“Strange.”
“What is?” She stopped again.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m going to think about it.”
Belinda nodded and they continued through the park as if they were any normal betrothed couple. They greeted a few people and chatted together. No one would have suspected that they spoke of demons and battles.
“Where did you find Thor?”
“I hired him to follow you. He has a certain talent for following and not being seen. And I like him.”
“I like him too. I hope you are paying him well.”
“Of course. I have even arranged a pension for his mother, should the worst happen.”
“Good.”
“Did you hear from Foxjohn?”
“We have to be at the office tonight. Unfortunately, mother informed me that she required my company at the Havarsham Ball this evening. I wrote Reece to tell him I will be tardy.”
“You might enjoy a ball, Bella.”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “At one time, I enjoyed them quite a lot.”
All he wanted was to wash the sorrow from her voice. He had no magic that would wipe away the difficult path she’d chosen. “Will you save me the first two dances?”
She laughed. It was worth having to attend a hundred boring balls to hear her laughter.
“I will keep my card clear, sir.”
“Then I shall not miss the Havarsham Ball. And I will have Thor waiting to help us make our escape after your mother returns home.”
Chapter 9
Belinda plastered a smile on her face for the world to see. Pretending contentment was bred into her and no amount of hunter training displaced it.
Her mother stood on stable legs for the first fifteen minutes after entering the Havarsham Ball, quite a feat for the countess. They had arrived earlier than was considered fashionable. Her mother would be in her cups in a short time. It was unfortunate, but there was little help for it unless her father came home and took his wife in hand. The countess had begun the practice of using opium on a daily basis almost a year earlier, and the resulting delirium worried Belinda.
“Mother, would it not be wise to pace yourself with the champagne?” Belinda’s inquiry accompanied her mother taking her third fluted glass from a passing servant.
The countess turned, spilling some of the bubbly drink. She giggled over the spill before frowning at her daughter. “It is not your place to tell me what to do, Belinda. Go and find Tullering and woo him. I will not have him backing out of this marriage.”
Belinda sighed. She knew that her mother wouldn’t remember her harsh words in another few minutes. Soon she would have to make arrangement to have the carriage brought around. It was something she had done dozens of times over the past three years. She would tuck her mother into it, Tubbs would drive the countess home, and she and Gabriel would leave the ball in Thor’s carriage.
“Yes mother.” Belinda made her way across the crowded ballroom. She spotted her friend, Lorelei and fought the crush of people to get to her.
Lorelei’s family was French, but had moved to England at the very beginning of the revolution. She had been a young girl at the time and had little accent, though sometimes she affected one to entice young men.
Her friend’s eyes widened and a brilliant smile lit her face. “Belinda, how are you?”
“I cannot believe how many people are here. It is horribly crowded,” Belinda said.
“It is a terrible crush.”
“How are you, Lorelei?”
“I am fine. Leopold has asked for my hand.”
“Well that is big news. I saw nothing in the post about it. Have you refused him?” Lorelei was the only friend from Belinda’s old life who knew about her new life. No one else could be trusted with the information. All of her other friends would have thought her mad or a liar. Lorelei had accepted her at her word. She asked few questions and made no judgment.
“I have withheld my response.”
“Why?” Belinda asked.
“I do not know, really. I’m not ready to respond. He will wait or he will move on to another woman. It is a test.”
“And if he does move on? When last we spoke you said you were in love with him.”
She shrugged in a very French way. “I must make sure that he is the right man for me. He must wait.”
“I do not understand.”
“That is because you are English. Yet you have not said yes to Tullering, have you?”
A knot formed in Belinda’s stomach. “Not yet. He has been very patient and agrees to whatever terms I set up. Except one.”
Lorelei moved closer and lowered her voice. “He knows about the hunting?”
“Yes, he knows.”
Her friend’s eyes widened and then her focus shifted to something across the room. “He has arrived.”
Her heart tripped and her back stiffened at the idea that Gabriel was near. When she finally turned, a familiar bout of butterflies stirred in her stomach. He was in black evening attire with a crisp white blouse and cravat. He stood taller than most of the men in the room and his shoulders stretched the jacket to its maximum. He too was a warrior. She’d seen it in the way he fought.
His eyes scanned the room and settled on her immediately. It was as if she had a beacon on her head. Then as if on a tether, he was drawing closer.
“He makes no pretense,” Lorelei said.
“What do you mean?”
There was that French shrug again. “Most men would circle the room. They would speak to acquaintances, all the while, pretending to have other, more important business to attend to besides seeing their lover. Your Gabriel comes directly to you. He makes his intentions known to everyone in the room. You are his only business. It is refreshing.”
“Yes it is.” Gabriel was different from all the other men in the room. He didn’t tell her what to do or where to go. He did not play the games other men played. He understood her and knew she would never play along. He was her equal in every way. So why did she hesitate to marry him?
