John couldn't help himself. He started to laugh.


***

Later that evening, while the Blackwood brothers were on their way home, Damien brought up the subject of Belle's now obvious friendship with John. "I did not realize that you and Lady Arabella knew each other so well," he said with a frown.

One side of John's mouth twisted up in a wry smile. "She said we were well acquainted, didn't she?"

"Her passionate defense of your position would indicate that you are quite well acquainted."

"Well, we are quite."

Damien let the matter drop for a few minutes, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. "Do you intend to court her?"

"I have already said as much to the lady in question."

"I see."

John sighed. He was behaving rather sharply with his brother, and Damien really didn't deserve it. "I apologize if this puts a crimp in your plans. I assure you I did not know that you had tender feelings for Belle before I arrived. If you must know, she was the reason I came to town in the first place."

Damien pondered that slowly. "I wouldn't say I have tenderfeelings for her. I merely thought she would make me a good wife."

John looked at him oddly. He wondered if his brother's emotions ever ventured beyond appreciation or mild dislike.

"It is obvious, however," Damien continued, "that we would not suit at all. She is a great beauty, to be sure, but I cannot have a wife who spouts out such radical notions in public."

John's lips twitched. "Surely you, too, don't begrudge me my title."

"Of course not." Damien appeared affronted by the accusation. "You earned that title. And our father was, of course, an earl. But you must admit, too many cits are making their way into the aristocracy, whether by purchase or marriage. Lord only knows what's to become of us."

"Belle likes to read," John blurted out, just to make absolutely sure that his brother's interest in her would not resurface. "She's read the complete works of Shakespeare."

Damien shook his head. "I cannot imagine what I was thinking. Bluestockings can be such a nuisance, no matter how beautiful. They're so demanding."

John smiled.

"She wouldn't do, at all," Damien continued. "But you should try for her if you want. She'd be a great catch for a man of your position. Although I must warn you, her parents probably wouldn't approve of the match. I should think she could get a duke if she wanted."

"I imagine she could," John murmured. "If, of course, that was what she wanted."

The carriage came to a halt in front of Damien's town house. When they entered the main hall, Lightbody greeted them with a note which he said had been left expressly for Lord Blackwood. Curious, John unfolded the paper.

I am in London.

John frowned as he remembered the two similar messages he'd received a few weeks earlier. He'd thought that they had been meant for Bletchford Manor's previous owners, but now he realized that he was mistaken.

"Someone you know?" Damien inquired.

"I'm not sure," John replied slowly. "I'm not sure at all."

Chapter 12

John arrived at Belle's house the next morning, arms laden with chocolates and flowers. It amazed him how easy this was-to simply allow her to lighten his heart. He'd been smiling all morning.

Belle was unable to keep the delight from her eyes when she came downstairs to greet him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" she asked with a bright smile.

"I said I was going to court you, didn't I?" John responded, thrusting the flowers into her arms. "Consider yourself courted."

"How romantic," she said, not without a twinge of sarcasm.

"I hope you like chocolates."

Belle suppressed a smile. He was trying very hard. "I love them."

"Excellent." He shot her a jaunty grin. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all."

Persephone chose that moment to sail down the stairs. "Good morning, Belle," she said. "Won't you introduce me to your guest?"

Belle did the honors, and while John was deciding which chocolate to pop in his mouth, Persephone leaned over and whispered, "He's very handsome."

Belle nodded.

"And he looks quite virile."

Belle's eyes widened. "Persephone," she whispered. "I feel I must inform you that this is not the normal type of conversation between a chaperone and her charge."

"Is it not? It ought to be, I think. Ah well, I fear I will never get this chaperoning business right. Pray do not tell Alex of my shortcomings."

"I like you just the way you are," Belle said honestly.

"Isn't that sweet of you, dear? Well, I'm off. The coachman has promised to take me on a tour of London, and I want to make sure we get to all the dangerous parts before dark."

Considering that it wasn't yet noon, Belle could only wonder as to the length of Persephone's route, but she didn't say a word as the older lady fluttered out the door.

