Dancing at Midnight (29 page)

blinked a few times and surveyed the scant crowd.

"Or rather," he muttered, "perhaps I should say the three of you."

Belle couldn't help herself. "There are four guests, if you please."

"I beg your pardon."

"I said," she ground out. "There are four guests. I realize that this is

an irregular wedding, but I'd like to be credited with all

four of my guests." She could feel John next to her, shaking with silent

laughter.

Dawes was not the type to give in easily to what he saw as a mere slip

of a girl, especially after he'd been fortified with five glasses of

fine brandy. "I see three."

"There are four."

His finger jabbed at Alex, then Emma, then Dunford. "One—two—three!"

"Four!" Belle finished with a triumphant motion toward Persephone who

was watching with obvious fascination and mirth

from the piano.

At this point Dunford exploded with loud laughter, which set off Emma

and Alex, who had heretofore managed to keep themselves under control.

Dawes grew quite red in the face and said, /"She /is the piano player."

"She's my guest."

"Oh, all right, you impertinent little chit," he grumbled, mopping his

brow with a limp handkerchief. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here

before /four /witnesses..."

The ceremony continued with blessed uneventfulness for several minutes.

John could hardly believe his luck. Just a few more minutes, he thought,

and they'd exchange vows and rings, and then she'd be his for all of

eternity. Fairly bursting with joy and impatience, he forced himself to

resist the urge to shake the voluble priest and get him to speak faster.

He knew that he was supposed to be savoring every moment of the

ceremony, but what he really wanted was to be done with it all and

retreat to

some hideaway where he could be alone with his bride for the next week.

John's hopes for a speedy ceremony, however, were dashed when he heard

the front door to the house slam open with a resounding crash. Dawes

looked at him in askance, and he nodded curtly, signaling that the

ceremony should proceed.

Dawes fumbled forward even as heavy footsteps came crashing toward them

through the hall. Determined not to interrupt

again, Belle kept her eyes scrupulously forward, but John was unable to

keep himself from turning around as a dark-haired

young man burst into the room. His eyes were so blue that he could only

be Belle's brother.

"Good God!" Ned Blydon exclaimed, jumping over a sofa. "Have you gotten

to the part about objections yet?"

"Er, no," Dawes said, his bulbous nose glowing red in the candlelight.

"We haven't."

"Good." Ned grabbed Belle's free hand and dragged her away from the

makeshift altar. "Do you know what you're doing?" he hissed. "Who is

this man? Do you know anything about him? What is going on? And how dare

you send me a note saying only

that you're getting married the next day? What were you thinking?"

Belle waited patiently throughout his tirade. "Which question do you

want me to answer first?"

"Look here!" Dawes boomed. "Is this marriage going forward or not? I've

got—"

"It's on," John said in a deadly voice.

"I'm a busy man," Dawes spluttered. "I've got-"

"Mr. Dawes," Dunford interrupted smoothly, flaying him with a

devastating smile. "I must apologize for this interruption. It is

scandalous that a man of your stature should be treated thus. Won't you

join me in a glass of brandy while this matter is

cleared up?"

Belle didn't know whether to thank Dunford or throttle him. At this rate

Dawes would be too drunk to perform the ceremony.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her brother, who was looking at

her with concern. "Are you certain you want to do this?" he was saying.

"Who /is /this man?"

Alex stepped forward and tapped Ned on the shoulder. "He's a good man,"

he said softly. Beside him, Emma nodded vigorously.

"Do you love him?" Ned asked.

"Yes," Belle whispered. "With all my heart."

Ned looked her in the eye, trying to gauge the depth of her feelings.

"Very well, then. I apologize for the interruption," he said loudly.

"But we're going to have to start over from the beginning, because I

want to give my sister away."

"See here, young man! We're already more than halfway through," Dawes

barked. "I'm a busy man."

"You're a red-faced drunk," Belle muttered to herself.

"Did you say something?" Dawes said, blinking vigorously. He turned to

Dunford, whom he now perceived as an ally, and

grabbed him by the shoulder. "Did she say something?"

Dunford carefully disengaged himself from the priest's grasp. "Don't

worry, good fellow, you'll get paid extra for your troubles.

I'll see to it."

Belle and Ned hurried up the stairs and had just reached the top when

they heard Dawes say, "Is she going to play the piano again?" A loud

whacking sound followed, the origin of which Belle didn't want to know.

Within seconds, Persephone began playing the piano with a vengeance, and

Belle began her second procession of the day

down the stairs to get married.

"You look beautiful," Ned whispered.

"Thank you." Belle smiled at his words, deeply touched. She and her

brother loved one another dearly, but it was a bickering

sort of love, not a complimenting one. When Belle reached the drawing

room again, John's eyes were still shining at her with

love and pride, but this time she also saw a trace of humor. She smiled

back at him, a silly little half-smile to tell him that she

didn't care that her wedding had fallen into a shambles. She only wanted

him.

The ceremony proceeded remarkably smoothly considering the earlier

mishaps. Persephone even stopped pounding the piano promptly when Dawes

groaned, "Dearly beloved."

In due time John and Belle were man and wife.

There was much cheering when they kissed, although Dunford later

remarked that he clapped more for the fact that the

ceremony had actually made it through to the end than he had for the

couple's happiness.

After the customary congratulations and requisite kissing of the bride

by all the male guests (there were only three; it didn't

take very long), Ned looked brightly at his sister and asked, "Where is

the reception? I'm famished."

