Edward stared at her, a strange and daunting sensation growing in his chest as he looked upon his wife, staring at him with such obvious admiration.
She squealed as he moved suddenly, throwing her down on her back, desperate to be inside her. Belle laughed at his urgency, a joyous sound that lifted his heart as he sank into her, joining them together.
“Oh, Edward,” she murmured against his skin, her voice full of amusement. “I’m so glad you stayed.”
Chapter 23
“Wherein our hero is planted a facer.”
Belle was unsurprised that she did not see Edward again the next night. She made no effort to seek him out, sensing that it would serve her purpose better if he had the chance to miss her. This was how it would be, she realised. Three steps forward, two steps back. But that was alright, she could wait.
She smiled to herself as she remembered their night together, wondering at herself and the way the man made her feel. Belle had never realised that desire was something women felt with such ... such urgency. That men suffered it and acted in rash and dangerous ways because of it seemed accepted, normal, even, but that her husband should make her feel so ... so ... wicked! She admitted to herself that she wanted nothing more than to hunt him down and tow him back to their room, and stay there. The thought made her blush, though she didn’t regret it in the least.
“What on earth are you thinking about, Belle?” Crecy demanded, her eyes dancing with mischief. “You’ve gone positively scarlet.”
Belle huffed and returned her attention to her book. “Mind your own business,” she muttered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Crecy stick her tongue out at her, and laughed. “I’ll tell you when you’re married,” she added with a prim little sniff.
Crecy snorted, but she thought her sister looked vaguely troubled by the remark, so she put her book down.
“What is it?” she asked, as Crecy returned an innocent expression that Belle well knew not to trust.
“What’s what?” she asked with a sunny smile. “You know, I think it’s such a lovely day, I shall go for a ride this afternoon.”
“Again?” Belle demanded and narrowed her eyes at her. She’d hardly seen her sister since they returned from Bath, as she was forever out riding. Belle supposed she was pleased at that. Crecy needed to be outside and ridding herself of the restless energy that would sink her into the doldrums if she was kept indoors too long. She had longed to ride when they were with Aunt Grimble, as a way to escape, but they couldn’t afford such extravagance. It was only right she should indulge her passion now. “Well, wrap up warm. It may look sunny, but it’s freezing still, and don’t get lost, and ...”
“Take a groom!” Crecy finished for her with a tut, giving Belle a disparaging look. “It was only that one time, Belle. I’ve ridden miles and miles now. I know the place rather well, I think.”
“Hmmm.” Belle couldn’t shake the feeling she was hiding something but if she stayed on the estate and took a groom to keep her safe, there didn’t ought to be any harm.
Returning her attention to her book, she looked up, as there was a faint scratching sound at the door.
Garrett entered at her invitation and passed her a folded slip of paper. “From Mr Davis,” he said in an undertone. Belle wondered if she was imagining the twinkle in the man’s eyes as he handed the paper over. She rather thought not and smiled at him.
“Thank you, Mr Garrett.”
“What is it, Belle?” Crecy asked, though she had buried her nose in her book, absently twining the long black ribbon she used as a marker round and round her fingers. Belle had the feeling she wasn’t really seeing the words on the page at all.
“Nothing,” Belle replied, deciding this was her own secret. “But I think I’ll stretch my legs a bit - indoors,” she added as Crecy looked up. “Enjoy your ride, won’t you?”
“I will, Crecy murmured, though now she was staring out of the window, a faraway look in her eyes as she held the slip of ribbon to her lips. Belle frowned a moment, wishing she knew what it was Crecy was thinking of. But the opportunity to see Edward sparring again was too big a temptation. Closing the door on her mysterious sister, she headed once more for the ballroom.
It was quieter this time, as Charlie wasn’t shouting instructions, but was also stripped to the waist and standing up with Edward.
Belle blinked, at first thinking that poor Charlie would be murdered as her husband was so much taller and broader than the wiry little valet. It soon became clear, however, that no heavy blows were being exchanged; it was more an exercise in skill.
Even to her untrained eye she could see that Charlie was very fast and often managed to land a blow because he was constantly on the move, and ... and Edward was dropping his guard.
“Come on Eddie,” Charlie taunted. “What’s up wiv ye? I dunno where ye head’s at, but it ain’t ‘ere!”
Privately, Belle thought Charlie was right. The single-minded focus that had been evident all the other times she’d watched him seemed lacking today, and she winced as Charlie landed a nifty blow to Edward’s jaw. They might only be playing at it, but she’d heard his fist hitting flesh, and she didn’t think it was as light a blow as she’d first imagined.
Edward grunted with annoyance and Charlie danced back out of the way of a right hook that would have sent him sprawling. Moving forward again, she watched as Charlie repeated his move as Edward once again dropped his guard.
“Keep your guard up!” she yelled, which, in hindsight, perhaps hadn’t been her best move. Edward was so surprised that he looked around and Charlie caught him on the right temple, knocking him out cold.
“Edward!” she cried in horror as her husband crashed to the ground. “Oh, my word!”
She sank to the floor, kneeling beside him and wishing she was the swooning type who always carried smelling salts. Instead, she chaffed at his hands and patted his face. “Edward, wake up! Oh, do wake up.” Terror that perhaps he was seriously hurt began to build in her chest, a cold sickening feeling that made tears prickle behind her eyes. So, when Edward did wake, with a groan and a rather vivid obscenity, she could only exclaim with delight.
“Oh, Edward!” She held his hand to her face and kissed his fingers as he glared at her in fury.
“You, madam, are a .... a ...”
“A blessed nuisance?” she offered, blinking away tears of relief and looking in chagrin at the lump forming on his head.
For a moment, he just stared at her, and she waited for him to go off in a towering rage.
“Keep your guard up?” he demanded, scowling at her. “Where the devil did you hear that?”
Belle swallowed and wondered what kind of trimming she was in for this time. “I-I didn’t hear it, Edward, I ... I read it.”
“You ... what?”
He looked rather endearing when he was flummoxed, she decided, and then realised that she was still holding his hand and he hadn’t yet objected. “I read it, Edward. In a book. About pugilism,” she added, in case that hadn’t been clear.