Dancing at Midnight (38 page)

"Hmmm, that's most odd."

"If you wouldn't mind continuing your conversation at a later date,"

John said from halfway down the pile, "we'd like to get

out of the carriage."

"Ooops. I'm sorry. Bottomley, would you catch me if I slide down?" At

his nod, she clambered through the opening and slid

down the side of the carriage. "Wait there for Emma. I think she's

next." Belle darted around to inspect the damage. The left wheel had

come completely off and rolled down the street, where a group of urchins

had already claimed it as their own.

"What do you see?" Emma came round the carriage.

"It looks like someone simply loosened the wheel. Nothing appears to be

cut or permanently damaged."

"Hmmm." Emma lifted her skirts and crouched down to take a look.

"Will you get out of the street?" Alex was the next one out of the

carriage, and he, too, wanted to examine the carriage.

He stuck one hand under his wife's arm and yanked her up.

"It appears we had a rather gentle assailant," Emma said. "Either that,

or one who doesn't know how to use a saw."

John appeared around the corner, looking absolutely furious. "What did

he saw off?"

"Nothing," Alex replied. "Just loosened the wheel."

John swore under his breath. "I apologize for placing you and your wife

in danger. Belle and I will return home immediately,

and I will forward you funds to cover the cost of the carriage."

Before Belle could protest, Alex held up a hand and said, "Nonsense.

There is no permanent damage to the carriage. All we

need is another wheel."

"What's this about a wheel?" Dunford finally emerged, looking rather

crumpled.

"It came off," the other four said in unison.

"You needn't get so testy about it. I just got here."

"Sorry," Belle offered. "I feel like I've been standing here for an hour."

"You probably have," Dunford replied dryly. "You had the tremendous good

fortune, if you recall, to have landed at the top of

the pile. By the way, I sent Bottomley back to your place, Ash-bourne,

to fetch some help to clear this out. I shouldn't think

it will take him long. We're actually only a couple of streets away from

your home." He walked over to where the left rear

wheel should have been. "I must say, Spencer did a rather poor job of

it. If he wanted to crash a carriage, there are far more clever ways to

go about it. He didn't even manage to break a single bone among the five

of us."

Belle rolled her eyes. "You are so adept at finding the bright side."

John scowled and pulled her against his side. "I'm thankful that no one

is hurt, but you'll pardon me if I don't see a bright side.

I will not be the cause of any of your deaths. Lef s be off, Belle.

We're going home."

"So he can pick you off with a bullet as we walk back? I think not."

"Belle's right," Alex said. "You're far safer with us than without us."

"Yes," John replied acerbically. "But /you're /far safer without us than

you are with us."

"Will you pardon us for a moment?" Belle said, pulling her husband a few

feet away from the small crowd. "You must listen to

me, John," she whispered. "Weren't you the one who told me that we

cannot spend the rest of our lives dodging this man? He sounds just

crazy enough to try something tonight at the Tumbley bash. If we catch

him, we'll have hundreds of witnesses.

He'll be put away for the rest of his life."

"Perhaps, but what if he succeeds? Or even worse, what if he misses me

and gets you? Belle, I promise you that we will not

have to run from this man all of our lives. I will deal with him, but I

won't do it in a way that will put you in danger. You must

trust me—this is not a man with whom any woman wants to be alone."

John clutched her shoulders tightly. "Belle, I can't live without you.

Don't you realize he now has two targets? If he kills you,

he might as well have killed me."

Tears pooled in Belle's eyes at his urgent words. "I love you, too,

John. And you know how nervous I am for your safety. But

I cannot live my life looking over my shoulder, either. And we're not

going to get a better chance to trap Spencer than tonight."

"I'll go, then." He moved his hands to his hips. "But you're going home."

"I'm not going to wait in my room like a terrified little mouse," Belle

said, her eyes flashing. "Together we can do anything.

Alone, we're nothing. Have faith in me, John."

"I seem to recall your begging me not to take any unnecessary chances.

Allow me the same courtesy. Go home, Belle.

I have enough to worry about without having to keep an eye on you."

"John, for one last time, listen to what I'm saying. Do you love me?"

"Christ, Belle," he said raggedly. "You know I do."

"Well, the woman with whom you fell in love is not the kind of woman who

can sit patiently at home when the man she loves is

in danger. I think we can trap Spencer if we have enough people on our

side. He's obviously not very bright. He couldn't even wreck a carriage

properly. With all five of us working together, we can beat him. And

tonight may provide the perfect opportunity."

"Belle, if something happens to you ..."

"I know, darling. I feel the same way about you. But nothing is going to

happen. I love you too much to allow it."

John looked down into her bright blue eyes, shining with love and faith

and hope. "Oh darling," he said huskily. "You heal me.

You make me believe that I actually deserve all this happiness."

"You do."

John placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Hold still for a

moment," he said softly. "I just want to look at you. I want to

carry this picture of you with me for the rest of my life. I don't think

you've ever looked as beautiful as you do right now."

Belle flushed with pleasure. "Don't be silly. My dress is crumpled, and

I'm sure my hair is mussed, and—"

"Shhhh. Don't say anything. Just look at me. In this light your eyes

look almost purple. Like black raspberries."

Belle laughed softly. "You must be in a state of perpetual hunger. You

keep likening me to fruit."

"Do I?" John couldn't take his eyes off her lips, which he had just been

thinking looked like ripe cherries.

"Yes, you once said my ears were like apricots."

"So I did. I suppose you're right. I've been hungry since I met you."

She blushed.

"Yoo-hoo! Young lovers!"

John and Belle finally tore their eyes off of each other and turned,

blinking, to Dunford, who was walking their way.

