Edward lay in bed, his head a jumble of thoughts, yet for once they were not all unpleasant. The boxing club had, at first glance, seemed a ridiculous idea. Good Lord, he was a marquess; his father would spin in his grave. But then, on reflection, it had been many years since Edward had given a damn what his father thought, even when the old buzzard had been alive.
He’d enjoyed being in the ring again, and Belle was right, there were some who showed a natural talent. He’d noted an older fellow standing at the back of the barn, too proud to step forward and take part yet, but he’d been built like an ox. Edward was informed by a more loquacious younger boy that Ned Callow worked the fields, and could fell any man who stood up with him with a single blow. Looking at the size of his fists, Edward could well believe it, and wondered how long it would take to knock the fellow into shape. It would be good to have a decent opponent again.
He felt his mouth curve into a grin as he remembered Belle standing on the side lines, watching him with such obvious admiration that it had been hard to concentrate at all. Despite everything he’d said about women and boxing, he had to admit that he enjoyed her watching him immensely, more than he would likely ever admit. That she had bought a book on boxing, and then gone out to create this new venture for him ... A strange sensation wrapped around his heart and held it tight.
Belle seemed to know him better than he knew himself. When he got caught in the past and frozen up as his surroundings overwhelmed him, she seemed to know just what to do. She knew how to help him hold on to the moment and not give into the panic, not drown under the weight of memories.
Edward turned his head as Belle stirred in her sleep beside him. He moved onto his side, watching her in the light of the fire as a new and unfamiliar sensation stole over him. He felt possessive, he realised, and he was in grave danger of falling head over heels for his wife. In all honesty, he knew that it had begun long since, and whilst he might have fought against it and denied it, he knew that he could do so no longer. Not without hurting her, and that he could not do. Not now. She had given him too much.
He loved her, he realised, and he wanted to love her, but he also truly didn’t want to, at the same time. The more that terrifying emotion took a hold of him, the more the fear of losing her increased. What if he drove her away, what if he did or said something unforgivable in one of his damnable fits of temper? What if something happened to her? She could be hurt, she could die having his child ... Panic began to claw at his throat and his breath came faster.
“Hush, love,” murmured a sleepy voice beside him as Belle’s hand reached and slid over his chest, covering his heart. “Come here.”
Edward went willingly, relishing the warmth and the comfort of her embrace, and suddenly his fears diminished. They were still there, lingering at the edge of his mind, but they were no longer overwhelming.
He pressed his mouth to hers and smiled as she huffed against his lips. “Sleepy ...” she mumbled.
“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice low and urgent as he kissed her again, his hands exploring the lush curves hidden beneath the covers, and he realised he was happy. It was unlikely and extraordinary, but it was true. “You’re not the least bit sleepy,” he chuckled, kissing a path down her neck as she sighed and wound her arms around him, her hands in his hair tugging until he raised his head and gave her the kiss she was searching for.
“No,” she said, smiling against his mouth. “You’re quite right, of course. I’m not sleepy at all.”
***
Belle sighed as she looked out of the bedroom window to see Crecy galloping off into the distance, the horse blowing clouds on the frosty morning air. Sipping at her chocolate, she wondered what it was that was making her so anxious.
“She certainly loves to ride.”
Turning and finding Edward standing close behind her, she leaned her head back for a kiss.
“Mmm, you taste of chocolate,” he murmured, making her shiver.
“Stop that, Edward,” she scolded, though she was smiling, which rather spoiled the effect. “We have work to do.”
As it was Boxing Day, the servants had the day off, and would gather downstairs shortly to receive their gifts and Christmas boxes. Belle had already reduced her maid Mary to a blubbering wreck by giving her all of her old garments, and throwing in a few things that were not old at all but that she wanted to give. She would also receive a generous Christmas box. Mary had proven herself loyal, and had gone a long way to making Belle feel at home when she had been adrift. She wouldn’t forget that.
Her eyes, however, were drawn back to the horizon as Crecy disappeared into the woodland.
“You worry for her.”
Belle nodded. “She’s been my responsibility since she was three,” she said, her tone wistful. “I know I’m only six years older, but sometimes I feel more like her mother than her sister. She’s never really known any other but me, you see. Even when her mother lived, the woman wasn’t interested in Crecy.”
Edward wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest and resting his head atop hers. “You did all of this for her, didn’t you?” he said, his voice low. “Trying to marry poor old Percy - you wouldn’t have been happy with him, you know,” he added, and, with delight, she thought she detected just a trace of jealousy behind the words. “He could never have handled you and that dreadful temper of yours.”
Belle snorted as he gave her a rueful grin, and then his face grew serious. “But you weren’t thinking of your own happiness at all, were you?”
Moving so that she could look up at him, Belle turned in his arms, her hands smoothing over the silk of his waistcoat, feeling the heat of him beneath her palms. “I thought about being safe,” she admitted. “About not worrying if we would have a roof over our heads or money to buy the basic necessities. Aunt Grimble never made any secret of the fact that she intended to throw me out, and ...” Her stomach clenched in revulsion as she remembered once more the plans the awful woman had for Crecy. “I dread to think how Crecy would have ended. Sold to the highest bidder, I imagine.”
She shuddered and leaned her head on Edward’s chest. “You saved us.”
Edward snorted, his tone amused. “I did no such thing, and you know it.” He lifted her head with his fingers, looking down into her face with a grave expression. “Violette saved you, and then ... then you saved me.”
Belle smiled, quite dazed by the sincerity of his words. “A compromise, then.” The words were a whisper as she reached out to lay a hand against his cheek. “Let us say that we saved each other,” she whispered, and reached up for another kiss.
Chapter 29
“Wherein time passes, Edward’s temper burns, Belle has a secret, and a fire blazes out of control.”
Spring
15th April, 1818