventually gotten herself out of trouble.

He did not answer her. She grew nervous in his silence. She twisted her betrothal ring. Would he ask for it back? The wait to know her future was becoming unbearable.

“No one forced you to help me, Ian. You needn’t act so angry about doing so.” If anything, his expression grew fiercer. “Ye are my bloody betrothed. I wouldna leave ye to your fate, no matter that you brought it on yourself.” Her patience came to an end. Storming across the room to him she stopped less than a foot from where he stood. Pointing her finger at his chest she shouted at him.

“I am not responsible for that stupid squire lusting after my money. Nor am I to be held accountable for some ruffians starting a riot. I will admit that getting out of the hansom cab when I was following Mr. Thorn was not the most intelligent thing I could have done, but I will not take the blame for the sordid actions of others. I have been accosted by miscreants bent on hurting me, by a lascivious squire, been kidnapped and threatened with a pistol.”

She gulped in air before going on. “Did I tell you that he threatened to shoot me to gain my cooperation? He wasn’t going to kill me, just shoot me. He would have too. I could see it in his eyes. But that isn’t the worst of it. Not by a long shot. When I needed you most, you walked away from me and you stayed away.”

Tears began to flow and they made her even angrier. He would think she was weak, that she did not mean what she said. “I know you don’t love me. But I thought you cared, at least a little bit.” She could not go on.

This was foolish. What good was she doing herself or Ian? She would have turned to leave, but Ian closed his hands around her finger and pulled her gently toward him. When their bodies were touching, he let go of her finger and put one arm around her, his hand resting on the small of her back. With the other he pressed a handkerchief into her hand.

“I sent flowers.”

She had read the card a hundred times and could not make it any less cold with all the reading. He had simply signed it, “Regards, Ian.” She had wanted to burn it, but could not make herself do so. It had been in his own hand.

She sniffled into the handkerchief. “You left without saying good-bye and you have not been back.”

He sighed. “I was angry.”

“You hurt me.”

He tipped her chin up so that she had to look into his eyes. “You lied to me.”

“I would have told you.”

His eyes burned into hers with an intensity she could not deny. “Why?” She swallowed. She knew what he was asking. Why had she not already told him? “I was afraid.”

His face reflected confusion. “Of what?”

She wanted to move away. To look anywhere, but at him. He would not let go of her chin. “You only want to marry me because I fit your list of requirements.” He did not say anything to that pronouncement.

“I thought that if you discovered that I did not fit the one about a woman of moderate means, you would decide to look elsewhere for a bride.” He tipped his head back and laughed.

She glared at him. “My fear is not amusing.”

He let her go and continued to laugh. He laughed so hard that he bent over with the merriment. She wanted to kick him. How dare he respond to her baring her soul in this way? She whirled around, intent on leaving. His laughter stopped immediately and he was at the door of the library before she was. He leaned against it.

What a contrary man. Not a half an hour before, he had been demanding she leave.

Now, he appeared set on her staying.

“I want to go home.”

“Nay.”

She glowered at him. “You hurt me and now you are laughing about it. I am leaving.”

His expression turned serious. “I did not laugh because I hurt you, lass.” She didn’t believe him. She shook her head.

He moved away from the door. She would have walked around him, but he grabbed her arm. Taking his time, he pulled her close. “I laughed at your belief that I would have given you up because of your inheritance.”

She stopped breathing for a moment. “You won’t?” She could not look away from his intent gaze. She wanted him to kiss her so badly that she was weak with it.

“Nay.” He leaned his head toward hers. “I will never give you up.” Then he kissed her. It was such a gentle kiss that she almost started weeping again.

He pulled away from her. “I had four requirements on my list, if you will remember, Belle.”

She nodded, miserable. She knew that. He had been adamant that the woman he married fit them all.

He began to list them, ticking them off on his fingers as he went. “I wanted to marry a plain woman, older than a debutant, with moderate means and of a practical nature.”

“Yes, I know, Ian. You listed them for me in your first proposal at Almack’s.” He smiled and she felt her insides melt. “Belle, you meet none of my other requirements either.”

She stared at him for long moments, unable to speak. Finally, she asked, “What do you mean? I meet all of your requirements except the one about moderate means.

Although, to be fair, you did only stipulate that the dowry had to be of moderate means and mine is. Of moderate means, I mean.” She was babbling, but the look of tender amusement in Ian’s eyes unsettled her.

“You are not plain.”

She laughed then. He had to be jesting. He had said once before that he thought she was beautiful. She did not believe him. “The entire polite world knows that I am plain.

You, yourself, said as much when you proposed.” He frowned. “Aye. I did utter that complete falsehood. I canna help it if the gentlemen of the
ton
are blind to your loveliness, but I have never known a lady more beautiful.”

The sincerity in his expression told her that he did indeed find her beautiful. Her heart swelled with hope. “Thank you, Ian. That is one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me.”

He frowned. “I wasna being kind.”

Her eyes misty, she smiled at the disgruntled sound to his voice. “You cannot pretend that I am not the age you required.”

“’Twas not merely an age requirement, if you will remember, Belle. ’Twas my belief that age would make you biddable and accepting of my proposal. No one can accuse you of being biddable and accepting, lass.”

She laughed again, joy flowing through her. “No. I suppose not. And the others?”

“You are no practical woman, Belle. ’Tis no merely romantical notions that fill your head, but you see the best in everyone and often act without thought.” She should take umbrage, but she did not. She felt too much relief to know that Ian did not care if she filled his requirements. He must feel
something
for her to abandon them.

“You are wrong.”

He gave a long and drawn out sigh. “’Tis nothing new, you believing I am wrong.” She moved closer to him and placed her arms around his waist. His hands came to rest on her shoulders. Hugging him tightly, she did not speak for several minutes. She smiled against his shirtfront. “There is nothing more practical than my love for you.”