Dancing At Midnight

to have metamorphosed from an ill owl to an agitated ferret. 'Try to think of it this way,' Belle offered hopefully. 'The aim of all young ladies is to get married, or so we're told. Correct?'

Persephone nodded, but she looked dubious.

'I'm getting married. Therefore I have achieved a noble goal, and this reflects well on you, as my chaperone and companion.' Belle smiled weakly, unable to think of the last time she had uttered such complete nonsense.

Persephone shot her a look which seemed to say, 'Oh, really?' in the most sarcastic of tones.

'All right,' Belle gave in. 'It's an uncommon situation, I admit. And people will probably talk about it for weeks. We've simply got to make the best of it. And besides all that, I'm happy.'

Persephone's lips curved into a romantic half-smile. 'Then that's all that matters.'

***

Belle was certain that she would never be able to sleep that night, but she awoke the next morning feeling rather refreshed. John had come by again the day before to tell her that he had found a priest who would marry them at seven o'clock the following evening. Belle had smiled, insisted that he keep her footmen for the rest of the day, and then politely pushed him out of the house. She had things to do.

Determined not to have a completely untradi-tional wedding, she arranged to have dozens of flowers sent to her house and then dragged Persephone out shopping for a dress. Needless to say, they brought along several male servants as escorts. Belle did not like to think of herself as panicky, but then again, she had no wish to be dragged off into another filthy alleyway.

Madame Lambert shrieked at the idea of producing a wedding dress on such short notice but nonetheless managed to provide Belle with an extremely flattering green silk gown which needed only minor alterations. The dress was simply cut, with the skirt falling gracefully to the floor from a high empire waistline. The neckline left her shoulders slightly bared and was adorned by layers of gauzy white material. The dress was more appropriate for warmer weather, but Belle decided that under the circumstances she really couldn't complain.

The rest of the day passed with surprising slowness. Belle had always thought of weddings as requiring mountains of preparations but quickly found that these mountains melted away when one's marriage was to be performed in one's home with less than a half dozen guests.

And now it was the day of her marriage, and she had absolutely nothing to do except sit around and be nervous. She'd feel better when Emma arrived, she decided. What she needed was some female company. Persephone was lovely, but she'd never been married and wasn't much help. She'd tried to have a 'little talk' with Belle the night before, but it soon became painfully apparent that she had far less to 'talk' about than Belle did. And Belle was quite determined to keep her mouth shut.

The conversation disintegrated rather quickly.

Unfortunately, Emma seemed to be taking her own sweet time in getting to London. Belle wandered aimlessly about the house all day, quite unable to concentrate on anything. She nibbled at breakfast, picked at her lunch, and then finally settled into a window seat in her mother's drawing room and stared out at the street.

Persephone came by and poked her head into the room. 'Is everything all right, dear?'

Belle didn't turn around. For some inexplicable reason, her gaze was completely fixed on a small black dog yapping along the sidewalk. 'I'm fine. Just thinking.'

'Are you certain? You look a bit… strange.'

Belle tore her eyes off of the cityscape and turned to face Persephone. 'I'm fine, really. I just haven't anything to do, that's all. And if I did, I doubt I'd be able to concentrate on it.'

Persephone smiled and nodded. Wedding jitters. She left the room.

Belle turned back to the window. The dog had departed the scene, so she decided to watch the leaves on the tree across the way. How many would fall off in such a strong wind?

Good God, when had she grown so melodramatic? She now knew why people made such a fuss about weddings. It was to keep the bride's mind occupied, lest she fall into strange mental chasms.

Strange mental chasms? Where had that come from? Now she knew she was really in trouble. She went back to her bedroom, laid herself down on her bed, and by sheer force of will made herself go to sleep.

She only realized that she'd drifted off when Persephone began to shake her by her shoulders. 'My heavens, girl,' she was saying. 'I cannot believe you've been napping on your wedding day.'

Belle rubbed her eyes, marveling that she had actually been able to force herself to sleep. 'There seemed naught better to do,' she said groggily.

'Well, Lord Blackwood's downstairs with the Reverend Mr. Dawes, and he's looking rather anxious to get on with the proceedings.'

'What time is it?' Belle asked, coming awake rather quickly.

'Half past six in the evening.'

Good Lord, how long had she been asleep? 'Have any of my relatives arrived yet?' All three of them, Belle thought ruefully.

'No, but I hear that the roads out of town have been muddy of late.'

Belle sighed. 'Well, I suppose we can't wait all night for them. Please tell Lord Blackwood that I'll be down just as soon as I can. Oh, and if you don't mind, don't tell him that I was sleeping.'

Persephone nodded and left the room.

Belle got to her feet and crossed over to her dressing room where her slightly too casual wedding dress was hanging. She supposed she ought to ring for her maid to help her dress. She'd always dreamed that she'd have her mother and Emma and perhaps a few friends with her to help her into her wedding gown. They would be laughing and joking and giggling over every little thing. It would be a grand affair, and she would feel like a queen. But there was no one. She was alone.

Alone on her wedding day. What a depressing thought.

Her thoughts strayed to John, who was undoubtedly waiting impatiently downstairs. She could see him in her mind's eye, pacing in the drawing room, his gait punctuated by the limp which had become so dear to her. Her lips tilted up into a smile. She wasn't alone. And she never would be.

She had just reached for the dress when she heard a commotion in the hallway. Her head swiv-eled instinctively toward the door as it burst open. Emma quite literally flew into the room.

'Good God, cousin!' she burst out, gasping for breath. Belle had no doubt that she'd taken the steps two at a time coming up the stairs. 'Do you think you might have given me a little notice?'

'It was all somewhat sudden,' Belle hedged.

'I suspect that that is something of an understatement.'

Their attention was distracted by an even louder commotion in the hall.

'Oh dear,' Emma muttered. 'That would be Alex.'

The man in question nearly kicked the door in.

'It certainly would,' Belle returned dryly.

Alex's chest was heaving with exertion. Belle rather thought he'd taken the steps three at a time. He fixed his deadly green gaze on his wife, who had the grace to look at least a little uncomfortable.

'If I ever see you jump out of a carriage like that again, so help me God, I'm going to strangle you.'

Emma chose the path of least resistance and avoided talking to her husband altogether. 'He's a little overprotective due to my delicate condition,' she said to Belle.

'Emma…' he said warningly.

John chose that moment to appear in the doorway. 'What the hell is going on here?'

Belle shrieked, threw her arms up in the air, and ran into her dressing room. 'You can't see me!' she yelled.

'Oh for God's sake, Belle. This isn't exactly a normal wedding.'

'It's going to be as normal as I want it. So get out. I'll see you downstairs.' Her voice was muffled, emerging through several layers of fabric and a rather thick wooden door.

Alex rolled his eyes and muttered, 'Women,' which caused his wife to glare at him most vigorously. 'I need a drink.' He stalked out of the room. John followed without a backward glance.