Ten Things I Love About You

Which was the last thing she wanted.

―Surely this is not the time, my lord," she hedged.

But Newbury‘s face tightened. And Sebastian was edging ever closer.

―I am making an announcement after supper," Lord Newbury told her.

Annabel gasped. ―You can‘t do that!"

This seemed to amuse him. ―Really?"

―You haven‘t even asked me," she protested. She nearly bit her tongue out of frustration. So much for not giving him the opening.

Newbury chuckled. ―Is that the problem, then? Your pretty little pride has been pricked. Very well, I shall give you your hearts and flowers after supper." He smiled lasciviously, his lower lip jiggling with the exertion. ―And perhaps you shall give something to me in return."

He put his hand on her arm, then let it slide down to her bottom.

―Lord Newbury!"

He pinched her.

Annabel jumped away, but the earl was already chuckling to himself and heading off to the dining room. And as she watched him go, she began to feel the strangest sensation.

Freedom.

Because finally, after avoiding and procrastinating and hoping that something would happen so that she would not have to say yes—or no—to the man whose offer of marriage would solve all her family‘s problems, she realized that she simply could not do it.

Maybe last week, maybe before Sebastian…

No, she thought, as lovely and magnificent as he was, as much as she adored him and hoped he adored her, he wasn‘t the only reason she couldn‘t marry Lord Newbury. He did, however, provide a splendid alternative.

―What the hell just happened?" Sebastian demanded, at her side in an instant.

―Nothing," Annabel replied, and she almost smiled.

―Annabel—"

―No, really. It was nothing. Finally , it was nothing."

―What do you mean?"

She shook her head. Everyone was heading in to supper. ―I‘ll tell you later."

She was having far too much fun with her own thoughts to share them, even with him. Who would have thought that a pinch on the bottom would be what finally made it all come clear? It hadn‘t even been the pinch, actually, but the look in his eyes.

Like he owned her.

In that moment she realized there were at least ten reasons why she could never, ever commit herself to that man in marriage.

Ten, but probably more like a hundred.

Chapter Twenty-two

One, Annabel thought happily as she took her seat at the table, Lord Newbury was simply too old. Not to mention that Two : he was so desperate for an heir that he‘d probably injure her in the attempt, and certainly no woman with a broken hip could carry a baby for nine months. And of course there was—

―Why are you smiling?" Sebastian whispered.

He was standing behind her, supposedly on his way to his own seat, which was diagonal to hers, two seats closer to the head of the table. How anyone might think that her seat was on the way to his was beyond her, which brought her to a revision of Three : she seemed to have attracted the attention of the most charming and lovable man in England, and who was she to turn such a treasure away?

―I‘m just happy to be down at the far end of the table with the rest of the peons," she whispered back. Lady Challis was nothing if not a stickler for propriety, and there would be no deviations from the order of rank when it came to her seating arrangements. Which meant that with nearly forty guests between Annabel and the head of the table, Lord Newbury seemed miles away.

Even more delightful, she had been seated directly next to Sebastian‘s cousin Edward, whose company she had so enjoyed at lunch. As it would be rude to remain lost in her own thoughts, she quickly decided to rename her brothers and sisters Four through Ten . Surely they loved her well enough not to want her to enter into such a hideous union on their behalf.

She turned to Mr. Valentine, beaming. Smiling so widely, in fact, that he actually seemed taken aback.

―Isn‘t it a marvelous evening?" she asked, because it was .

―Er, yes." He blinked a few times, then shot a quick look over to Sebastian, almost as if checking for approval. Or maybe just to see if he was watching.

―I am so glad that you are attending," she continued, gazing happily at the soup. She was hungry. Happiness always made her hungry. She looked back up at Mr. Valentine, lest he think she was pleased by the soup‘s attendance (although she was; she really was), and added, ―I had not realized that you would be here." Her grandmother had obtained a guest list from Lady Challis, and Annabel was certain there had been no Valentines on it.

―I was a very recent addition."

―I am sure Lady Challis was most pleased to have you." She smiled again; she couldn‘t seem to help herself. ―Now then, Mr. Valentine, we must speak of far more important matters. I am sure you must know many terribly embarrassing stories about your cousin, Mr. Grey."

She leaned forward a bit, eyes gleaming. ―I want to hear the mall ."

Sebastian could not decide if he was intrigued or enraged.

No, not true. He pondered rage for about two moments, then remembered he never got angry and decided he preferred intrigue.

He had almost interceded when Newbury had cornered Annabel in the drawing room, and in fact he‘d had quite the most delicious urge to pinch his uncle on the eyelid after he‘d pinched Annabel on the bum. But just as he stepped forward, Annabel had undergone the most remarkable transformation. For a few moments, it was almost as if she wasn‘t there, as if her mind had lifted off and gone to some faraway, blissful spot.

She‘d looked lifted. Weightless.

Sebastian could not fathom what his uncle might have said to make her so happy, but he recognized the futility of trying to question her while everyone was filing in to supper.