Dancing at Midnight

"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."