Julia Quinn - Dancing At Midnight

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."

"Don't underestimate the power of love, my dear. Although in Duniord's case, perhaps only lust is necessary."

"You wound me," Dunford replied, placing his hand dramatically over his heart for emphasis. "Assuming I am incapable of the higher emotions."

"Aren't you?"

John, Alex, and Emma watched the interchange with considerable interest and amusement. "I had no idea you were such a formidable adversary, my dear," John said.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Belle scoffed. She sat back with a self-satisfied smile. "Just wait until the evening is through."

A queer feeling settled in John's stomach. "I'm dreading every moment of it."

"Merciful heavens!" came the hideous shriek. "What happened to you?"

Belle cringed. She'd forgotten about Lady Tumbley's distinctive voice, which was permanently lodged in the soprano register.

"A carriage accident," Alex said smoothly. "But we were so anxious to come tonight, we decided against turning back and changing. We're just a bit rumpled. I hope you'll forgive us."

Back in the carriage, it had been decided that Alex, as the highest ranking member of their group, should act as their spokesperson. His speech, which was accompanied by his most debonair smile, did the trick, and Lady Tumbley was soon preening most unattractively.

"Well, of course J don't mind, your grace," she gushed. "I'm so honored that you accepted my invitation. It has been many years since we've seen you here."

Belle noticed that Alex's smile had grown tight. "A mistake I must rectify," he said.

Lady Tumbley started to bat her eyelashes, a gesture which did not suit a lady of her years and girth. When she finally stilled her eyelids, she looked straight at John and said, "And who have we here?"

Belle stepped forward. "My husband, my lady."

"Your what?"

Belle stepped back. The screech had returned.

John took Lady Tumbley's hand and kissed her knuckles. "John Blackwood at your service, my lady."

"But Lady Arabella, my dear, I mean, Lady Blackwood, I just, well, I hadn't heard you'd been married. When did this occur? And, er, was it a large wedding?"

In other words-why hadn't she been invited?

"It was quite small, Lady Tumbley," Belle said. "Two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago? An entire fortnight? And I hadn't heard?"

"It was in the Times ," John put in.

"Perhaps, but I… "

"Perhaps you ought to read the newspaper more often," Belle said sweetly.

"Perhaps I should. If you'll excuse me." Lady Tumbley smiled awkwardly, bobbed a curtsy, and darted into the crowds.

"Our first objective has been fulfilled," Belle announced. "Within five minutes everyone will know that, one, our crumpled appearance is due to a carriage mishap, and two, I have married a most mysterious man about whom no one knows anything."

"In other words, everyone will know we're here," John said. "Including Spencer."

"If he comes," Emma said thoughtfully. "I doubt he's been invited."

"Ifs easy enough to sneak into such a large party," Dunford said. "I've done it a few times myself."

Emma looked at him oddly before asking, "What do we do now?"

"I suppose we mingle," Belle replied. "But we ought to try to stay in close proximity of each other. One of us might need help."

Belle looked around. Lady Tumbley had outdone herself this year, and the party glittered with candles, jewels, and smiles. The ballroom was one of the most distinctive in London, with a second floor gallery ringing the room. Belle had always thought that the Tumbley children must have spent countless nights up there peeping down at the elegant lords and ladies below. Belle sighed to herself, praying that she and John would get through this evening without harm, so that their children might someday be able to behave similarly.

For the next hour and a half, the quintet played the roles of innocent partygoers. Belle and John had no dearth of well-wishers, most of whom didn't bother to hide their insatiable curiosity about John and their hasty marriage. Alex and Emma stood nearby, their mere presence signaling their approval of the match. But more importantly, they were able to keep an eye out for Spencer while John and Belle were busy making polite conversation. Dunford acted as a roving spy, darting around the ballroom and monitoring the entrances and exits.

After nearly two hours, Caroline, Henry, and Persephone finally arrived and made their way immediately to Belle and John. "You wouldn't believe what happened to us!" Caroline exclaimed.

"A carriage accident?" John deadpanned.

"How did you know?"

"You had a carriage accident?" Belle said, horrified.

"Well, it was nothing dangerous. The left rear wheel slipped off, and we tipped a bit to the side. A bit uncomfortable, but no one was hurt. We did, of course, have to return home to change, however, and as a result we are extremely late." Caroline blinked a few times as she took in her daughter's slightly rumpled gown. "I say, that dress wasn't meant to be crushed velvet, was it?"