Belle nodded and called over to Persephone that she was going to the back room for just a moment. She followed Madame Lambert, who led her to a closet door. "Eef you want to attract a man without appearing vulgar," the dressmaker said, "then zees is what you need." With a flourish, she pulled out a gown of midnight blue velvet which was startling in its simplicity. Free of adornment, it let its elegant cut show its style.
Belle fingered the soft velvet, admiring the way the bodice was shot through with silver thread. "It's lovely," she said. "But it isn't very different from what I already own."
"From zee front, eet ees just like the rest, but from zee back…" Madame Lambert turned the dress around, and Belle realized that most of her back would be revealed. "You will need to wear your hair up," Madame continued, "so you will not obscure zee effect."
Belle reluctantly tore her gaze from the gown and looked at the dressmaker. "I'll take it."
***
John made excellent time to London, especially considering that he hadn't given Wheatley much notice. The efficient valet had packed up his clothing with remarkable speed. John hoped that it would not take long to win back Belle's favor, for he doubted that he had enough elegant clothing to last much more than a fortnight. He had always been a stickler for quality, but quality was expensive, and as a result he didn't have much of it.
He took a deep breath as he climbed the steps to his older brother's town house. He hadn't seen Damien for years, although he had received a brief congratulatory note on his being raised to the peerage. Damien would probably not be thrilled to see him, but one couldn't very well turn out one's own brother, could one? And besides, John didn't have any other options. He certainly didn't have time to find a suitable residence to rent. For all he knew, Belle could be engaged already.
Taking a deep breath, he picked up the heavy brass knocker and let it slam down against the door. A butler appeared almost instantly.
"Is the earl available?" John inquired politely.
"Who may I say is calling?"
John handed him a crisp white calling card. The butler took note of his last name and raised an eyebrow.
"His brother," John said simply.
The butler ushered John into a spacious sitting room off of the main hallway. A few minutes later Damien entered the room, surprise evident on his face. As always, John was struck by the family resemblance between them. Damien was an older and slightly softer version of himself and did not look his thirty-nine years. He had always been quite handsome, classically so, whereas John's face was a bit too lean and angular to fit the guidelines of aristocratic elegance.
"It's been an age," Damien finally said, holding out his hand. "What brings you to town?"
John took his brother's hand and shook it in a firm grasp. "I have urgent business in London, and I fear I did not have time to procure lodgings ahead of time. I was hoping that I could impose upon your hospitality while I conduct my affairs."
"Of course."
John had known Damien would agree. He doubted that his brother was enthusiastic, or even remotely pleased about the request, but Damien had always placed great stock in good manners and breeding and certainly would not refuse hospitality to his own brother. As long, of course, as his brother did not abuse this privilege.
"I thank you," John replied. "I assure you that should it become apparent that my business cannot be completed in a fortnight, I shall look elsewhere for lodgings immediately."
Damien graciously inclined his head. "Have you brought anyone with you?"
"Just my valet."
"Excellent, then I may assume that you have brought evening clothes?"
"Yes."
"Good. I have been invited to a small party this evening, and the hostess sent me a note not an hour ago asking if I might bring an extra man. Someone has gone ill, it seems, and now she has too many women."
The thought of going out in society did not appeal to John in the least, but he agreed because he might ascertain just who Belle was thinking about marrying.
"Excellent," Damien replied. "I shall send a note round to Lady Forthright immediately. Oh, and you shall be able to meet the woman I am thinking of courting. It is high time I got myself a wife, you know. I really do need an heir."
"Of course," John murmured.
"I think she is an excellent choice, although I do need to interview her further. Good breeding and quite lovely. Intelligent, but not ingratiatingly so."
"She sounds a paragon."
Damien turned to him quite suddenly. "Perhaps you know her. She recently spent a month or so visiting relatives out near your new home. What is it called? I can't remember."
John felt an evil, sick sensation form in the pit of his stomach and then spread rapidly to his every extremity. "It's called Bletchford Manor," he said coldly.
"Terrible name. You really must change it."
"I intend to. You were about to say…"
"Oh yes. Her name is Lady Arabella Blydon."
Chapter 11
John felt as if he'd been hit. The air grew stifling, and Damien's face took on an undeservedly sinister expression. "I am familiar with Lady Arabella," he finally managed to get out. He took bittersweet pleasure in the fact that his voice sounded almost normal.
"How nice," Damien said mildly. "She'll be at the party this evening."
"I shall be pleased to renew her acquaintance."
"Good. I shall let you get settled in. Lightbody here will show you to your room. I'll stop by later to fill you in on this evening's details." Damien smiled blandly and left the room.