Dancing at Midnight - Page 46/97

"A pretty speech, Lady Arabella, especially for one who obviously enjoys all the perks of her position. But not entirely appropriate for a gently-reared lady. You have become something of a bluestocking."

"At last! A compliment. I never thought to hear one from your lips. Now if you will excuse me, I am growing weary of this party." Belle purposefully turned her back on her hostess, well aware of the scandal such bad manners would create. "John, it was lovely seeing you again. I hope you call on me soon, but I must find Dunford and have him escort me back home. Good evening."

And while John was still reeling from her passionate defense, she honored him with her most radiant smile and swept past him. He was left facing a furious Lady Forthright who simply "harumphed" at him and bustled away.

John couldn't help himself. He started to laugh.

***
Later that evening, while the Blackwood brothers were on their way home, Damien brought up the subject of Belle's now obvious friendship with John. "I did not realize that you and Lady Arabella knew each other so well," he said with a frown.

One side of John's mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "She said we were well acquainted, didn't she?"

"Her passionate defense of your position would indicate that you are quite well acquainted."

"Well, we are quite."

Damien let the matter drop for a few minutes, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. "Do you intend to court her?"

"I have already said as much to the lady in question."

"I see."

John sighed. He was behaving rather sharply with his brother, and Damien really didn't deserve it. "I apologize if this puts a crimp in your plans. I assure you I did not know that you had tender feelings for Belle before I arrived. If you must know, she was the reason I came to town in the first place."

Damien pondered that slowly. "I wouldn't say I have tender feelings for her. I merely thought she would make me a good wife."

John looked at him oddly. He wondered if his brother's emotions ever ventured beyond appreciation or mild dislike.

"It is obvious, however," Damien continued, "that we would not suit at all. She is a great beauty, to be sure, but I cannot have a wife who spouts out such radical notions in public."

John's lips twitched. "Surely you, too, don't begrudge me my title."

"Of course not." Damien appeared affronted by the accusation. "You earned that title. And our father was, of course, an earl. But you must admit, too many cits are making their way into the aristocracy, whether by purchase or marriage. Lord only knows what's to become of us."

"Belle likes to read," John blurted out, just to make absolutely sure that his brother's interest in her would not resurface. "She's read the complete works of Shakespeare."

Damien shook his head. "I cannot imagine what I was thinking. Bluestockings can be such a nuisance, no matter how beautiful. They're so demanding."

John smiled.

"She wouldn't do, at all," Damien continued. "But you should try for her if you want. She'd be a great catch for a man of your position. Although I must warn you, her parents probably wouldn't approve of the match. I should think she could get a duke if she wanted."

"I imagine she could," John murmured. "If, of course, that was what she wanted."

The carriage came to a halt in front of Damien's town house. When they entered the main hall, Lightbody greeted them with a note which he said had been left expressly for Lord Blackwood. Curious, John unfolded the paper.

I am in London.

John frowned as he remembered the two similar messages he'd received a few weeks earlier. He'd thought that they had been meant for Bletchford Manor's previous owners, but now he realized that he was mistaken.

"Someone you know?" Damien inquired.

"I'm not sure," John replied slowly. "I'm not sure at all."

Chapter 12

John arrived at Belle's house the next morning, arms laden with chocolates and flowers. It amazed him how easy this was-to simply allow her to lighten his heart. He'd been smiling all morning.

Belle was unable to keep the delight from her eyes when she came downstairs to greet him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" she asked with a bright smile.

"I said I was going to court you, didn't I?" John responded, thrusting the flowers into her arms. "Consider yourself courted."

"How romantic," she said, not without a twinge of sarcasm.

"I hope you like chocolates."

Belle suppressed a smile. He was trying very hard. "I love them."

"Excellent." He shot her a jaunty grin. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all."

Persephone chose that moment to sail down the stairs. "Good morning, Belle," she said. "Won't you introduce me to your guest?"

Belle did the honors, and while John was deciding which chocolate to pop in his mouth, Persephone leaned over and whispered, "He's very handsome."

Belle nodded.

"And he looks quite virile."

Belle's eyes widened. "Persephone," she whispered. "I feel I must inform you that this is not the normal type of conversation between a chaperone and her charge."

"Is it not? It ought to be, I think. Ah well, I fear I will never get this chaperoning business right. Pray do not tell Alex of my shortcomings."

"I like you just the way you are," Belle said honestly.

"Isn't that sweet of you, dear? Well, I'm off. The coachman has promised to take me on a tour of London, and I want to make sure we get to all the dangerous parts before dark."