"If the two of you can stop making verbal love to each other, we can be

on our way. In case you hadn't noticed, the fresh

carriage is here."

John took a deep and ragged breath before turning to Dunford and saying,

"Tact, I take it, was not emphasized in your upbringing."

Dunford smiled merrily. "Not at all. Shall we be off?"

John turned to Belle and offered her his arm. "My dear?"

Belle accepted his gesture with a smile, but as

they passed Dunford, she turned and hissed, "I'm going to kill you for

this."

"I'm sure you'll try."

"This carriage isn't as warm as the other one," Alex said with an

apologetic smile. "I don't usually use it in winter."

In a few moments the entire crowd was settled into the carriage, and

they were back on their way to the Tumbley winter ball. Belle and John

huddled together in the corner, turning to each other against the cold.

John laid his hand on hers, idly tapping his fingers against her

knuckles. She felt warmed by his touch and looked up at him. He had been

staring down at her, his brown

eyes warm and velvety soft.

Belle couldn't help herself. She let out a little mewl of contentment.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Dunford exclaimed, turning to Alex and Emma. "Will

you look at them? Even the two of you weren't this nauseating."

"Someday," Belle interrupted in a low voice, her finger jabbing at him,

"you're going to meet the woman of your dreams, and

then I'm going to make your life miserable."

"Afraid not, my dear Arabella. The woman of my dreams is such a paragon

she couldn't possibly exist."

"Oh, please," Belle snorted. "I bet that within a year you'll be tied

up, leg-shackled, and loving it." She sat back with a satisfied smile.

Beside her John was shaking with mirth.

Dunford leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'll take that

bet. How much are you willing to lose?"

"How much are /you /willing to lose?"

Emma turned to John. "You seem to have married a gambling woman."

"Had I known, you can be sure I would have weighed my actions more

carefully."

Belle gave him a playful jab in the ribs as she leveled a quelling stare

at Dunford and asked, "Well?"

"A thousand pounds."

"Done."

"Are you crazy?" John's hand tightened considerably around her fingers.

"Am I to assume that only men can gamble?"

"Nobody makes such a fool's bet, Belle," John said. "You've just made a

wager with the man who controls the outcome.

You can only lose."

"Don't underestimate the power of love, my dear. Although in Dunford's

case, perhaps only lust is necessary."

"You wound me," Dunford replied, placing his hand dramatically over his

heart for emphasis. "Assuming I am incapable of the higher emotions."

"Aren't you?"

John, Alex, and Emma watched the interchange with considerable interest

and amusement. "I had no idea you were such a formidable adversary, my

dear," John said.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Belle scoffed. She sat back

with a self-satisfied smile. "Just wait until the evening is through."

A queer feeling settled in John's stomach. "I'm dreading every moment of

it."

*

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*Chapter 23

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"Merciful heavens!" came the hideous JW^lshriek. "What happened to you?"

Belle cringed. She'd forgotten about Lady Tumbley's distinctive voice,

which was permanently lodged in the soprano register.

"A carriage accident," Alex said smoothly. "But we were so anxious to

come tonight, we decided against turning back and changing. We're just a

bit rumpled. I hope you'll forgive us."

Back in the carriage, it had been decided that Alex, as the highest

ranking member of their group, should act as their spokesperson. His

speech, which was accompanied by his most debonair smile, did the trick,

and Lady Tumbley was soon preening most unattractively.

"Well, of course I don't mind, your grace," she gushed. "I'm so honored

that you accepted my invitation. It has been many

years since we've seen you here."

Belle noticed that Alex's smile had grown tight. "A mistake I must

rectify," he said.

Lady Tumbley started to bat her eyelashes, a gesture which did not suit

a lady of her years and girth. When she finally

stilled her eyelids, she looked straight at John and said, "And who have

we here?"

Belle stepped forward. "My husband, my lady."

"Your what?"

Belle stepped back. The screech had returned.

John took Lady Tumbley's hand and kissed her knuckles. "John Blackwood

at your service, my lady."

"But Lady Arabella, my dear, I mean, Lady Blackwood, I just, well, I

hadn't heard you'd been married. When did this occur?

And, er, was it a large wedding?"

In other words—why hadn't she been invited?

"It was quite small, Lady Tumbley," Belle said. "Two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago? An entire fortnight? And I hadn't heard?"

"It was in the /Times," /John put in.

"Perhaps, but I..."

"Perhaps you ought to read the newspaper more often," Belle said sweetly.

"Perhaps I should. If you'll excuse me." Lady Tumbley smiled awkwardly,

bobbed a curtsy, and darted into the crowds.

"Our first objective has been fulfilled," Belle announced. "Within five

minutes everyone will know that, one, our crumpled appearance is due to

a carriage mishap, and two, I have married a most mysterious man about

whom no one knows anything."

"In other words, everyone will know we're here," John said. "Including

Spencer."

"If he comes," Emma said thoughtfully. "I doubt he's been invited."

"It's easy enough to sneak into such a large party." Dunford said. "I've

done it a few times myself."

Emma looked at him oddly before asking, "What do we do now?"

"I suppose we mingle," Belle replied. "But we ought to try to stay in

close proximity of each other. One of us might need help."

Belle looked around. Lady Tumbley had outdone herself this year, and the

party glittered with candles, jewels, and smiles. The ballroom was one

of the most distinctive in London, with a second floor gallery ringing

the room. Belle had always thought that

the Tumbley children must have spent countless nights up there peeping

down at the elegant lords and ladies below. Belle sighed to herself,

praying that she and John would get through this evening without harm,

so that their children might someday be able

to behave similarly.