Belle took a deep breath of the crisp air. “I don’t think I’ve ever been out this time of the morning. At least not on purpose.”
John offered her a rakish grin. “And would you say it was on purpose that you’re out now?”
“Well, maybe not exactly.” She blushed. “But I had been hoping...”
“You’re shameless.”
“Perhaps, but you’ll note that this story has a happy ending.”
John’s thoughts turned to the mystery man who had attacked them both. “Unfortunately, this particular chapter has not reached a conclusion.”
Belle sobered. “Well, a happy middle, then. Or whatever it is one calls the part right before the climax.”
“I rather thought we climaxed last night.”
Belle’s cheeks reached unparalleled heights of pinkness. “I was speaking in literary terms,” she muttered unnecessarily.
John decided to stop torturing her and shut his still smiling mouth. After a suitable interlude, he asked, “Do you think Persephone will have risen yet?”
Belle frowned and looked at the sky, which was still pink and orange with the last stripes of dawn. “I’m not certain. She’s a strange bird. I never know quite what to make of her. Besides, I’m rarely up at this hour, so I wouldn’t know if she’s an early riser.”
“Well, for your sake I hope she’s still abed. The only thing she could really do is insist that I marry you, which wouldn’t be a problem because I plan to do exactly that and with all possible haste. All the same, I’d like to avoid screaming and swooning and all that female nonsense.”
Belle gave him a sharp look at the “female nonsense” comment and muttered, “I imagine that Persephone and I will manage to comport ourselves in a manner so as not to offend your masculine sensibilities.”
John’s lips twitched. “See that you do.”
Belle was spared from further comment by their arrival at her front steps. She had had the foresight to bring a key with her the previous night, and they slipped silently inside. John immediately made as if to leave, not wanting to create a scene.
“Please don’t go yet,” Belle said quickly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. Amazingly, none of the servants had witnessed their clandestine entrance. “Wait for me in the library. I’ll run up and change into something more suitable.”
John regarded her masculine attire with a smile and nodded as Belle scurried up the stairs. She stopped on the landing, looked back down with an impish grin, and said, “We have much to discuss.”
He nodded again as he saw himself into the library. He trailed his fingers along the spines of the books until he found one with an intriguing title and plucked it off the shelf. He browsed through it lazily, not paying much attention to the words. His thoughts rested stubbornly on the fair-haired angel just upstairs from him. What on earth had possessed her to climb a tree to his third-story window? Not that he was displeased with the results, but still, he’d kill her if she tried something like that again. He sighed as his body grew warm, not with desire but with contentment.
She was his. He still wasn’t certain how it had all come about, but she was his.
Belle reappeared dressed in a pale pink frock which brought out the natural rosiness of her cheeks. Her hair had been hastily pulled back into a loose knot which, while no one would mistake the style for fashionable, was at least presentable.
John raised a brow at her speedy transformation. “Only five minutes, my lady. I am stunned...and impressed.”
“Oh, come now, it’s not that difficult to get oneself dressed,” Belle said.
“My sisters could never accomplish it in less than two hours.”
“I suppose it all depends on how badly one wants to get where one is going.”
“And did you want to get where you were going very badly?”
“Oh, yes,” Belle breathed. “Very badly.” She took a step toward him, and then another and another, until they were quite close. “I think you’ve made a wanton out of me.”
“I certainly hope so.”
Belle noticed that his breathing had grown slightly ragged and smiled. It was nice to know that she could affect him the way he did her. “Oh, by the way,” she said offhandedly. “It usually does take more than five minutes for a lady to get changed.”
“What?” John’s eyes had glazed over with desire, and his mind absolutely refused to comprehend her statement.
Belle turned around. “The buttons.”
He sucked in his breath as he gazed at her smooth white back, laid bare by her gaping dress.
“Would you mind?” she asked softly.
Wordlessly, John slipped her buttons into their buttonholes, his fingers straying to her warm skin at every possible occasion. When he reached the top one, he leaned down and dropped a tender kiss on the fragrant skin of her neck.
“Thank you,” Belle said softly as she turned around. Every nerve ending on her neck and back felt as if it had suddenly come alive. Aware that she was going to have to behave with a bit more propriety—they were in her father’s library, after all—she moved over to an overstuffed leather chair and sat down. “We do have a few matters to discuss,” she said after making herself comfortable.
“Tomorrow.” John lowered himself into the chair next to hers.
“I beg your pardon?”
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
Belle blinked. “That’s a bit soon, don’t you think?” She had resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to have the wedding of her dreams, but she rather thought she deserved something a little special. She doubted that any of her relatives would be able to make it to London to witness her nuptials if John had his way.
“I’d do it today, but I think a lady ought to have a bit of time.”
Belle eyed him warily, hoping that he was being sarcastic. “We don’t need to be quite so hasty.”
Her words did not worry him; John knew that she wasn’t trying to back out of the marriage. Still, he had no desire for a long engagement. Not after what he had tasted the night before. “I should think we need to be extremely hasty. I want you near me where I can see to your safety. Not to mention the fact that you could be carrying my child.”
