Annabelle's Courtship - Page 42

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.”

“Belle.” Her name came out like a moan.

He tipped her head up and his lips covered hers in an intense kiss. The passion that was always there between them sprang to the surface. She opened her mouth and demanded his tongue by offering her own. Within seconds, she was so hot, she would have lay down on the floor of Ceddy’s library and opened her body to Ian.

He broke off the kiss.

She protested. He picked her up and placed her in a chair then moved away to stand near a wall full of bookcases. “We have much to discuss.” She would much rather be kissing him, but he appeared intent on his course. She let him have his way. She composed herself, placing her hands demurely together in her lap.

“Very well.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Dinna agree so readily, Belle. ’Tis frightening. It makes me wonder what you are planning.”

She winked at him. “A woman prefers to keep some mystery.” She could not believe the freedom she felt telling Ian of her love for him. She was still reeling from his reappraisal of her attributes as well.

He did not respond to her teasing. “I am sorry I hurt you. I went to the country to search for Renton, but he did not go to his estate in Kent.” The final band around her heart broke free. He had not been avoiding her. Ian had never meant to break their engagement. He had been trying to find the man who threatened her. She smiled radiantly at him.

“’Tis no good news I’m giving you.”

She begged to differ. “What is our plan now?”

“We will be married by special license in three days time.” It was a sound plan. Renton would not attempt to abduct her again once she and her fortune were married to Ian. “All right.”

He looked stunned. “You agree?”

She shrugged. “It is the most logical plan of action.” She looked at him in wonder.

“Did you expect me to disagree?”

“How can you blame me, B

elle? You have fought the idea of marrying me with a great deal of energy.”

She did not understand. “I already agreed to marry you.”

“Aye.” He shook his head as if to clear it.

Tags: Lucy Monroe Romance
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