"Not exactly the sternest of chaperones," John commented.

"No."

"Shall we retire to a parlor? I'm desperate to kiss you, and I'd rather not do it in the hall."

Belle blushed but led the way to a nearby drawing room.

John kicked the door shut and hauled her into his arms. "Chaperone-less for the entire day," he murmured between kisses. "Was ever a man so blessed?"

"Was ever a woman so blessed?" Belle countered.

"I think not. Come over here to the sofa so I can ply you with chocolates and flowers." He took her hand and pulled her along with him as he crossed the room.

Belle giggled softly as she let him lead her to the sofa. She had never seen him so lighthearted, so carefree. There was still a thin veil of sadness and hesitation in his eyes, but it was nothing compared to the haunted look she'd seen back in Oxfordshire. "The only person you're plying with those chocolates is yourself. You've already had three."

John sat and pulled her down next to him. "There is no point in bringing a lady an edible gift unless you like it, too. Here, have one. They're quite good." He picked up a sweet and held it in front of her mouth.

Belle smiled and bit away half of it, licking her lips with deliberate seductiveness as she chewed. "It's exquisite," she murmured.

"Yes, it is." He wasn't talking about chocolate.

Belle leaned forward for the rest of the candy and took it in her mouth, daringly licking his fingers as she did so. "A little bit melted on your skin," she said innocently.

"A little bit melted on your skin, too." He moved toward her and licked the corner of her mouth, sending shivers of desire right to the tips of her toes. Leaning forward, he ran his tongue along the soft edge of her upper lip. "I missed a bit here," he murmured. "And here." He moved to her lower lip, which he teased between his teeth.

Belle had quite forgotten how to breathe. "I think I like being courted," she whispered.

"Haven't you ever been before?" John took a little nip of her ear.

"Not like this."

"Good." He smiled possessively.

Belle arched her neck as he ran his lips along her tender skin. "I hope you haven't conducted any other courtships with this particular brand of, er, persuasion."

"Never," he promised.

"Good." Belle's smile was equally possessive. "But you know," she said, taking a quick gasp of air as his hand stole around and cupped her breast. "There is more to courting than flowers and chocolate."

"Mmm-hmm. There is kissing." He squeezed her breast through her dress, causing Belle to squeal with wonder.

"Of course," Belle sighed. "I wasn't forgetting that."

"I'll do my best to keep that at the forefront of your mind." John was busy figuring out the best way to free one of her perfect little breasts from the confines of her attire.

"That's fine. But you must remember, I won't let you forget that you owe me a poem."

"You're a stubborn wench, aren't you?" John finally decided that the best course of action was simply to push the dress down and thank God that the fashions of the day did not require endless streams of buttons.

"Not particularly." Belle laughed softly. "But I still want that poem."

John momentarily diverted her attention by carrying out his plans. He smiled and moaned with pure masculine pleasure as he looked down on her dusky nipple, puckered with desire. He licked his lips.

"John-you're not going to…?"

He nodded and did.

Belle felt all her limbs go weak, and she melted into the sofa, pulling John along with her. He worshipped her breast for a full minute and then moved on to the other one. Belle was helpless against his sensual onslaught and couldn't control the soft cries of desire escaping through her lips. "Say something," she finally moaned.

"Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?" he quoted. "Thou art-"

"Oh, please, John," Belle said, pulling his head off of her breast so that she could look into his laughing brown eyes. "If you're going to plagiarize, at least have the sense not to choose something so famous."

"If you don't stop talking this instant, Belle, I shall be moved to drastic action."

"Drastic action? Now that sounds interesting." She pulled his mouth back down onto hers and kissed him eagerly.

Just then they heard an agonizingly familiar voice coming from the hallway.

"What a ninny I am to forget a warm pair of gloves," Persephone said. "It's so nippy out."

Belle and John jumped away from each other instantly. When Belle was not hasty enough in righting her appearance, John took charge of the situation and yanked her dress back up, practically to her chin. As they frantically tried to remedy their mussed appearances, they heard the soft murmur of another voice, probably that of the servant to whom Persephone had been speaking.