Free Dancing at Midnight by Julia Quinn Page B

Alex's duchess immensely. It was easy and
    painless to like her, he supposed. Unlike her cousin,
    she didn't cause his heart to race and his breathing to stop every time
    he saw her.

    "Perhaps I could simply give you one of my slippers now," Emma added,
    "and then you could give it back to me next time
    you dine with us."

    "Is that an invitation?"

    "Of course, Blackwood," Alex put in. "You are always welcome here."

    The foursome exchanged pleasantries for a quarter of an hour, awaiting
    the call to dinner. Belle sat quietly, surreptitiously
    studying John, pondering why he would do something as sweet as wrapping
    her boot up as a present after he acted so rudely
    that afternoon. How was she supposed to react? Did he want to be her
    friend again? She kept a weak smile pasted to her
    face, silently cursing him for setting her into such confusion.

    John's thoughts were similarly occupied, wondering how on earth Belle
    would react to him that evening. She couldn't possibly understand all of
    the reasons he needed to keep his distance, and Lord knew he couldn't
    explain it to her. Rape, was not,
    after all, an acceptable topic for polite conversation.

    When dinner was ready, Emma whispered something into Alex's ear and then
    he rose and took her arm. "You'll excuse me
    if I defy convention and take my wife in to dinner," he said, smiling
    rakishly. "Belle, we'll be in the less formal dining room.
    Emma thought it would be more comfortable."

    John stood and offered his hand to Belle as the other couple swept out
    of the room. "They seem to have left us quite alone."

    "I imagine they did that on purpose."

    "Do you think so?"

    Belle took John's hand and rose. "You should take it as a compliment. It
    means Emma likes you."

    "And do /you /like me, Belle?"

    There was a long pause, followed by a decisive, "No."

    "I suppose that I deserve no better." He allowed her hand to drop back
    to her side.

    She whirled around. "No, you don't. I cannot believe you even had the
    nerve to come over here to dine tonight."

    "I was invited, if you recall."

    "You should have declined. You should have sent word that you were ill,
    or that your mother was ill, or your dog or your
    horse or anything to avoid accepting the invitation."

    He had nothing to say other than, "You are, of course, correct."

    "You just don't—You don't kiss someone and then speak to her the way you
    did to me. It isn't polite. It isn't nice, and—"

    "And you are always nice?"

    His voice wasn't the least bit mocking, which confused her. "I try to
    be. Lord knows I tried to be nice to you."

    He inclined his head. "You certainly did."

    "I—" She broke off and looked up at him. "Aren't you even going to argue
    with me?"

    He lifted his shoulder in a tired gesture. "What would be the point? You
    are obviously in the right, and I, as usual, am in the wrong."

    Belle stared at him incomprehensibly, her lips parted in amazement. "I
    don't understand you."

    "It is most likely for the best that you don't even try. I apologize, of
    course, for my behavior this morning. It was unpardonable."

    "The kiss or your horrid words afterward?" The words flew out of her
    mouth before she could stop them.

    "Both."

    "I accept your apology for your insults."

    "And the kiss?"

    Belle kept her eyes fixed on the crescent moon which shone through the
    window. "There is no need to apologize for the kiss."

    John's heart slammed into his chest. "I am not sure I understand your
    meaning, my lady," he said cautiously.

    "I only have one question." Belle tore her gaze away from the moon and
    forced herself to look at him. "Did I do something
    wrong? Something to offend you?"

    John let out a harsh laugh, unable to believe his ears. "Oh God, Belle,
    if you only knew." He raked his fingers through his hair
    and then planted his hands on his hips. "You couldn't offend me if you
    tried."

    A hundred conflicting emotions raced through Belle's heart and mind in
    the space of one second. Against