Free A Lot Like a Lady by Kim Bowman, Kay Springsteen

and paused to take a calming breath, but his vexation wasn’t to be contained. “I abhor the dreadful things and you fiendishly well know it, Annabella .”
    Her eyes went round and wide, and though difficult to tell in the glow of the chandelier, her face seemed to pale considerably. Grey’s heart tugged in response to such obvious fear and he recoiled a couple of steps. He needed to find out if what he suspected was true, but such a matter had to be handled with the utmost delicacy or he’d only end up the primary source of the ton’s merriment for months to come.
    Seeking distance, he paced the length of the room, stopping at the buffet. Briefly, he considered the decanter of fine aged Madeira and actually lifted his hand to reach for it. He shook his head and turned back to the girl on the couch near his fireplace.
    She continued to sit, still as a statue, her skin as white as fine marble, lending to the illusion. Was it fear then, because she knew he’d seen through her sham? He narrowed his eyes. The pinch of the perpetual frown he’d worn from the moment he’d set eyes on his stepsister in front of his home.
    He needed to determine what she was up to before he could dispense with her. He drew a deep breath and expelled the air in a long exhale, forcing his muscles to relax. So the chit thought she could play him for a flat. He’d have to put the boot on the other leg, then.
    “You’ve been in the country a long time,” he said, crossing the room to stand before her again.
    Slowly, she nodded, this time holding her tongue. A look of wariness had crept into her eyes.
    “Perhaps you were tired from traveling,” he suggested, raising one eyebrow.
    Annabella’s shoulders relaxed and she proffered another feeble smile.
    His ruse had worked. He smiled back. “Your mother has begged me to find a suitable match for you.”
    She opened her mouth to speak but he forestalled her by holding up his hand.
    Warming to his task, Grey began pacing again, presenting his back to her as he thought aloud. “Yes, you’re most certainly of marriageable age. In fact, getting past the point where you should already be wed. I have a business associate I can introduce you to. He’s got some holdings, a title. And not too far beyond his prime.” He whirled around and pinned her with a hard stare as he paced back in her direction. “I think we can have a match made by the end of the Season.”
    “Oh, but—”
    Abruptly he bent and took Annabella’s chin in his fingers, peering into her face. “You have grown into your large teeth, haven’t you?”
    She jerked backward, but having nowhere to go, could only tremble beneath his fingers. He expelled another frustrated breath, dropped his hand, then took a step back. Of all his shortcomings, and indeed he had many, frightening young women had never numbered among his sins. He wasn’t going to start now.
    But blast it all, he was tired of the sham. It couldn’t be allowed to continue. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think we’ve had enough untruth for the evening, don’t you? Where is my stepsister? Has she been harmed?”
    Annabella’s lips parted and she drew in a sharp breath. Color returned to her face, two red spots that settled in her cheeks. The hesitation was slight but it was long enough to show her indecision.
    “I beg your pardon. I am sitting here in front of you.”
    Grey’s head snapped back. Had he been mistaken after all? The little chit’s tongue certainly was as sharp as he recalled his stepsister’s being. She twisted her hands together. No. He hadn’t made any mistake.
    “Yes, you are certainly sitting right in front of me. We’ll get to exactly who you are in a moment.” He leaned over her again. “Tell me the whereabouts of my stepsister and whether or not she is in danger.”
    “Have you gone cork-brained?” asked Charity from the doorway. “The girl is seated before you.”
    Grey stiffened. “Lady Charity, this is not