"Trouble in paradise?" Dunford asked with a quirky grin.
"Don't even think of taking joy in my distress, you wretch."
"Consider it a compliment. Nobody else's distress causes me nearly as much joy."
"I thrill for you, Dunford." She turned back to Alex. "He's a little irritated at having to go tonight. He doesn't think it's safe."
"It's not. But you can't remain a prisoner here forever. The Tumbley bash is probably the safest outing we could arrange. If Spencer tries anything we'll have a hundred witnesses. It will be easy to put him away."
"I tried to explain that to him, but he wouldn't listen. I think he's worried about me."
Alex smiled. "Husbands are supposed to worry about their wives. It's a lesson I learned very quickly. There's nothing you can do about it besides refrain from excessively stupid behavior, of course. Now, when do you think he'll be down? We really should be on our way."
"Any minute now, I should think."
As if on cue, John appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Oh good, there you are," Belle called out.
"Don't look so damned cheerful."
Belle offered her companions an apologetic look to try to make up for her husband's surliness. The two men looked heartily amused, and so Belle simply shook her head and waited for John to join them. Stairs always slowed him down. Once he reached the bottom, however, he moved across the hall with surprising swiftness.
"Ashbourne. Dunford." He greeted his guests with a quick nod.
"We thought it might be safer for you to come with us tonight," Dunford said.
"Good idea. Where's Emma? Isn't she coming?"
"She's off getting her ears checked," Belle replied.
"What?"
"It's a long story."
"I'm sure it is," he drawled.
Belle grabbed his hand and gave it a firm yank, pulling him to her side. "I'm getting tired of your attitude, John."
"Don't expect me to be pleasant for at least a week," he hissed. "You know how I feel about this."
Belle clamped her mouth shut into a resolute line and turned back to Alex and Dunford. Alex was looking up at the ceiling and whistling to himself. Dunford was grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh, shut up," she finally said.
"I didn't say a thing!" This came from both Dunford and John.
"Men. I'm sick of the lot of you. Emma! Emma! I need you! Now!"
Emma came tearing out into the hall with amazing speed. "So sorry, Aunt Caroline!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Belle needs me." She didn't stop moving until she nearly barreled into Belle's side. "Thank the good Lord and you, too, Belle. I thought she was going to kill me."
"Shall we be off?" Alex said smoothly. "Where is Persephone?"
"She decided to ride with Aunt Caroline and Uncle Henry," Emma replied, taking her cousin's arm and leaving the men to fend for themselves. "She poured something hideous down my ears," she whispered. "Said they were filthy."
Belle smiled and shook her head. "She was just funning you. She hates it when people keep secrets from her."
Emma allowed Alex to help her up into the carriage. "Lady Worth could make Napoleon cry."
That comment elicited a loud grunt of agreement from John.
Belle shot him an irritated glance as she sat down next to Emma. John slouched into the seat across from them, but Belle was not fooled by his lazy posture. She could tell that every inch of him was on alert, ready to spring into action should it be necessary. John's vigilant attitude seeped into Alex and Dunford, and they, too, kept one eye on the doors and the other on the ladies.
Belle tried to avoid looking at the men; they were making her nervous, and despite the brave front she had put up for John, she was a little apprehensive about the evening. Luckily, Emma kept up a constant stream of conversation, and they chatted companionably as they rolled toward their destination.
"And the morning sickness is gone completely," Emma was saying. "At least I hope it's gone. I haven't felt ill for a week."
"That's good. Have you started to show?" Belle kept her voice low. The conversation really wasn't suitable for mixed company.
"A little, but these styles hide it quite well. And of course one can't see anything under this cloak, but-What on earth!"
The carriage lurched drunkenly to the right.
John was on top of Belle within seconds, moving instinctively to shield her from harm. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice urgent.
"I'm fine. I'm fine, just-Oh!"
They teetered a bit and then tottered to the left.
"What the hell is going on?" Alex demanded, moving from his position in front of Emma to the window.
"Alex, don't!" Emma cried out. "If we tip over, you'll be crushed!"
Alex reluctantly drew back inside. It didn't feel as if they were in extreme danger. The carriage was rocking and tipping, but in a manner which could almost be described as gentle. Finally, as if heaving a great sigh of relief, the carriage let out a loud creak and then fell toward the left, settling down at a slant that sent everyone tumbling toward the wall.
When it finally became apparent that they weren't moving anywhere else, Belle sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she had ended up at the top of the pile and set about unwrapping her arm from Alex's neck. "It appears," she said, crawling to the window, "that we've settled against a tree. That's why we haven't tipped completely over."
"Ouch!" Emma groaned. "You've bloody sharp knees, Belle. Watch where you're going."