"I know, love. I'm going to get you home." John's relief at finding her quickly turned to fear when he lifted her into his arms and felt her violent shivers. Dear God, she had been out in this freezing rain for at least an hour, and her heavy riding habit was now soaked.

"I was-I was trying to cr-crawl home," Belle managed to get out. "I'm so cold."

"I know, I know," he crooned. Hell, why had she been crawling? But John didn't have time to ponder these questions. Belle's lips were turning a dangerous shade of blue, and he knew that he had to get her warmed up immediately. "Can you sit in the saddle, love?" he asked, seating her atop the horse.

"I don't know. I'm so cold."

Belle started to slide out of the saddle as John was mounting and he had to push her back up. "Just hang on to Thor's neck until I'm up there with you. I promise I'll hold you steady the whole way home."

Teeth clattering, Belle nodded, holding on to the stallion with all her might. In no time, John was seated behind her, his strong arm wrapped fiercely around her waist. Belle sagged into him and closed her eyes. "I c-can't st-stop shivering," she said weakly, feeling like a child who had to explain herself. "I'm so cold."

"I know you are, love."

Mary and the groom rode into sight. "Follow me back," John yelled. He didn't have time to fill them in on the details of Belle's condition. He kicked Thor into a full gallop, and they crashed through the trees.

Nestled firmly against John's torso, Belle slowly let go of the fierce will which had been propelling her before. She felt her mind slipping away from her body, and truth be told, she was so damned tired and cold and sore that she was glad to let it go. She went numb, strangely content now that her aches and pains were receding. "I'm not so cold anymore," she murmured in an eerie voice.

"Oh, Christ," John swore, hoping that he'd misheard her. He gave her a hard jostle. "Whatever you do, don't fall asleep. Do you hear me, Belle? Don't fall asleep!"When she didn't respond immediately, he gave her another shove.

Belle didn't even open her eyes. "But I'm so tired."

"I don't care," John said sternly. "You will remain awake. Do you understand me?"

It took Belle a few seconds to process his demand. "If you say so," she said finally.

For the rest of the ride, John alternated between spurring Thor on to keep him riding at top speed and shaking Belle to prevent her from falling asleep. He had to get her home and warmed up. He was terrified mat if she went to sleep she wouldn't have the energy to awaken.

After what seemed like hours, they emerged from the trees and picked up speed as they raced across the lawns of Hyde Park and then the streets of London. They came to a halt at the front steps of Blydon House. John quickly slid off the horse, taking Belle along with him. The groom who had been riding with Mary took hold of the reins and led Thor back to the mews. After barking out a quick thanks, John strode into the hall, cradling Belle in his arms.

"Thornton!" he yelled.

Within seconds the butler materialized before him.

"Have a warm bath prepared immediately. Set it in my room."

"Yes, my lord, right away my lord." Thornton turned to Mrs. Crane, the housekeeper who had followed him into the hall. Before he could say a word, she had nodded and hurried up the stairs.

John took the stairs as fast as he could, his good leg taking two stairs with each step. He raced down the hallway, cradling Belle gently against his chest. "We're almost there, love," he murmured. "I promise we'll get you warm."

Belle's head moved slightly. John hoped that she had heard him and was nodding, but he had the sinking feeling that her movement was merely due to his haste going up the stairs. When they reached his room, two maids were hurriedly filling up a tub. "We're heating the water as fast as we can, my lord," one said, hastily bobbing a curtsy.

John nodded curtly and laid Belle down on a towel which had been set atop his bed. Her hair fell back from her face, revealing an ugly purple bruise that stained her forehead. John felt the breath leave his body, and an unspeakable rage poured through him. Rage at what, he wasn't sure-most probably himself.

"John?" she asked weakly, her eyelids fluttering.

"I'm here, love. I'm here."

"I feel strange, very strange. I'm cold but I'm not. I think I'm-I think I'm-" Belle had been about to say the word "dying," but her last rational thought before she drifted into unconsciousness was that she didn't want to worry him.

John swore under his breath, noticing instantly when she slipped away from him. His numb but steady fingers quickly went to work on the frozen buttons of her riding habit. "Don't you leave me, Belle!" he shouted. "Do you hear me? You can't leave me now!"