Belle paled. She had been so swept away by passion she hadn’t even given a thought to the possible consequences. She supposed that was why so many people ended up having rather inconvenient babies. “I wasn’t proposing that we wait for months. I was merely hoping for a week or so. Besides, you will need time to obtain a special license.”
“Got it.”
“Already?”
“Last week. When I gave you a fortnight to wait for your parents to get home.”
“My fortnight is not up.” Belle smiled triumphantly and leaned back. She had won herself a few days, at least.
“Sorry, but that offer was extended before I realized that we had a rather inconvenient enemy. I’m no longer willing to wait that long. I’ll say it again—I want you near me where I can keep an eye on you.”
Belle sighed to herself. He was really being quite romantic, and she was certainly not immune to a little romance. Still, she doubted that she could even get herself a new dress for her wedding if it were held tomorrow. The thought of getting married in one of her old frocks was decidedly not romantic. She looked up at him, trying to deduce whether there was any use in pleading her cause. He looked implacable. “All right. Tomorrow it is. In the evening,” she added quickly.
“I thought weddings were held in the morning.”
“This one won’t be,” she muttered.
John nodded graciously. He could grant her that. He rose and smoothed down his coat. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some arrangements to make. Have you a favorite clergyman? Someone whom you would especially like to perform the service?”
Belle was touched that he had thought to ask but told him that there was no one in particular of whom she was especially fond. “But you’d better take some of my footmen with yo
u,” she added. “I don’t want you going out alone.”
John assented. He was of the opinion that his enemy would choose to attack at night, but there seemed no reason not to take precautions. “And I want you to stay here,” he warned.
She smiled at his concern. “You can be assured that if I do go out, I shall take along no less than eight companions.”
“I shall personally throttle you if you do not,” John grumbled. “I’ll call later today once I know when a clergyman is available.”
Belle followed him out into the hall and arranged for two of her footmen to spend the day with him. She accompanied him to the front door, where he took her hand and placed a light kiss on her palm. “Oh, John,” she sighed. “Will I ever get enough of you?”
“I certainly hope not.” He smiled cheekily and slipped out the door.
Belle shook her head and wandered up the stairs. Good God, was she really getting married tomorrow?
She sighed. She was.
She made her way to her bedroom and crossed over to her desk and sat down. She pulled out some of her writing paper and a quill. Where to start? She decided to write to her brother.
Dearest Ned,
I am getting married tomorrow evening. Won’t you come?
Belle
She smiled and slipped the cryptic note into a creamy envelope. That ought to get him down to London in a hurry. Her note to Dunford was identical except that she included John’s name. Not that it would come as much of a surprise to him.
Emma wouldn’t stand for anything quite as mysterious, so Belle decided to be frank. Besides, her cousin already knew quite a bit about her relationship with John.
Dearest Emma,
To my great joy, John and I have decided to marry. Unfortunately, we must do so with great haste.
Belle frowned as she wrote that. Emma would certainly think the worst. Of course, she would be correct, but Belle was not inclined to think of the recent events in her life as the “worst” anything. Nevertheless, she continued on in her missive.
I realize that this is terribly short notice, but I hope that you and Alex will be able to come to London tomorrow for my wedding. Unfortunately, I do not yet know the exact time of the ceremony, but it will be held in the evening.
Belle’s frown turned into a grimace. That was a lot of “unfortunatelys” for what was supposed to be a joyous event. She was really making a mess of this. Giving up all pretense of elegant writing, she quickly finished up the note.
I imagine you’re surprised. I’m a little surprised myself. I’ll explain it all to you when you arrive.
Much love,
Belle
She was just about to take the letters downstairs and ask a servant to summon three swift messengers when Persephone walked by her open door.
“Goodness, you’re up early,” the older lady exclaimed.
Belle smiled and nodded, suppressing the devilish urge to point out that she had never precisely gone to bed.
“Any particular reason?” Persephone persisted.
“I’m getting married tomorrow.” No reason not to be blunt.
Persephone blinked like an owl. “Excuse me?”
“Married.”
The blinking continued. Belle revised her opinion slightly and decided that her chaperone resembled an ordinary owl not so much as a somewhat deficient one. After a few moments, however, her birdlike friend regained her voice. “Is it someone we know?”
“Why, Lord Blackwood, of course,” Belle snapped irritatedly. “Who else?”
Persephone shrugged her shoulders. “He has not come by for some time.”
“I’d hardly call a few days ‘some time,’ ” Belle said defensively. “And anyway, that is much beside the point as we are reconciled and getting married tomorrow evening.”
“Indeed.”
“Aren’t you even going to congratulate me?”
“Of course, dear. You know that I think he is a very fine man, but I feel that I have somehow failed in my duties as your chaperone. However will I explain this to your parents?”
