the ballroom. John noticed that he was no longer looking at him; his gaze had shifted to Belle. Fury and fear raced through him, and his hand convulsively tightened around hers.
'Good evening, Lord Blackwood, Lady Blackwood,' Spencer said mockingly.
'What the hell do you want?' John snapped. It was taking all of his self-restraint not to jump Spencer right there and then and wrap his hands around his throat.
'Now, now, Blackwood, why so surly? I've just come to say hello to you and your lady wife. That is what one is supposed to do at these events, isn't it? Of course my memory might be playing tricks on me. It has been so long since I've been to a London ball. Been out of the country as you know, for an extended period of time.'
'Your point being?'
'It has been a long time since I have danced. I was hoping Lady Blackwood would do me the honor.'
John yanked Belle closer to him. 'Absolutely not.'
'That's for the lady to decide, don't you think?'
Belle swallowed, trying to work some moisture into her throat, which had suddenly gone quite dry. 'Your invitation is most kind, Mr. Spencer,' she managed to say. 'But I am afraid I have decided not to dance this evening.'
'Really? How odd.' Spencer's eyes glinted silvery-blue with malice.
'In deference to my husband,' Belle improvised. 'He does not dance, you know.'
'Oh yes, he's a cripple. I often forget that. But I don't think that should stop you from enjoying yourself.' He stepped forward and shoved a revolver against John's stomach, pushing it in and up to knock the wind from his body.
Belle looked down. Her stomach lurched with terror, and for a moment she thought she would be ill right then and there. The party was crowded, very crowded. No one would notice that one of the guests had just pulled a gun on another. If she screamed, Spencer would surely shoot John before anyone could wrestle the weapon from him. 'I- I would love to dance with you, Mr. Spencer,' she whispered.
'No, Belle,' John said in a low voice.
'My husband,' she tried to joke. 'He gets very jealous. Doesn't like me to dance with other men.'
'I'm sure he won't mind this one time.' Spencer pulled the gun back, took Belle's hand, and led her onto the dance floor. John stood rooted to the spot, just beginning to get his breath back. His hands balled into fists, but he couldn't feel his fingernails biting into his palms. All of his attention, all of his energy, all of his soul was focused on the two blond heads on the floor. Spencer wouldn't hurt her, he knew that. Not in the middle of a crowded ballroom, at least. If anything happened to Belle in front of so many witnesses, Spencer would never get the chance to eliminate his true target. And John knew that Spencer wanted him dead.
'What happened? Why is Belle dancing with him?'
John turned and saw Emma, her face creased with fear and worry. 'He pulled a gun on me, and asked Belle to dance.'
'Did anybody see?' Alex asked.
John shook his head.
'Damn. It would be better if we had a witness outside the family.' Alex grabbed Emma's hand. 'Come on, darling, we're dancing too.' With great speed and not so great grace, the Duke and Duchess of Ashbourne made their way onto the dance floor.
'What do you want?' Belle whispered, her feet automatically following the steps of the waltz.
Spencer flashed her a broad smile. 'Why, just the pleasure of your company, my lady. Is that so incredible to you?'
'Yes.'
'Perhaps I just wanted to make your acquaintance. After all, our lives have become, shall we say, entwined.'
Belle felt anger building up within her, faster than fear. 'I'd appreciate it if you would unentwine them.'
'Oh, I plan to do so, have no fear. This evening, if all goes well.'
Belle trod on his foot, then apologized prettily. She saw Alex and Emma dancing just behind Spencer, and she exhaled slowly, feeling much reassured by their presence.
'But I must admit,' Spencer continued. 'I am enjoying the look on your husband's face immensely. I don't think he enjoys the sight of you in my arms.'
'I imagine not.' Belle stamped on his foot, this time hard enough to cause Spencer to grimace.
'You seem like a nice enough chit,' he said, once again ignoring her misstep. 'I am sorry to inconvenience you by killing your husband, but there is nothing to be done about it.'
Good God, Belle thought, the man was certifiably insane. She could think of nothing to say, so she slammed her foot down on his again, this time with considerable force.
'I see that the tales of your grace have been grossly exaggerated,' Spencer was finally goaded into saying.
Belle smiled sweetly. 'You shouldn't believe half of what the
'Not so fast.' He grabbed her arm. 'I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet.'
'But the dance is over, sir. Propriety dictates that-'
'Shut up!' Spencer snapped. 'I'm going to use you to get your husband off into a side room. It wouldn't do to kill him in a crowded ballroom. I'd never escape the scene.'
'If you kill him, you'll never get away with it,' Belle hissed. 'Too many people know you want him dead. You'll be arrested within minutes. And if you're not, you'll never be able to show your face in England again.'
'Stupid female. Do you really think I think that I can shoot a nobleman and expect to live free and easy? I've been living in exile for five years. I'm used to it. Taking my place in society would be nice, but I'd rather have my vengeance. Now come with me.' He yanked viciously at her arm, pulling her toward a set of doors that led to the rest of the house.
Belle acted out of sheer instinct. He wouldn't hurt her now. Not before he got John. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and ran back to John, who was already advancing toward her. 'Quick, we've got to get away from him. He's mad!'
John grasped her hand and started to weave through the crowds. Belle looked behind her. Spencer was closing the distance between them. Alex and Emma were behind him, but as a couple they couldn't move as quickly as he could alone. 'This is too slow,' Belle said nervously. 'He'll get us before we reach the door.'
John didn't reply. He picked up the pace, his leg screaming at the torture.
'John, we're not fast enough. We need to get over there.' Belle pointed to the doors clear across the ballroom. Between them and their means of escape were a hundred dancing lords and ladies.
'And how do propose we get there? Dance?'
Belle blinked. 'Why, yes!' With strength born out of fury and terror, she pulled John to a halt, planted her hand on his shoulder, and began waltzing.
'Are you crazy, Belle?'
'Just waltz. And lead us across the room. We'll be there in no time. Even Spencer wouldn't dare run across the dance floor.'
John willed his injured leg into action and slowly began dancing, edging his way across the room with every step.
In her haste, Belle dug her fingers into his shoulder, trying to propel him further.
'Will you let me lead?' he hissed, followed by, 'So sorry,' when they bumped into another couple.
She craned her neck. 'Can you see him?'
'He's trying to make his way around the perimeter. He'll never catch up with us. A superb plan, love, if I do say so myself.'
They whirled frantically, their movements furiously off-beat, but a few moments later, they reached the other side of the ballroom. 'What are we going to do now?' Belle asked.
'I'm taking you home. Then I'm going to the authorities. I should have done so long ago, but I didn't think they
