Dancing At Midnight

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.

The butler entered with quick and silent efficiency and informed John that his belongings had been removed to a guest chamber upstairs. Still in a daze, John followed the butler to his room, where he proceeded to lie on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and let fury take over his entire being.

His brother? His brother?He'd never dreamed that Belle had this kind of malicious streak. He willed himself to clear his mind of her; he was getting far too upset, and she obviously wasn't worth it.

He wasn't successful. Every time he managed to steer his thoughts to food or horses or anything neutral, a familiar blond head and bright smile intervened. Then the smile melted into a sneer as he watched her cavort off with his brother.

Damn that woman!

When it was time to get ready for the party, John dressed with exceptional care in evening clothes of stark black relieved only by the crisp whiteness of his shirt and cravat. He and his brother exchanged polite conversation in the carriage, but John was much too preoccupied by the thought of seeing Belle again to pay very much attention to Damien. He didn't fault his brother for falling for her; he was only too familiar with her charms. But he was furious with Belle for deliberately seeking out such a vicious revenge against him.

When they arrived at the Forthright mansion, John allowed the butler to relieve him of his great coat and immediately scanned the room for Belle. She was over by the corner, animatedly talking to a tall, handsome man with dark hair and eyes. She had certainly been busy in the two weeks since their last meeting, he thought bitterly. Damien's attention was immediately captured by a friend of his, and since their hostess was nowhere to be found, John managed to avoid long, belabored introductions. He made his way over to Belle, willing himself to keep his raging anger in check. When he was just behind her, he said, 'Good evening, Lady Arabella,' not quite trusting himself to say anything more.

Belle whirled around, so excited to see him that she missed the coldness in his voice. 'John!' she said breathlessly, her eyes lighting up with unconcealed happiness. 'What a surprise.' He had come. He had come. Relief and joy washed over her, then were replaced by irritation. Damn, she hadn't worn that daring blue dress. She'd never dreamed he'd arrive in London so quickly.

'Is it?'

Belle blinked. 'Excuse me?'

'Perhaps you should introduce me to your friend.' John wanted nothing other than to speak to her alone, but he saw no way to ignore the man at her side.

'Oh, of course,' Belle said, stumbling on her words. 'Lord Blackwood, this is my good friend Mr. William Dunford.'

Dunford smiled at her in a manner that was much too familiar for John's taste. 'Didn't know you knew my first name, Belle,' he teased.

'Oh, hush, Dunford. Next time I'm going to call you Edward, just to be contrary.'

A fresh spurt of jealousy raced through John at Belle and Dunford's familiarity. Nevertheless, he automatically extended his hand. Dunford shook it, murmured a greeting and then politely excused himself. Once Dunford left, however, John allowed his true emotions to come to the surface.

Belle gasped and actually stepped back from the sheer fury she saw radiating from his eyes. 'John, what is wrong?'

'How could you, Belle?' he spat out. 'How could you?'

She blinked. She had expected jealousy, not this barely leashed rage. 'How could I what?'

'Don't play the innocent. It doesn't suit you.'

'What are you talking about?' Belle repeated, her voice growing nervous.

He only glared at her.

Then she remembered the lie that Emma had told him in order to get him to come to London. Maybe he thought that she and Dunford… 'Is this about Dunford?' she asked quickly. 'Because if it is, then there is nothing to worry about. He's quite an old friend of mine, but that is all. He's Alex's best friend, too.'

'This isn't about him,' John hissed. 'It's about my brother.'

'Who!'

'You heard me.'

'Your brother?'

John nodded curtly.

'I don't even know your brother.'

'If you keep up your lies, Belle, they're going to trip you up. And believe me, I'm not going to be around to catch you when you fall.'