“Good evening, Lady Belinda, Mademoiselle LePlante. You are both visions of loveliness as always.” Gabriel’s voice was charming and created a spiral of warmth in Belinda’s stomach that spread outward filling her.
“Thank you, my lord.” Lorelei said. “Are you flattering all the young ladies this evening?”
“Not at all. Only those who deserve such flattery. And may I say, I see no other deserving ladies assembled?”
“Quite a charmer, Lord Tullering. I had no idea.” Lorelei waved her fan in front of her face. It was very coquettish, and she did it whenever she flirted.
Belinda rolled her eyes, which she knew was very unladylike. Hopefully her mother had not seen her.
“I do my best.” He bowed. “Lady Belinda. I believe I have this dance.”
“Indeed.” Belinda took his arm. She gave her friend a sharp look as they walked away.
Lorelei just smiled and waved.
The music started, and swept her into a promenade. There was little time to speak to Gabriel or anyone else, but every few moments she returned to his hand. There was something lovely about the anticipation of meeting him each time. Her body tightened with excitement and the smile she’d plastered on her face for the benefit of her mother and the rest of the ton, brightened. A bubble of joy filled her chest.
He beamed down at her as if she were the only woman in the room.
His physique was more magnificent than any other man at the ball. She remembered how delectable he was naked in her bed only hours before. The heat of a blush crept up her neck to her cheeks just as Gabriel’s hand met hers once again.
One side of his mouth tipped up in a wicked little grin that made her suspect he knew exactly what she was thinking about.
Her face was on fire. She was embarrassed, but also happy. When was the last time she’d been happy? She had no memory in
the last four years of joy. Yet in the last few days, she had been happy.
During battle she had a sense of excitement that was akin to delight, but she couldn’t compare it with real happiness.
He accepted her and loved her even though she had nothing in common with the other women of the ton. He’d not made any attempts to change her. Of course, he would prefer if she didn’t risk her life on a regular basis, but he had not run for a more normal life at the first signs that she was different. Instead, he had learned more about her and her choices.
So why had she not agreed to marry him? She would never meet another man that her parents approved of, who would be as willing to understand.
Men changed after marriage. She’d heard many of her newly-married friends say so. They wooed and flattered to get a girl to the altar and then, once the nuptials were over, they treated their new wives the same as all their other possessions. Some were ignored and others despised. In all honesty the women were little better, speaking of a young courtier as if he were a demigod before the wedding. Building him up so high that the poor sod had nowhere to go but down. The entire marriage business was doomed. Only a very few cherished each other beyond their wedding day, but those were the exceptions.
Maybe she and Gabriel were the exception to the rule. His adoration might well last a lifetime. She certainly had not made him out as perfect before the marriage. In fact, she expected the worst from him since his return. Yet at each test, he had impressed her.
The music came to an end. Gabriel bowed before her and she made a deep curtsy.
Arm in arm they walked to the side of the ballroom.
“I would very much like to know what you were thinking about during the dance. It appeared to be quite distracting.”
Her heart beat faster. She could be coquettish and make him dig for information, but that didn’t seem to fit the friendship building between them. “I was thinking about marriage.”
His eyebrows rose and he stepped in closer. “Favorably?”
She shook her head. “No, not very, to be honest.”
He laughed so loudly that several heads turned. “Is it marriage in general that you disdain or our looming arrangement?”
She was mesmerized by his strong jaw, perfectly-crooked nose and startling eyes. His appearance had not become commonplace, as other extraordinary things do over time. Gabriel remained a wonder to her. “I would not say that I disdain marriage, my lord. I was only thinking that most people who enter into such an arrangement are disappointed with the outcome.”
The music started again.
He bowed. “I believe this too is my dance, my lady?”
She nodded.
It was a waltz. There was no need to wait for the next turn before finding herself in front of Gabriel. Their betrothed status meant that she could waltz with him without causing a scandal. He pulled her into the circle of his arms and whirled her around the room. People watched them. She ignored the crowed as best she could.
Her mother stumbled and an older gentleman took her elbow steadying the countess. Yet she still sloshed champagne into her mouth.
“I think we shall have to see my mother home soon.”
“It would appear so.” His voice was even and calm. “Do you think she drinks so much because your father keeps himself in the north?”
“I think that is a great part of it, but suspect there is more to it that just distance. I have never seen either of my parents happy. My father has not been in London or our country home for more than a few weeks a year since I was a little girl.”
“Yes. I remember. You and your mother would make a big fuss over his coming home only to be disappointed when he would only stay a few days or delay his visit. Is this what you mean about marriage being disappointing?”
A knot tightened in her stomach. “My parents are not the only examples of a substandard marriage.”
“No, I suppose not. Many couples find the reality different from the fantasy.”
He danced quite well and in spite of the nature of their discussion, Belinda enjoyed being close to him. For once, they acted the part of a normal couple enjoying the distractions of the London season. Real or make believe, she wished the music would never end.
