Free Taming of Annabelle by MC Beaton Page B

his natural prudence would have told
him not to rush into too hasty a marriage.
    He was also much influenced by the fact that his friend, Lord Sylvester, was to marry into the same family. He trusted Sylvester’s cool judgement and never paused to think that two very
different birds could come from the same family nest.
    He was tired of wars and adventures and was anxious to settle down. He was prepared to resign himself to a round of London amusements first, since he considered it would be unfair to deprive his
young bride of all the pleasures he had himself begun to find wearisome.
    Lord Sylvester, after lazily offering his congratulations, had spoken no more on the subject of his friend’s marriage and the Marquess took his subsequent silence for approval. He would
have been amazed had he known that Lord Sylvester was extremely worried.
    In Minerva’s case, commonsense had been overridden by family loyalty, and she assured Lord Sylvester that Annabelle was deeply in love with the Marquess.
    Lord Sylvester was anxious to believe Minerva. But there was one thing he could not bring himself to tell her.
    He had been all too well aware of Annabelle’s infatuation for him. And although he had thought it quickly over, he could not rid himself of the impression that she was jealous of Minerva
and was marrying Peter simply in a spirit of sisterly rivalry.
    The Marquess had planned to leave Haeter Abbey at the same time as Annabelle, but he had been summoned to Horseguards to give evidence in an enquiry into the sufficiency, or insufficiency, of
army rations, and was too much of a soldier to beg liberty for personal reasons.
    Lord Sylvester was anxious to return to his own estates to deal with matters there, since he had promised his bride a travelling honeymoon through such countries as were left free of
Napoleon’s rule.
    Annabelle had become accustomed to life at the Abbey. It was like living in a very grandly equipped village, she thought. She had explored everywhere, from the rich state apartments inside to
the granary, dairies, stables, pottery, carpenter’s shop, gardens, succession houses, and deer park on the outside. The vicarage loomed very dark, small and poky in her memory. But Minerva
had received a letter from Mrs Armitage who complained bitterly about her failing health brought about by the onerous duties of the parish.
    Deirdre and Daphne were in trouble. They had dressed Farmer Baxter’s prize pig in one of Frederica’s gowns and had driven it across the village green. This had fortunately happened
when the vicar was at the Abbey and his wrath had not been quite what it might had he been present at the time.
    Now the vicar was home and it was time for the girls to return as well. Annabelle had begged Minerva to extend their stay, but Minerva had pointed out that the Duchess would not appreciate their
presence a day longer, and for her part, she did not want to stay on when her fiancé was planning to leave.
    And so the two sisters set out for home on a bitterly cold day. The snow which had fallen on the day that Annabelle had talked to the Marquess in the library had thawed and frozen and thawed and
frozen so that the roads were full of treacherous, hard ruts. The maid, Betty, had contracted a severe cold and was to follow later.
    The wedding was to be held in St George’s, Hanover Square, in London, with full pomp and circumstance. Annabelle knew that the Duchess could hardly be expected to furnish a wedding dress
for her and was fretting over the idea that she would be outshone by Minerva who would be wearing several thousands of guineas’ worth of Brussels lace.
    As the carriage jolted along, she cast a sideways glance at her sister’s pensive face. ‘Glad to be going home, Merva?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes, particularly as Sylvester is leaving as well,’ said Minerva calmly. ‘It will not be long until we are both married, Bella. I wish it were not going to be such a grand
wedding. I