Broken out of her reverie and back to the real world, Belle started in horror but it was too late. The short fellow, perhaps sensing movement, looked over, missed his timing and didn’t lift the pad in time to meet the powerful fist which clobbered him hard, sending him sprawling to the grass.
Belle gave a squeal of alarm and remorse, and hurried forward as the marquess uttered an obscenity so shocking that she slithered to a halt on the icy path.
He snapped around, green eyes flashing with irritation.
“What the devil are you doing here?” he demanded as Belle quailed a little, aware they had been prying. But his damned appalling manners lit something inside of her and she remembered her vow not to be cowed by him. Aware she was probably red-cheeked and praying he’d think it was merely because of the cold, she raised her chin.
His eyes narrowed.
“Forgive us, my lord,” she began her voice laced with contempt for his horrible manners. “We have been walking all morning and become rather lost. We are chilled, through, and merely sought a way back inside and out of the weather. We did not mean to disturb your ... your ...” She faltered, wondering what exactly he had been doing. “Your exercise,” she finished, deciding that must cover it.
“But having come across it you decided to stay and watch the show?” he demanded, one dark eyebrow raised, his tone mocking. “Like anything you see?” he asked, his tone lewd and insulting.
Belle heard Crecy gasp in fury at his words, but she held the insufferable man’s gaze, gathering her courage. “I was intrigued,” she admitted, seeing surprise in his eyes at her words. “I have never seen a fight before, or whatever this was, and it was ... stimulating,” she admitted, hoping he wasn’t aware just how stimulating she’d found it.
Crecy muttered something she couldn’t hear and Belle ignored her, too caught up in refusing to be intimidated by this arrogant, rude, bad-tempered ... glorious man.
“Stimulating?” he repeated, that eyebrow inching higher. He prowled – yes, that was certainly the word - prowled closer.
Belle swallowed.
“I am very sorry that I distracted you,” she added, hearing a slightly raspy quality to her voice as he now stood close enough to touch. She clenched her fists, lest the desire to do just that overwhelm her, but could not help but allow her gaze to travel over a simply delectable, sculpted torso. Heaven’s above. She somehow doubted Lord Nibley looked like that under his shirt, and then scolded herself severely for even thinking such a thing.
“It’s Charles you should apologise to,” he snapped, though as she dragged her unwilling gaze from that fine torso and met his eyes she thought she saw a glimmer of amusement there. And a whole lot of male pride. “Ah, there you are Miss Holbrook,” he murmured as she finally made eye contact.
She stared back at him, assuming she was by now a revolting shade of scarlet, but refusing to look away. “Then I apologise to Charles also,” she added, rather surprised at how calm she sounded. “Now, if you would be so very kind as to guide us as to our path, we will leave you in peace.”
There was a moment’s silence as he watched her, considering, and then he took an indecent step closer so that they were almost touching. He stared down at her as she was forced to lean her head back to keep eye contact, and she felt the flutter of his breath as it clouded around her. “Don’t you want to watch the rest of the show?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, making that strange and unfamiliar heat in her belly liquefy and burn hotter still.
“Uh ... well, if you don’t mind ...”
He gave a snort of outrage and backed up, flinging out one heavily muscled arm towards a door at the end of the corridor. “Down there, turn right and keep going until you reach the inner courtyard, sharp left at the banqueting hall. Good day, Miss Holbrook.”
Belle stared at him for a moment, even though every instinct, including her sister’s insistent tugging at her sleeve, told her she ought to scurry away. Instead she just smiled at him. “Thank you, my lord,” she replied, allowing herself one bold, and frankly scandalous, lingering look at him, before turning and walking away.
Chapter 8
“Wherein tensions rise, amongst other things.”
“Oh my God!”
Once they were out of sight and earshot of the furious marquess, Crecy dissolved into hysterical laughter.
“Oh, oh!” she said, clutching at her sides and gasping for breath. “Oh, Belle, you were magnificent! I was never prouder. How ever did you dare?”
Belle stared at her sister in horrified silence as what she had just done sank in. Her stomach clenched, and she had the terrible urge to run back outside and lose her breakfast in the rose beds. How ever did you dare? Crecy’s words rang in her ears, and she had no comprehensible answer past claiming temporary insanity. What had she been thinking? Standing up to the man was one thing, making him utterly furious and ravishing him with her eyes like some ... some ... oh Lord, like some common light skirt - well that was something entirely different.
“Belle, are you alright? You’ve gone an awfully funny colour.”
“I-I,” Belle stammered but didn’t seem able to find anything more intelligent to say.
“Come on,” Crecy said, looping her arm through Belle’s and pulling her forward. “It’s probably because you’ve missed lunch. You know how tetchy you get when you’re hungry.”
It was a measure of Belle’s confusion and distress that she offered no protest to this rather ungracious observation, and allowed Crecy to tow her in the direction the marquess had indicated.
The problem was that, as outraged as she was by her own behaviour, she knew that if she was put in the same position again, she’d likely repeat the performance. There was undoubtedly something about the marquess that brought out the worst in her, and she made herself a promise to go out of her way to avoid him in the future. The man well may be worthy of her sympathy and understanding, but those emotions were far and wide from what she experienced when in his proximity. When the bad-tempered, irascible, infuriating marquess was close, she was torn between boxing his blasted ears and ... and ...
She felt a blush stain her cheeks and that strong, coiling heat grow deep in her belly again.
Yes. Keeping away from him was definitely the safest thing she could do.
***