her hands and knees, she crawled across the room to her dressing table. With a quick glance to the window, she grabbed a pewter candlestick from Boston that Emma had given her as a birthday present a few years earlier.
Remaining close to the ground, Belle scooted over to the window. Careful to stay out of the intruder's line of vision, she climbed up onto a chair which was placed against the wall right next to the window. Shaking with fear, she waited.
The window creaked and then she saw it start to rise. A black gloved hand appeared on the windowsill.
Belle stopped breathing.
A second hand found its place next to the first, and then a firm body tumbled in soundlessly, somersaulting when it hit the floor.
Belle raised the candlestick, setting her aim for the prowler's head when he suddenly turned and looked up at her.
'Good God, woman! Are you trying to kill me?'
'John?'
Chapter 13
'What are you doing here?' Belle gasped. 'Would you put that thing down!'
Belle finally lowered the candlestick and offered John her hand. He took it and got to his feet. 'What are you doing here?' she repeated, her heart starting to flutter strangely at the sight of him in her bedroom.
'Isn't it obvious?'
Well, he might be here to kidnap her and spirit her away to Gretna Green, or he might be here to ravish her, or he might just be here to say hello. 'No,' she said slowly. 'It isn't obvious.'
'Do you realize that in the past week I have seen you four times with Persephone, twice with my brother, once with your chum Dunford, and thrice at social functions where I'm allowed to talk with you only in the presence of women over the age of sixty?'
Belle bit back a smile. 'We've had some time together here when you've come to call.'
'I don't count it as being alone when I must worry about Miss Lemon Tree barging in at any moment.'
His expression was so petulant that Belle had a vision of him as an eight-year-old stamping his foot at some horrid injustice. 'Now, now,' she chuckled. 'Persephone's not that bad.'
'She's supreme as far as chaperones go, but that doesn't eliminate the fact that she's got bloody repellent timing. I'm damned near afraid to kiss you half the time.'
'I hadn't noticed any decline in the frequency of your attempts.'
John shot her a look which said he did not entirely appreciate her humor. 'All I'm saying is that I'm damned sick and tired of sharing you.'
'Oh.' Belle thought that was just about the sweetest thing she had ever heard.
'I just climbed up a tree, shimmied along an unsteady branch, and then vaulted through a window at an extremely unsafe height. All, might I add, with a bum leg,' John said, pulling off his gloves and brushing himself off. 'Just to be alone with you.'
Belle swallowed as she stared at him, dimly registering the fact that he had actually referred to his injury without bitterness or despair.
'You wanted a romantic proposal,' he continued. 'Believe me, I'm never going to get more romantic than this.' Out of his pocket he pulled a crumpled, red rose.
'Will you marry me?'
Overcome with emotion, Belle blinked away the tears pooling in her eyes. She opened her mouth but no words came out.
John stepped forward and took both of her hands in his. 'Please,' he said, and that single word held such promise that Belle started nodding furiously.
'Yes, oh yes!' She threw herself in his arms and buried her face in his chest.
John held her tightly for several minutes, savoring the feel of her warm body next to his. 'I should have asked you so long ago,' he murmured into her hair. 'Back at Westonbirt. I tried so hard to push you away.'
'But why?'
His throat tightened.
'John, are you ill? You look as if you've eaten something that's gone off.'
'No, Belle, I-' He fought for words. He wouldn't deceive her. He wouldn't enter into a marriage based upon lies. 'When I told you that I wasn't the man you thought I was-'
'I remember,' she interrupted. 'And I still don't understand what you mean. I-'
'Hush.' He placed his finger on her lips. 'There is something in my past I must tell you about. It was during the war.'
Wordlessly, she took his hand and led him to her bed. She sat and motioned him to do likewise, but he was far too restless.
He turned abruptly and strode over to the window, bracing himself against the sill. 'A girl was raped,' he blurted out, thankful that he couldn't see her expression. 'It was my fault.'
Belle paled. 'Wh-what do you mean?'
John recounted the details, finishing with, 'That's how it happened. At least that's how I remember it. I was drunk.' He let out a short, hollow laugh.
'John, it wasn't your fault.' Her words were soft, but they were filled with love and faith.
He didn't turn around. 'You weren't there.'
'I know you. You wouldn't have let something like this happen if you could have prevented it.'
He whirled to face her. 'Weren't you listening to me? I was drunk. If I'd had my wits about me I would have been able to fulfil my promise to Ana's mother.'
'He would have found a way to get to her. You couldn't have guarded the girl every minute of the day.'
'I could have- I-' He broke off. 'I don't want to talk about it.'
Belle stood and crossed the room, placing a gentle hand on his arm. 'Perhaps you should.'
'No,' he said quickly. 'I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I-' He choked on his words. 'Will you still have me?'
'How can you even ask?' she whispered. 'I lo-' She stopped, too scared of upsetting the precious balance they'd achieved to voice her true feelings. 'I care for you so much. I know what a good and honorable man you are, even if you don't.'
He reached for her, pulling her roughly into his arms. He clung to her, covering her face with kisses. 'Oh, Belle, I need you so much. I don't know how I survived without you.'
'And I you.'
'You are such a treasure, Belle. Such a gift to me.' He suddenly whirled her around, spinning her in a dazzling waltz. They twirled about, turning circle after circle until they both collapsed on the bed, laughing and out of breath.
'Look at me,' John gasped. 'I cannot remember the last time I allowed myself to be so happy. I smile all day long without knowing why. I climbed a bloody tree, vaulted through your window, and here I am-laughing.' He jumped to his feet, pulling her along with him. 'It's the middle of the night, and yet here I am with you. Dancing at midnight, holding perfection in my arms.'
'Oh, John,' she sighed, unable to think of any words to express her feelings.
He touched her chin with his fingers and drew her closer, ever closer.
Belle's breath caught in her throat as his lips swooped down to claim her own. The kiss was different than any other they had shared. There was a fierceness to it that hadn't been there before, a sense of ownership. And Belle had to admit that this possessiveness was not one-sided. The way she kissed him with all her passion, clutched at the sinewy muscles of his back-all this was meant to show him that he belonged to no one but her.
John's hands roamed down her back, spreading warmth through the thin material of her nightgown. He strayed down to her bottom and cupped it, pulling her tightly to him so that she could feel the hard, physical evidence of his desire. 'Do you realize how much I want you?' he rasped. 'Do you?'