His eyes never moved from her face as they completed the remainder of the waltz in silence. He commanded but without bullying.
She followed his lead but kept a firm frame, which he did not invade. They were in perfect harmony, gliding around the crowded dance floor as if they were the only couple on it.
The music concluded and Gabriel swept into an elegant bow before her. “I believe that our marriage would work, Bella. I know that I can make you as happy as you have always made me.” His voice was only a whisper in her ear as they exited the ballroom. “I believe this with all of my heart.”
Emotion tightened her chest and unshed tears stung her eyes. His words moved her to emotions she recalled from a past hazed over by tragedy and war.
Gabriel dashed a few feet away to take the arm of her wobbly mother. “Countess, you must be exhausted from your busy day. Please allow me to order your carriage.”
Glassy eyes stared back at him as if she couldn’t quite place who he was or what he wanted. The countess recovered her manners. “Very kind of you, sir. I think I shall go home now.”
Gabriel immediately called a footman and ordered the carriage brought around.
Belinda admired the way he handled her mother. It was nice, not to be responsible for her, for once. She didn’t mention it to him as she followed to the carriage.
“Where is Belinda?” The countess panicked.
“I am here, mother.” Belinda climbed up into her family carriage.
Gabriel smiled as he handed her up. “I will follow.”
She watched him walk toward the dark carriage veiled in the shadows down the street. Having been on her own for so long, it was a nice change to know Gabriel’s strength was behind her.
Belinda settled onto the bench across from her mother. The carriage jerked into motion.
“What a fine ball. I do not know why we attend so few functions, Belinda. You need more exposure out in society. I think you are positively becoming a hermit. We must find you a husband. You will not be getting any younger. What will happen to you if you never marry?” Her mother shivered.
“What about Gabriel, mother? I thought you wanted me to marry the Earl of Tullering.”
The countess’s stare grew distant for a few seconds as if she were lost. Belinda thought she might be trying to remember who Gabriel was. “An earl would be a fine match.”
“You should rest, mother. There are a lot of carriages in the street tonight. It will take some time to get home.”
A quarter of an hour later, her mother was snoring with her head leaning against the side of the carriage. Belinda peered out the window. They were barely out of sight of the Havarsham townhouse. The traffic was horrendous. She waited until the streets were less crowded and they rode in relative darkness, before knocking on the roof to signal the driver to stop.
With the slowing carriage, her mother stirred. The countess snorted once and resumed her slumber without opening her eyes.
Belinda didn’t wait for the door to be opened or the steps pulled down for her. As soon as the carriage stopped, she jumped down into the muddy street. She called up to the driver, “See her ladyship home.”
“Of course, miss,” Tubbs said and pulled away.
Belinda waited in the deserted street. She listened for the sound of Thor’s carriage. He may have had some trouble keeping up with her in the crowded street outside the ball. She watched her surroundings.
Two men were walking down the street. One had a limp. Neither man was very tall, and they both lumbered unnaturally. They did not portray the steady walk of a human or even the stumbling of a drunk. These two lumbered just the way demons did.
Belinda crouched down. Her dress slogged in the mud b
ut there was no help for that. It was never easy to get to her sword out from under a heavy gown. She’d had a discreet pocket cut into most of her day dresses and could slip a hand through to a properly placed weapon. Ball gowns would show such a pocket and so, she had to crouch, lift her skirts and grapple for the weapon. Pulling the ties to the skirt there, in the muddy, London, street within feet of the homes of people she knew, did not appeal to her. Most of them would be out for the evening, but she didn’t risk it.
She wrapped her hand around the hilt and waited.
The demons could see better in the dark than humans, so Belinda kept her weapon behind her back. As they drew closer, she made out the gray skin of treboxes.
They were on the hunt for a capture. One of them held a black bag big enough to hold a human. The memory of being stuffed into a similar bag flashed through her mind. It had been difficult to breathe in the heavy sac and her kidnappers had thrown her around.
Over the years, she’d converted the terror of that night into anger. “Hello, gentlemen. How can I help you?”
One gurgled a response. “Come quietly and you will not be harmed.”
She exposed her weapon and sliced through the air between her and the demons. The blade swooshed through the quiet night. The bubble of excitement in her belly and the speeding of her heart buoyed her spirits. “I tried that once, and you lying bastards almost drowned me. I think we will do it my way this time.”
“You don’t want to play with us, girl.” The demon tried to sound confident, but he paused and hesitated belying his trepidation.
“Oh, but I do,” she cooed.
The one who held the sack jumped straight up in the air and came down with the bag at her head.
Belinda sliced the bag in half and then ducked avoiding the trebox tackling her. She spun, but the skirt slowed her movement and the follow-through of the sword only nicked the demons ribs. Still, it was enough to make the creature hiss and grab his side.
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