Belle's face fell. She'd forgotten all about a reception. And to think

that she'd been complaining to herself because she hadn't anything to

do. But then again, even though she was aglow with happiness over having

finally married the man of her dreams,

she felt that a celebration tonight would feel more like a dinner party

than a wedding reception.

"Belle decided to put off a reception," John cut in smoothly, "until

your parents get home. She felt that your mother would

prefer it that way."

Ned thought that his mother would have preferred it if Belle had also

held off on the wedding ceremony, but he held his tongue. He smiled

blandly at his new brother-in-law and then finally asked the question

which had been foremost on his mind all evening. "Just exactly how did

you and my sister meet?"

"I've recently bought property near Ashbourne's holdings at Westonbirt,"

John replied. "We met there."

"And he fought with Alex on the Peninsula," Belle added. "They were good

friends."

Ned looked at John with new respect.

"Speaking of the war," Alex suddenly put in, "you'll never guess who I

saw from my carriage as we arrived."

John turned to face him. "Who?"

"George Spencer."

Belle felt John's fingers tighten on her arm. He appeared as if he were

about to say something, but no sound emerged from

his mouth.

"Surely you remember him," Alex said.

"Who is George Spencer?" Belle asked.

"Just an old acquaintance," John said quickly.

Alex leaned down and dropped a fraternal kiss on Belle's cheek. "I

believe we were about to leave the newlyweds to their own devices." He

smiled at Emma, who immediately made motions as if to leave.

John waylaid him, however, placing a firm hand on his arm. "Actually,

Ashbourne," he said in a low voice. "Could I have a word alone with you

before you leave?"

Alex nodded, and the two men went off into the library.

John shut the door behind them. "I'm not certain if you ever knew the

full story about George Spencer."

Alex cocked his head. "I know you forced him to desert the army."

/"After /I shot him."

"Excuse me?"

"In the ass."

Alex walked over to a nearby table, poured himself a glass of whiskey,

and then downed it in one gulp. "Any particular reason?"

"He was raping a young Spanish girl. A girl I had sworn to protect."

Alex swore softly, and his knuckles grew white around the glass.

"If it really was George Spencer loitering outside," John said

caustically, "I don't think it was because he wanted to offer his

best wishes to the bride and groom."

Alex raised a brow. "Is there more to this story?"

John weighed out the advantages and disadvantages of telling Alex about

his plight. The last thing he wanted to do was drag a man with a wife

and a baby on the way into a potentially deadly situation. But then

again, he had a wife, and given his plans for the near future, he rather

thought a baby might be forthcoming fairly soon. The weight of these new

responsibilities bore down

on him, and he remembered Belle's words from just a few days earlier.

/You can't do this alone./

John hadn't really known how to follow her advice. He'd been on his own

for so long that he had no idea how to ask for help, no idea how to

accept it. Alex was his family now—twice removed by marriage, but family

nonetheless. John already felt a greater sense of kinship with him than

he did with any of his brothers or sisters. Damien hadn't even been able

to make it to the wedding.

Yet Alex and Emma had rushed in from the country. The unfamiliar warmth

of family began to wash over John. He looked

over at Alex, who had been watching him carefully. "I have a problem,"

John said softly.

Alex tilted his head.

"George Spencer is trying to kill me."

There was the soft whoosh of indrawn breath before Alex replied, "Are

you certain?"

"I am certain that /someone /is trying to kill me," John replied. "And I

cannot accept that his presence outside this house is a coincidence."

Alex raked his hand through his hair. He remembered Spencer's rage when

John had forced him to desert. "No. It's not a coincidence. We're going

to have to do something about him."

John was surprised by how reassured he felt by Alex's use of the word "we."

"Where are you staying tonight?"

It wasn't an unintelligent question. John had, after all, gotten married

less than an hour before. Under normal circumstances, he and Belle would

have left for a honeymoon or headed back to Bletchford Manor for some

time alone. But he didn't feel that

they would be safe in the country; there were too many windows and doors

at his home that Spencer might be able to sneak into. London would

probably be safer, if only because there were so many people around who

might witness Spencer's attacks.

"I don't know," John finally said. "I've been busy. I hadn't even

thought about it. I don't particularly want to take Belle back to

my brother's."

"Stay here," Alex suggested. "I'll take Persephone back to my house for

the night. Belle certainly doesn't need a chaperone any longer." He

offered John a sideways smile. "You took care of that in rather short

order."

John couldn't help but grin.

"I'll send over a few extra servants," Alex added. "This place is

already crawling with them, but it can't hurt to have a few

more. The more people here, the safer you'll be."

"Thank you," John said. "I was also considering hiring a bodyguard for

the next few weeks."

"A good idea. I'll see to it."

"That's really not necessary."

"For God's sake, man, you just got married. Let me worry about the damn

bodyguards."

John nodded in assent, thinking that he could get used to the idea of

having a family who cared.

"Emma and I will remain in town until we have this sorted out," Alex

continued. "Contact me in the morning, and we'll decide

what to do about Spencer."

"I'll do that."

"And in the meantime, have yourself a splendid wedding night."

John grinned. "I'll certainly do /that."/

/A /knock sounded at the door, and Belle poked her head in. "Are you

through with him, Alex?" she asked. "Because it's my wedding night, you

know, and I think I've a right to my groom."

"Actually we were just discussing that very topic," Alex said with a

rakish smile. "And as a result I think I want to go find

my wife and go home."

Belle shook her head as he left the room. "What on earth were you

talking about?" she asked her husband.

He put his arm around her shoulders as they followed Alex out. "I'll