Dancing at Midnight

Alone on her wedding day. What a depressing thought.

Her thoughts strayed to John, who was undoubtedly waiting impatiently downstairs. She could see him in her mind's eye, pacing in the drawing room, his gait punctuated by the limp which had become so dear to her. Her lips tilted up into a smile. She wasn't alone. And she never would be.

She had just reached for the dress when she heard a commotion in the hallway. Her head swiv-eled instinctively toward the door as it burst open. Emma quite literally flew into the room.

"Good God, cousin!" she burst out, gasping for breath. Belle had no doubt that she'd taken the steps two at a time coming up the stairs. "Do you think you might have given me a little notice?"

"It was all somewhat sudden," Belle hedged.

"I suspect that that is something of an understatement."

Their attention was distracted by an even louder commotion in the hall.

"Oh dear," Emma muttered. "That would be Alex."

The man in question nearly kicked the door in.

"It certainly would," Belle returned dryly.

Alex's chest was heaving with exertion. Belle rather thought he'd taken the steps three at a time. He fixed his deadly green gaze on his wife, who had the grace to look at least a little uncomfortable.

"If I ever see you jump out of a carriage like that again, so help me God, I'm going to strangle you."

Emma chose the path of least resistance and avoided talking to her husband altogether. "He's a little overprotective due to my delicate condition," she said to Belle.

"Emma…" he said warningly.

John chose that moment to appear in the doorway. "What the hell is going on here?"

Belle shrieked, threw her arms up in the air, and ran into her dressing room. "You can't see me!" she yelled.

"Oh for God's sake, Belle. This isn't exactly a normal wedding."

"It's going to be as normal as I want it. So get out. I'll see you downstairs." Her voice was muffled, emerging through several layers of fabric and a rather thick wooden door.

Alex rolled his eyes and muttered, "Women," which caused his wife to glare at him most vigorously. "I need a drink." He stalked out of the room. John followed without a backward glance.

Emma shut the door quickly behind them and scurried over to the dressing room door. "They're gone," she said quietly, not at all sure why she was whispering.

"Are you certain?"

"For heaven's sake, Belle. I have eyes, don't I? I tell you, they're gone."

Belle poked her head around the side of the door, and when she was satisfied that the room was devoid of male creatures, ventured out.

" I used to think you were the most sensible person I knew," Emma muttered.

"I lost my sense," Belle said, meaning it.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?"

Belle nodded and a tear welled up in her eye. "I just thought it'd be different. My mother isn't even here!" She sniffled loudly.

Emma touched her arm, deeply moved by her cousin's tears. "You can wait, Belle. There is no reason you have to go through with this today."

Belle shook her head. "I can't wait, Emma. Not another day." And then she told her the entire story.

Chapter 17

Once Emma was convinced that Belle was truly in love with John, she helped her cousin into her wedding gown and proclaimed her the most radiant bride she'd ever seen.

"I suppose that means my eyes aren't bloodshot any longer," Belle joked. She'd let loose quite a torrent of tears.

Emma solemnly shook her head. "Do you want Alex to give you away?"

Belle frowned. "I had hoped that Ned would be here by now. If I cannot have a father of the bride, I was hoping for at least a brother. As it is, Father is going to be furious that he didn't get to give me away."

"Well, he got to give me away," Emma said efficiently. "That will have to do. Did Ned send a reply?"

"There wasn't time."

Emma nibbled at her lower lip. "Why don't I go downstairs and stall the proceedings? I'll be right back."

She slipped out the door and made her way to the drawing room. John was pacing back and forth, not so much with nervousness as with impatience. "What's taking so long?" he snapped.

Emma pursed her lips and looked up at the clock. "It's only ten minutes past seven. That's perfectly punctual for a wedding that is supposed to begin at seven."

"Women." This came from her husband, who was sprawled on a sofa which was much too small for his large frame. Dunford was sitting across from him, smirking.

Emma shot both of them a rather nasty look before turning back to her future cousin-in-law. "We only need a bit more time," she hedged.

"Emma, darling," her husband said in an unbelievably smooth tone. "Could you come here for a moment?"

Emma eyed him suspiciously but walked over to the couch.

"Do you see the priest over there?" he whispered.

She nodded.

"Do you see anything, er, shall we say, odd about him?"

Emma tilted her head as she surveyed the portly gentleman. "He does seem to be leaning a little to the left."

"Just so. He's been here thirty minutes, and that's his fourth glass of brandy. I think we ought to get this ceremony underway while we are still able."

Wordlessly, Emma exited the room and went back upstairs. When she reached Belle's bedroom, she said, "I don't think we can stall very long."

"Not even a few minutes?"

"Not if you want to get married tonight."

Belle had no idea what that meant but decided she'd rather not find out. She picked up a piece of white Spanish lace and fixed it on her head. "I suppose we cannot wait any longer for Ned. You had better summon Alex to give me away."