A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,17

had their own carriage along with the horses to pull it. “Things like a house in town so you might enjoy the Season. And of course, a country house to escape London on occasion.”

“That would be nice.” But it wouldn’t. Not to Annabelle. She imagined a cozy cottage, perhaps by a lake where she could spend as long as she wanted writing with no one to disturb her. She’d have enjoyable neighbors with whom she could visit when she had a need for company. Visits to London would be all the more entertaining if she didn’t live there.

“Nice?” Her mother shook her head. “I want far more than that for you, Annabelle. I would like you to have as full a life as possible. With the right husband, of course. Just look at Caroline.”

Why did her life have to center around a man, let alone the right one? Why couldn’t she have her own version of fulfillment? “I’m not certain a husband is necessary for a happy life.” Though she hesitated to bring up the subject now, it was high time she planted the seed that she didn’t intend to marry.

“Don’t be silly.” Her mother tossed away that fragile seed with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand. “Family is everything.”

“I’m blessed to already have a family. I’m also blessed to have a career I love.”

“Your hobby is well and good, my dear. But you need more in your life than that.”

Annabelle bit back the retort that writing was not a hobby. It was her life. Her soul. She lived and breathed it. She spent more hours of the day in the worlds she created than she did in the real one. She drew a breath to gather her patience.

It was no wonder her mother thought marriage should be her goal. Young ladies had few other options.

Annabelle didn’t want to do or say anything to hurt her mother, but she had a different plan now that she’d seen some success with her writing. She had to take this in small steps to warm her to the idea. Never mind the pang of hurt that her mother didn’t understand. Lady Gold had her hands—and her thoughts—full with Father.

“Perhaps this very evening a gentleman will catch your eye.” Her mother smiled more fully. “Your heart will beat faster, and your breath will stop in your throat. Then you’ll know he just might be the one.”

Annabelle closed her eyes as Thomas’s handsome visage filled her mind once again. Unfortunately, the rogue caused all those sensations in her and more. But he wasn’t the one. Couldn’t be the one. In fact, her mother would be appalled if she knew how Thomas made Annabelle feel.

“Perhaps.” They had a business arrangement. Nothing more. That would have to be excitement enough for now. She would ignore the feelings she experienced when he was near. Surely they were temporary. She already knew she had a strong mind, evidenced by the stories she created and her determination to write them down. She’d use that mental strength to move past her feelings.

Practice was all she needed to overcome the flutters she felt when he was near. There was nothing like repetition to wear down the excitement of new things, much like building a habit.

Yes, that was exactly what she needed to do. The more frequently she was with him, the less effect he’d have on her. His vices were many and his virtues few. His roguish behavior was displeasing, to say the least.

By the time the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Granger House on Grosvenor Street, she was pleased with her new intention and the list of Thomas’s worst qualities she’d mentally compiled.

The front of the house glowed with torches to light the way for guests. This was the first significant ball the Earl and Countess of Granger had held since their marriage in January, and Annabelle had no doubt it would be a success.

Flowers graced the foyer where the couple greeted guests. The reception line moved quickly and soon they were exchanging pleasantries with Louisa and Granger.

“You look wonderful,” Annabelle said as she took in Louisa’s gown of white satin trimmed in gold. A pretty bandeau around her head matched the gold jewelry she wore.

“As do you, my dear.” Louisa leaned close. “Do we have Margaret to thank for the beautiful gown you’re wearing?”

“Of course. Isn’t she amazing?” Annabelle smoothed the lilac silk. Small rosettes made from a deeper shade of purple