Mrs. Crane bustled into the room, carrying two more buckets of steaming water. "My lord?" she questioned. "Are you sure you should? That is, perhaps a woman…"

He turned to her and said in extremely clipped tones, "She is my wife. I will care for her."

Mrs. Crane nodded stiffly and exited the room.

John turned his attention back to Belle's buttons. When he was finished, he pulled back the sides of the jacket and worked her arms out of the sleeves. Murmuring a quiet apology, he tore her camisole cleanly down the front. The way it was sticking to her body, it would have taken too long to peel it off. Besides, this way she could remain lying down. Mutely, he laid a hand down against her ribs. Her skin was pale and clammy. His fear renewed, John redoubled his efforts and pulled her out of her sodden skirts.

When she was naked in his arms, he carried her over to the steaming tub which was now nearly full. He knelt down and dipped his finger in the water. He frowned. It was a little too hot, but he wasn't sure he had the time to wait for it to cool off. Praying for the best, he lowered Belle into the tub. "There you are, love. I promised you I'd get you warm."

She didn't respond to the heat. "Wake up, Belle," he shouted at her, shaking her slim shoulders. "You cannot sleep until you're warm."

Belle mumbled something unintelligible and swatted him away with her hand.

John took her feistiness as a good sign but nonetheless thought that he ought to get her woken up. He shook her again, and then when that didn't work, he did the only thing he could think of. He dunked her head under the water.

Belle came up spluttering, and for a few moments there was a look of absolute clarity in her eyes. "What on earth?!" she yelled.

"Just warming you up, love," John said with a smile.

"Well, you're not doing a very good job of it. I'm freezing!"

"I'm working as fast as I can."

"The water hurts me."

"There's nothing I can do about that, I'm afraid. It'll sting a bit as it warms you up."

"It's too hot."

"No, love, you're too cold."

Belle grumbled tiredly like a child. Then she looked down, saw John's large hands rubbing gently against her bare skin, and fainted.

"Christ Almighty," John swore. She was a dead weight again, and if he left her for even one moment, she was sure to drown. "Thornton!" he yelled.

Thornton, who'd been hovering solicitously outside the closed door, appeared instantly. He caught one glance of the naked young noblewoman in the tub, gulped nervously, and turned his back. "Yes, sir?"

"Get someone to start a fire in here. It's as cold as a damned morgue."

"Yes, sir, I'll see to it myself, sir." Thornton went to work at the fireplace, scrupulously keeping his back to the tub.

After a few more minutes John was satisfied that the chill had been removed from Belle's skin, but he didn't doubt for a moment that she still felt icy from the inside out. He lifted her from the water, tenderly dried her skin with a towel, and laid her in his bed. He pulled the covers up over her, tucking her in as he would a child. After a few moments, however, she began to shiver again. John placed nis hand on her forehead. It was warm, but if he wasn't mistaken, it would be burning within the hour.

He sighed and sank into a chair. It was going to be a terrifyingly long night.


***

She was so, so cold. Why couldn't she get warm? Belle tossed and turned in the large bed, her body instinctively rubbing against the sheets to create heat.

This was awful. The pain had returned, and every muscle and joint in her body ached with it. And what was that strange clattering sound? Surely that couldn't be her teeth? And why was she so damned cold?

Gritting her teeth against the exertion, Belle forced herself to open her eyes. A fire was burning steadily in a fireplace. A fire. A fire would be warm. She pushed aside her covers and crawled down to the foot of the bed. Still too far away. With agonizing slowness, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She looked down at herself in confusion. Why wasn't she wearing any clothes? No matter, Belle decided, tossing the thought aside. She just had to concentrate on that fire.

She let her feet touch down on the floor, and immediately her legs wobbled beneath her. She tumbled down, landing on the carpet with a painful thud.

John, who had dozed off in the chair he had positioned at her bedside, came awake instantly. He gaw the empty bed and jumped to his feet. "Belle?" He looked around the room frantically. Where could she have possibly gone in her condition? And naked, to boot.

He heard a pained groan from the other side of the bed and hurried over. Belle was lying on the floor in a tangled heap. He leaned down and picked her up. "What on earth are you doing down there, love?"

"Fire," she rasped.

John looked at her blankly.