“You don’t even know my parents, and furthermore, they haven’t the slightest due that I’ve got a chaperone.” Belle looked over to Persephone and immediately realized that she had said the wrong thing. The older lady seemed to have metamorphosed from an ill owl to an agitated ferret. “Try to think of it this way,” Belle offered hopefully. “The aim of all young ladies is to get married, or so we’re told. Correct?”
Persephone nodded, but she looked dubious.
“I’m getting married. Therefore I have achieved a noble goal, and this reflects well on you, as my chaperone and companion.” Belle smiled weakly, unable to think of the last time she had uttered such complete nonsense.
Persephone shot her a look which seemed to say, “Oh, really?” in the most sarcastic of tones.
“All right,” Belle gave in. “It’s an uncommon situation, I admit. And people will probably talk about it for weeks. We’ve simply got to make the best of it. And besides all that, I’m happy.”
Persephone’s lips curved into a romantic half-smile. “Then that’s all that matters.”
Belle was certain that she would never be able to sleep that night, but she awoke the next morning feeling rather refreshed. John had come by again the day before to tell her that he had found a priest who would marry them at seven o’clock the following evening. Belle had smiled, insisted that he keep her footmen for the rest of the day, and then politely pushed him out of the house. She had things to do.
Determined not to have a completely untraditional wedding, she arranged to have dozens of flowers sent to her house and then dragged Persephone out shopping for a dress. Needless to say, they brought along several male servants as escorts. Belle did not like to think of herself as panicky, but then again, she had no wish to be dragged off into another filthy alleyway.
Madame Lambert shrieked at the idea of producing a wedding dress on such short notice but nonetheless managed to provide Belle with an extremely flattering green silk gown which needed only minor alterations. The dress was simply cut, with the skirt falling gracefully to the floor from a high empire waistline. The neckline left her shoulders slightly bared and was adorned by layers of gauzy white material. The dress was more appropriate for warmer weather, but Belle decided that under the circumstances she really couldn’t complain.
The rest of the day passed with surprising slowness. Belle had always thought of weddings as requiring mountains of preparations but quickly found that these mountains melted away when one’s marriage was to be performed in one’s home with less than a half dozen guests.
And now it was the day of her marriage, and she had absolutely nothing to do except sit around and be nervous. She’d feel better when Emma arrived, she decided. What she needed was some female company. Persephone was lovely, but she’d never been married and wasn’t much help. She’d tried to have a “little talk” with Belle the night before, but it soon became painfully apparent that she had far less to “talk” about than Belle did. And Belle was quite determined to keep her mouth shut.
The conversation disintegrated rather quickly.
Unfortunately, Emma seemed to be taking her own sweet time in getting to London. Belle wandered aimlessly about the house all day, quite unable to concentrate on anything. She nibbled at breakfast, picked at her lunch, and then finally settled into a window seat in her mother’s drawing room and stared out at the street.
Persephone came by and poked her head into the room. “Is everything all right, dear?”
Belle didn’t turn around. For some inexplicable reason, her gaze was completely fixed on a small black dog yapping along the sidewalk. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“Are you certain? You look a bit...strange.”
Belle tore her eyes off of the cityscape and turned to face Persephone. “I’m fine, really. I just haven’t anything to do, that’s all. And if I did, I doubt I’d be able to concentrate on it.”
> Persephone smiled and nodded. Wedding jitters. She left the room.
Belle turned back to the window. The dog had departed the scene, so she decided to watch the leaves on the tree across the way. How many would fall off in such a strong wind?
Good God, when had she grown so melodramatic? She now knew why people made such a fuss about weddings. It was to keep the bride’s mind occupied, lest she fall into strange mental chasms.
Strange mental chasms? Where had that come from? Now she knew she was really in trouble. She went back to her bedroom, laid herself down on her bed, and by sheer force of will made herself go to sleep.
She only realized that she’d drifted off when Persephone began to shake her by her shoulders. “My heavens, girl,” she was saying. “I cannot believe you’ve been napping on your wedding day.”
Belle rubbed her eyes, marveling that she had actually been able to force herself to sleep. “There seemed naught better to do,” she said groggily.
“Well, Lord Blackwood’s downstairs with the Reverend Mr. Dawes, and he’s looking rather anxious to get on with the proceedings.”
“What time is it?” Belle asked, coming awake rather quickly.
“Half past six in the evening.”
Good Lord, how long had she been asleep? “Have any of my relatives arrived yet?” All three of them, Belle thought ruefully.
“No, but I hear that the roads out of town have been muddy of late.”
Belle sighed. “Well, I suppose we can’t wait all night for them. Please tell Lord Blackwood that I’ll be down just as soon as I can. Oh, and if you don’t mind, don’t tell him that I was sleeping.”
Persephone nodded and left the room.
Belle got to her feet and crossed over to her dressing room where her slightly too casual wedding dress was hanging. She supposed she ought to ring for her maid to help her dress. She’d always dreamed that she’d have her mother and Emma and perhaps a few friends with her to help her into her wedding gown. They would be laughing and joking and giggling over every little thing. It would be a grand affair, and she would feel like a queen. But there was no one. She was alone.