Taming of Annabelle Read Online Free PDF Page B

And why waste time sleeping when she could be on the watch for Lord Sylvester?
    Finding the windows of her sitting room over-looked the main entrance, she settled down to wait.
    Small flakes of snow, round and hard as pellets, were beginning to fall. Annabelle watched as the bare branches of the trees began to bend in the rising wind and the sky grew even darker
above.
    She stared down the long straight drive. At one moment, she would think she could see a party of riders, and then the next, would realize that the blowing, thickening snow was tricking her
vision.
    And then all at once they appeared, clattering up the drive, Lord Sylvester and a middle-aged woman in a smart frogged riding dress leading the way.
    Annabelle sprang to her feet, and then stood irresolute. She did not want to confront all these strangers. At last she decided to creep quietly to the top of the stairs and see if she could find
a chance to speak to Lord Sylvester when the others had retired to their rooms.
    There was an alcove with a large bronze statue of Zeus on the first landing and Annabelle managed to hide behind it without being seen by any of the guests or servants.
    Several young women and men mounted the stairs and passed her. After what seemed an unbearably long time, the middle-aged lady came up and walked past, holding the long train of her riding dress
over one arm. She looked very elegant and mondaine. That must be Lady Coombes, thought Annabelle, remembering Minerva’s description of the guests.
    Then there was a long silence, punctuated only by faint sounds of voices and laughter from the rooms above.
    Annabelle slipped quietly down the stairs to the main hall. The statues surrounding the hall seemed to watch her with their bronze eyes.
    There were so many rooms. Where could he have gone? A butler wearing a green baize apron came into the hall and Annabelle flashed him a bright smile.
    ‘Can you tell me the whereabouts of Lord Sylvester Comfrey?’ she asked.
    ‘In the library, miss,’ replied the butler.
    ‘Which is . . . ?’
    ‘Over there, miss, at the far end of the hall on the right.’
    Annabelle’s heart began to beat hard and she felt a suffocating constriction at her chest. For one desperate moment she wanted to turn and flee, but the butler was standing gravely
watching her so she put up her chin and marched to the back of the hall.
    Gently she pushed open the library door and walked inside. Lord Sylvester was standing over at one of the long windows, a calf-bound volume in his hand. He was wearing a dark forest-green coat
over a short waistcoat of printed Marseilles, kerseymere breeches and brown top boots. His light-brown hair was artistically arranged as if he had just left the hands of the hairdresser. He did not
look up as Annabelle entered, seeming totally immersed in his book.
    ‘One would not think you had just been out riding,’ said Annabelle in a breathless voice. ‘You look as if you had just stepped out of a bandbox.’
    Lord Sylvester lowered his book and turned and looked at Annabelle, his green eyes totally expressionless.
    ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Annabelle,’ he said languidly. ‘I did not hear what you said.’
    ‘I-I said you looked as if you had stepped from a bandbox instead of having been out riding,’ repeated Annabelle weakly. ‘I-I m-mean in this weather.’
    ‘Indeed?’ His lordship stood calmly surveying her, obviously waiting for her to go on.
    ‘There are a lot of books here,’ said Annabelle.
    ‘Yes. We are in the library.’
    ‘Do you read much?’
    ‘When I am allowed time to do so . . . yes.’
    ‘I . . . I read a lot too.’
    ‘Then you are in the right place,’ said his lordship blandly, tucking his book under one arm and making for the door. ‘You will find something to suit your taste, I am
sure.’
    ‘Wait!’ said Annabelle desperately. Had he not noticed how fine she looked in the gown with the cherry ribbons? ‘Perhaps you could suggest something .