Edward blinked at her. “Where the devil did you get such a thing?”
“Oh,” she said, smiling at him. “I bought it in Bath. But don’t worry, I said it was for you.”
Edward opened and closed his mouth again, looking a little nonplussed. He sat up and clutched his head with a groan, and then looked at his other hand, which she was still holding between hers, clasped in her lap.
“I’m dreadfully sorry,” she said, hoping his anger was fading. “That was entirely my fault for distracting you.”
“Yes,” he grumbled, his dark brows drawn together in a rather sulky frown. “It was.”
She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. “Well, I was well-served,” she admitted with a rueful smile, keeping his hand against her cheek. “I was never more frightened than when I saw you go down. I think my heart stopped.”
His eyes lifted to hers at that, and she couldn’t quite read the expression there, but he wasn’t angry.
He made a sound half way between indignation and amusement. “Take more than a swing from Charlie to finish me off,” he muttered, sounding rather miffed. “Where is the devil, anyway?” he demanded, looking around.
“Oh.” Belle looked around and realised that Charlie had been thoughtful enough to make himself scarce. She decided she really did like Charlie immensely. “He must have gone to ... fetch help?” she suggested, with a lift of one eyebrow. Though surely, they both knew that wasn’t true.
“Escaping my wrath, more like,” he said in an undertone, though frankly, Belle didn’t think that was the reason at all, though she kept it to herself.
“You’re going to have the most dreadful bruise,” she observed, reaching out a hand to touch his face. Edward winced and she drew back.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You said that already,” he said, sounding grouchy and staring at her with a strangely uncertain expression in his eyes. “Shouldn’t you ...” He paused and looked vaguely uncomfortable and she waited, intrigued, for him to continue.
“Shouldn’t I ... “ she prompted as he failed to say anything else.
“I don’t know,” he said with a huff, sounding a little irritable. “Kiss it better, or something. Isn’t that a wifely duty?”
“Oh!” Belle bit her lip to stop the grin spreading over her lips. “Oh, certainly, yes. It is,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice serious. She shifted a little closer to him, heedless of her lovely skirts on the dusty ballroom floor, and leaned in. Belle pressed her lips a little to the side of the growing bruise so as not to hurt him. “There,” she said, quite unable to keep the smile from either her face or her voice any longer. “All better?”
He shook his head.
“No? Oh dear,” she said, with mock horror. “Where else?”
He pointed to the line of his jaw.
“Here?” she murmured against his skin, feeling the bristle of stubble beneath her lips as she trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, following the path he was drawing with his finger. “Oh dear, Charlie is quite a brute,” she murmured as he leaned his head back to allow her to continue. His breathing was coming faster now as his finger crossed a path over his chest to one nipple. She smiled as she ducked her head lower and her mouth closed over him, feeling the skin pebble beneath her tongue. He hauled in a breath and she felt suddenly powerful, to have this big, obstinate, difficult man, almost purring like a cat beneath her touch. “Here too?” she asked, gazing up at eyes so dark they looked almost black as she turned her attention to the other nipple. She treated it to the same delicate attention and wondered where he would guide her next. “I really think you must be bruised all over,” she murmured, holding his gaze.
“Oh God,” he groaned, reaching down and pulling her head back up, taking her mouth, hard and urgent. He let her go, his breathing harsh and loud in her ears. “I want you in my bed, now. Right. Now.” he demanded, hauling her to her feet.
They were laughing as he towed her behind him and back out to the hallway, grinding to a halt as they stumbled towards the grand staircase - just as Lady Russell and company walked through the front door.
Lady Russell, Lady Sinclair, Aubrey and Garrett all stood gaping at them and Belle had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop herself from giggling. Her cheeks were flaming and Edward was half dressed and bruised and towing her behind him like a caveman with his kill ... heaven alone knew what they were thinking. Though she suspected they were spot on.
“Er ... Good afternoon,” Edward said, with remarkable dignity for a man in such a state of undress. Belle wondered if marquesses were trained to act with dignity under any and all circumstances, and if such situations were covered in some kind of handbook, and then had to pretend to cough as a bubble of laughter broke free.
“I say, why don’t we have tea in the parlour,” Aubrey said, his voice rather louder than usual.
“A good idea, sir,” Garrett chipped in, guiding Lady Sinclair, who was staring with open-mouthed admiration at Edward, firmly into the parlour. Even Lady Russell took a good and thorough look.
The door closed behind them and Belle could stand it no more and erupted into laughter. “Oh, oh,” she cried, clutching at her sides. “Poor Garrett, he didn’t know what to do with himself.” She came up short as she noticed Edward staring at her.
“I was right about you,” he said, looking rather grim. “You’re a hoyden.”
For a moment Belle quailed, but then she saw the laughter lurking in his eyes.
“You’re going to ruin my reputation, aren’t you? Rushing around Bath and buying unseemly books, and behaving like a ... a ... “
“Hoyden,” she supplied, grinning at him. “You said that already.”
“No. Worse,” he grumbled, moving closer to her. “Following me about the place and doing all you can to seduce me.” He moved closer still, his voice scratchy and rough in a way that made her blood heat. “You’re a wanton ...” he said against her lips. “Insatiable,” he added, nipping at her lower lip. “Wicked creature.”
Belle sighed against his mouth. “I’m sorry, my lord. I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Me either,” he growled, and swept her up, carrying her the rest of the way to his room, and kicking the door shut behind him.
***
“We should dress for dinner.”
Edward grunted. He didn’t want to move. Belle was snuggled up against him and it felt rather, well ... wonderful. It couldn’t last, of course, he knew that. Which was why he wanted to enjoy it now.
“You still haven’t finished your wifely duties,” he said, tangling his fingers in the soft blonde curls that were tickling his chest. She looked up at that, amused enquiry in her eyes as she lifted one delicate blond brow.