Dancing At Midnight

Persephone's response was a horizontal swing which clipped him neatly in the middle. The breath knocked out of him, he fell to the ground.

The other thug was caught between utter panic and sheer greed, lusting after the money he'd been promised if he captured the yellow-haired lady. He gave it one last desperate try, barely aware that a number of people had rushed into the alleyway upon hearing Persephone's cries of distress.

'I said let go of her!' Persephone boomed. She changed her attack tactics and started viciously poking him with the end of her parasol. When she stabbed him neatly in the groin, he finally let go of Belle and ran away, painfully hunched over the entire way.

'Persephone, thank you so much,' Belle said, tears of terror belatedly forming in her eyes.

But Persephone wasn't listening. All of her attention was focused on the man still lying on the ground. He made a motion as if to get up, but she jabbed him in the belly. 'Not so fast, mister,' she said.

Belle's eyes widened. Who would have dreamed that dear old Persephone would have such a tough streak?

The villain saw the growing crowd of people forming around him and closed his eyes, surmising that escape was impossible. Much to Belle's relief, a constable quickly arrived on the scene, and she relayed her story to him. He started to question her attacker, but the man remained closemouthed. That is, until the constable reminded him of the possible punishments for attacking a lady of Belle's position.

The man sang like a canary.

He'd been hired to grab her. Yes, just her. No, not any pretty blond lady, this one in particular. The gentleman who had hired him spoke with uppity accents-definitely highborn. No, he didn't know his name, and he hadn't seen him before, but he had straight blond hair and blue eyes, if that helped any, and his arm was in a sling.

After finishing the interrogation, the constable hauled him away and told Belle to be extra careful. Maybe she ought to hire one of those Bow Street Runners for added protection.

Belle shivered with fear. She had an enemy. One who probably wanted her dead.

As the crowd began to disperse, Persephone turned to her and asked solicitously, 'Are you all right, dear?'

'Yes, yes,' Belle replied. 'I'm fine.' Her eyes strayed down to her arm where that awful man had grabbed her. There had been a dress and a coat between her skin and his, but still she felt dirty. 'I think, however, I'd like a bath.'

Persephone nodded. 'I couldn't agree with you more.'

Late the next morning a footman brought Belle a reply from Emma.

Dearest Belle,

I cannot imagine why you suddenly want to learn how to climb trees since you never professed

any love for it when we were small. The first step is to find a tree with some reasonably low

branches. If you cannot reach the first branch, you'll never get anywhere…

The letter continued for two pages. Emma was nothing if not detailed. She was also a little suspicious, as the end of the letter showed.

I hope you find this helpful, although I must say I wonder where you are going to climb trees in London. I profess that I think this has something to do with John Blackwood. Love does strange things to women, as I well know. Be careful, whatever you do, and I can only breathe a sigh of relief that I am no longer your chaperone. God save Persephone.

Fondly,

Emma

Belle scoffed. If Emma were still her chaperone, she'd probably insist upon going along with her. Emma had never been known for prudent behavior.

Belle reread the letter, carefully going over the part about how to climb trees. Was she really going to do this? When she'd stopped outside of Damien's house and assessed that tree, she hadn't really thought that she would do anything about it. She wasn't the sort of daring female who would climb a tree and break into an earl's house through a third-story window. For one thing, she had no head for heights.

But, as Emma so wisely pointed out, love did strange things to a woman. That, and danger. Her nasty experience with those two thugs in the alleyway had convinced her that it was time to act decisively.

Or perhaps rashly was a better word for it.

Belle shook her head. No matter. She'd made up her mind. She was scared, and she needed John.

But those thugs did complicate her plans a bit. She couldn't very well go over to Damien's house in the middle of the night by herself when someone was out to kidnap her. And Mary, of course, would not be sufficient protection. Persephone and her perilous parasol were another story, but Belle doubted that Persephone would agree to go with her. She might be rather lenient as far as chaper-ones went, but she would certainly put her foot down at Belle breaking into a man's room.

What to do, what to do?

Belle smiled mischievously.

She picked up a quill and wrote a note to Dunford.

***

'Absolutely not!'

'Don't be stodgy, Dunford,' Belle said. 'I need your help.'

'You don't need help, you need a harness. And I'm not being stodgy, I'm being a sensible. A word of which you appear to have forgotten the mean-ing.

Belle stubbornly crossed her arms and sank back into her chair. Dunford was up and pacing, his arms flying as he spoke. She'd never seen him so out of sorts.

'This is a damn fool thing you're thinking of, Belle. If you don't break your neck-and that's a pretty big If, considering that all of your tree-climbing experience can be located in a letter from your cousin-you'll probably be arrested for trespassing.'

'I won't be arrested.'

'Oh, really? And how do you know that you'll just happen to tumble into the correct room? With your luck you'll end up in the earl's bedroom. And I've been watching him watching you. I think he'd appreciate his good fortune.'

'He would not. He knows I'm interested in his brother. And I'm not going to 'tumble into his bedroom' as you so delicately put it. I know which room is John's.'

'I'm not even going to ask how you know that.'

It was on the tip of Belle's tongue to defend her reputation, but she kept silent instead. If Dunford thought that she'd already been in John's bedroom he might be less reluctant to help her get there again.

'Look, Belle, my answer is still no. Absolutely not! With three exclamation points,' he added.

'If you were my friend…' Belle muttered.

'Exactly. I am your friend for not letting you do this. An amazingly good friend. There is nothing you could say that will make me help you.'

Belle rose. 'Well, thank you, then, Dunford. I had hoped for your assistance, but I see that I'm just going to have to go about this alone.'

Dunford groaned. 'Except that. Belle, you really wouldn't go over there by yourself.'

'I don't have any choice. My need to see him is most urgent, and he won't receive me. I suppose I'll hire a hack to take me the short distance from here to there so I won't have to walk alone so late at night, but-'

'All right, all right,' Dunford conceded with an exasperated expression. 'I'll help you, but I want you to know that I completely disapprove.'

'Don't worry, you've made that quite clear.'

Dunford sank into a chair and his eyes closed in mental agony. 'God help us,' he groaned. 'God help us all.'

Belle smiled. 'Oh, I think He will.'