Read Online Silver Bella by Lucy Monroe - Free Book Online

Annabelle, at the age of four and twenty, to be firmly on the shelf, Lady Beauford would not give up hope of seeing her niece wed. Annabelle could have refused to attend the season at all, but that would have curbed her own plans.
    Stifling an unladylike urge to yawn, she tried to pay attention to her current companion’s meandering. A young buck enjoying his first season, Mr. Green still had the spotty complexion of youth. Experience had taught her that dancing with him required vigilance on her part to protect her tender toes. Safer to sit, sipping tepid lemonade and listening to his monologue. Unfortunately, it was not more enjoyable.
    Annabelle’s mind drifted. So did her eyes, back to the entrance. Her heart skipped a beat. Laird MacKay stood in the doorway, surveying the room as if he was looking for someone. She could not tamp down hope that the person he sought was herself.
    His gaze locked on her and their eyes met. His firm lips, lips that she had spent entirely too much time daydreaming about, tipped at the corners. It took all her self-discipline not to return his smile across the crowded room in a most unladylike manner. He began moving toward her. He ignored bids for attention by lovely young debutantes and their fond mammas.
    Unbelievable as it seemed, Ian found her company more fascinating than the loveliest creatures of the ton.
    It was extraordinary, but then so was Ian. He towered above his peers and walked with an air of authority that would have done Wellington proud. Annabelle no longer even made a pretense of listening to Mr. Green. She simply waited for Ian to arrive and stop the boredom threatening to overwhelm her.
    Would he ask her to dance? She experienced the most extraordinary feeling whenever he touched her, as if her corsets were laced too tight. Although she lectured herself severely on being a modern woman of the nineteenth century who did not need a gentleman in her life, he invaded her dreams and the thoughts of her waking hours.
    However, Ian never called on her. He did not send her posies and notes. He did none of the things a gentleman falling in love was supposed to do. She chastised herself for being a ninny and wanting him to. She had given up finding a love like her late parents had enjoyed. Hadn’t she?
    Mr. Green’s 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