"Do what?"

"Forbid you."

"Well, no, he doesn't order me about like most men do to their wives, but he made it quite clear that he'd be extremely worried every time I took Boston out for a ride, and blast him, I love him too much to upset him like that. Sometimes it's best just to humor him."

"Mmm," Belle murmured. "Would you like some tea? I'm a bit chilled." She got up and rang for a maid.

"No, thank you, but go ahead and get some for yourself."

A maid entered silently and Emma ordered some tea. "Oh, and will you please tell Mrs. Goode that I'll come by to discuss this evening's menu within the hour? We'll be having a guest, so I think we ought to do something special."

The maid nodded and left the room.

"Who is dining with us tonight?" Belle inquired.

"That John Blackwood fellow you met a few days ago. Alex invited him yesterday. Don't you remember? I think we discussed it at tea."

Belle felt her heart sink down to her stomach. She'd forgotten all about their dinner plans. "It slipped my mind, I guess," she said, wishing that she already had her tea so that she could hide her face with the cup. Her cheeks were growing unpleasantly warm.

If Emma noticed Belle's blush, however, she made no mention of it. Belle immediately began discussing the latest fashions from Paris, and the two ladies stayed on that topic until long after the tea arrived.

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***
Belle dressed with particular care that evening, knowing full well that John was the reason for her assiduousness. She chose a simply cut gown of ice blue silk which set off her eyes and wore her hair piled loosely atop her head, allowing soft wispy curls to frame her face. A strand of pearls and matching earrings completed the look, and, satisfied with her appearance, she headed downstairs.

Emma and Alex were already in the parlor waiting for John to arrive. Belle barely had time to sit down when the butler entered the room.

"Lord Blackwood."

Belle looked up as Norwood finished intoning John's name. Alex rose and strode to the doorway to greet his friend. "Blackwood, good to see you again."

John nodded and smiled. Belle was irritated by the fact that he looked extremely handsome in his evening attire.

"Allow me to introduce you to my wife." Alex led John over to the sofa where Emma was seated.

"How do you do, your grace," John murmured politely, placing a swift kiss on the back of her hand.

"Oh, please, I cannot bear so much etiquette in my own home. Please do call me Emma. Alex has assured me that you are a special friend of his, so I don't think we need to be formal."

John smiled at Emma, deciding that Alex had been his usual lucky self when it came to claiming a bride. "Then you must call me John."

"And of course you already know Belle," Alex continued.

John turned to Belle and took her hand in his. A fierce heat traveled up her arm, but she forced herself not to jerk her hand back. He didn't need to know how he affected her. But when he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her softly, she wasn't able to control the blush that stole across her cheeks.

"It is indeed a pleasure to see you again, Lady Arabella," he said, still holding her hand in his.

"Pl-please call me Belle," she stammered, hating herself for her loss of composure.

John finally released her hand and smiled. "I brought you a gift." He held out a box tied with a ribbon.

"Why, thank you." Curious, Belle untied the bow and lifted the lid. Inside she found her slightly muddied boot. She stifled a laugh as she lifted it out of the box. "I had a blister," she explained, turning to Alex and Emma. "It was really quite painful, and I took off my boot…" Her voice trailed off.

John turned to Emma. "I would have brought one for you, too, but you don't seem to have left any shoes on my property recently."

Emma grinned and reached down toward her feet. "I shall rectify that matter immediately."

John found himself liking Alex's duchess immensely. It was easy and painless to like her, he supposed. Unlike her cousin, she didn't cause his heart to race and his breathing to stop every time he saw her.

"Perhaps I could simply give you one of my slippers now," Emma added, "and then you could give it back to me next time you dine with us."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Of course, Blackwood," Alex put in. "You are always welcome here."

The foursome exchanged pleasantries for a quarter of an hour, awaiting the call to dinner. Belle sat quietly, surreptitiously studying John, pondering why he would do something as sweet as wrapping her boot up as a present after he acted so rudely that afternoon. How was she supposed to react? Did he want to be her friend again? She kept a weak smile pasted to her face, silently cursing him for setting her into such confusion.

John's thoughts were similarly occupied, wondering how on earth Belle would react to him that evening. She couldn't possibly understand all of the reasons he needed to keep his distance, and Lord knew he couldn't explain it to her. Rape, was not, after all, an acceptable topic for polite conversation.

When dinner was ready, Emma whispered something into Alex's ear and then he rose and took her arm. "You'll excuse me if I defy convention and take my wife in to dinner," he said, smiling rakishly. "Belle, we'll be in the less formal dining room. Emma thought it would be more comfortable."

John stood and offered his hand to Belle as the other couple swept out of the room. "They seem to have left us quite alone."

"I imagine they did that on purpose."




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