XI
Belle stared at her surroundings, aghast with horror. "Robert, you said this was a cellar, not a bloody dungeon."
"Technically, it is a cellar because that's what it is used for. It hasn't been used as a dungeon in two centuries," Robert explained, leading her forward along the corridor. "There's only one or two cells left which haven't been converted."
"And one of those cells is where I had the bastard tossed this morning on his arse," Jefferson fumed. "Should've strung him up in the oak by the lake."
Robert took the key ring off the wall opposite the two remaining cells and scowled at his friend. "We are not hanging Belle's brother. We are going to resolve this in as dignified a manner as possible." He unlocked the cell door and opened it to allow Belle to enter.
The new duchess set the tray she carried on the table, her eyes fighting to adjust in the dim light. "Candle please," she said, holding her hand out to Jefferson. She placed it on the table next to the tray and lit it. The cell really wasn't all that bad. At least it was clean. There was a cot against the wall with a clean mattress, a lone chair and the table. No window and a locked door, but at least it was better than any accommodations he would've received in prison.
"Auggie?" she asked softly, touching his shoulder. He'd fallen asleep again facing the wall. He started at her light touch.
"Belle?"
She seated herself in the chair and gazed at her brother sadly. "Are you alright?"
August's lip curved up in a sneer. "Lovely dress, m'dear. Am I to assume the happy event has taken place?"
"Yes, Auggie. Robert and I were married this afternoon. But that's not why I'm here. I've come to discuss our current dilemma."
"One of your own making," he hissed accusingly as he rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head.
Belle had the decency to look guilty. "I'm sorry I outed you as the highwayman. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am about that. I tried to make up for it a little."
"Thanks for that, at least," he drawled dryly as he smoothed a hand over his bruised ribs.
"I didn't want you to wake up in pain, is all. Can't you find it in your heart to forgive me?" she asked hopefully. "It's not so bad. You've avoided prison."
"What are you on about, Belle? Last I checked, I'm locked in a blasted dungeon!" he replied heatedly.
"But it's just for a bit," she rushed to explain. She loved her brother and it distressed her to see him in such a predicament, despite the fact it was one of his own making. "Robert sent his man to Portland nearly three weeks ago to investigate our parent's death. If he can prove your innocence, you will be released and sent home. Home, Auggie. You can pick up your life and be a free man."
"And you'll be stuck here in England. How lovely for you." August sat up on the cot, swinging his feet to the floor. "Married to your lovely duke and enjoying your new life. And what happens to your dear brother, you ask? I get to linger in a blasted dungeon for a month."
Belle ducked her head sheepishly, guilt rising to choke her because she had disappointed him. But he'd brought it on himself and nothing she'd said to him had had any impact on his choices. How could she be sorry for finding love with Robert, after all? She was sorry she'd hurt her brother, but she wouldn't trade her relationship with Robert for anything.
"Auggie, I'm sorry, really. We can't let you out, however. Robert doesn't want you to start stealing again and actually get caught by the authorities. It'll just be safer if you stay here with us," she explained, trying to reason with him. She laid her hand over his and recoiled. "What the hell is that?"
"What?"
"W-When I touched you just now …" she shivered, a wave of cold fear skipping down her spine.
A malicious grin curved his lips. "It's power, Belle. Remember, I share your gift."
"August, my gift has never felt like that. It's dark and ominous," she whispered, frightened of him for the first time in her life. Belle rose from the chair and took a cautious step towards the door. "There's something evil in you."
Robert had heard enough, stepping through the cell door and positioning himself between the feuding siblings. "That's enough, Belle. You've apologized and explained your plan to him. It's time to go."
August smiled and thrust out his hand as a goodwill gesture. "Don't mind us, Your Grace. Just a little family squabble. I'm willing to stay and behave myself for the duration if it means I get to go home in the end. You have my word as a gentleman. Shake on it? You know, seal the deal and all that?"
Belle's head was beginning to spin. Something was off about August. He was never this nice when backed into a corner. And then she felt it, like a cloud of dark fog swirling about her, threatening to choke her. "No, Robbie, don't touch him!" she screamed, but it was too late. August's eyes near glowed with purpose as he held Robert's hand in an iron grip.
August laughed gleefully. "Seems to me, m'dear, neither one of us is going to enjoy the coming month."
Robert stood frozen in place, a blank stare upon his handsome face, his eyes devoid of all emotion. Belle pulled him back towards the door and rounded on her brother. "What have you done, August?"
"Quite simple. While you've been fooling around with your duke, I've been keeping myself busy … busy practicing using my own gift. That night in the carriage when you blasted me with the full impact of your power, remember? Well, I realized I would need a better understanding of my own if I was to protect myself should the need arise. Unfortunately, that time is now," he sneered with smug satisfaction.
"Fine. You've somehow come into full control of your gift. What did you do to my husband!?" Belle shrieked, losing what little control she'd maintained during the interview. She was beginning to feel the panic, so tightly wound inside her, fighting to loose itself.
"I took his love for you, his lust, his desire, even his anger and shielded it. His emotions are so well cocooned, he's unable to feel anything for you. They are so well hidden, even should you reach into him with all your power you won't be able to free them. And so they shall stay as long as I'm held prisoner," he boasted, lying back on the cot and resting his head on his arms. "So run along, sister dear. I'm sure you have a lot to think about. Hell, not even Zera herself could free him, were she still alive," he said, his lips curling back into a snarl as he released a sinister laugh which made the fine hairs on her nape rise in alarm.
Belle cast her brother a scathing glare and grabbed Robert's hand in hers, pulling him into the corridor and locking the cell door behind them. "Jefferson, help me get Robbie upstairs."
August's smiling face appeared in the bars on the door. "Enjoy your wedding night, Belle. Hope it's everything you've ever dreamed of, love." His maniacal laughter followed the three of them up the corridor and into the great hall.
God's blood! Mother should've drowned him in the river when he popped his squalling head from her womb.
*.*.*
Jefferson sat Robert on the bed in the duke's bedchamber and turned fierce grey eyes on Belle. "I want to know what the fuck is going on, Belle. Now! What's happened to Robbie? It's like his soul has been sucked out of him."
"It's complicated," she said uneasily.
"Try your very best to explain it to me," he hissed, pouring himself a drink then changing his mind and handing it to Robert instead.
Robert tossed the drink back and took a deep breath, quirking a brow at Jefferson's irritation. "What's going on?" he asked, puzzled at the upheaval taking place between his wife and his friend.
"Robbie?" Belle asked, slowly approaching him as she wrung her hands in dismay. "Are you alright? How are you feeling?"
"Tired." That's it? Belle thought. One word answers from Mr. Let-me-chew-it-to-death?
"Tired? What else?" Jefferson asked. "I mean, come on, it is your wedding night."
Robert's brow furrowed in a frown, his dark eyes befuddled as his gaze swung back and forth between the two. "Yeah, just tired."
"I'm going to kill August. I can't believe he did this to us. The bastard," Belle fumed, her voice rising. She paced back and forth trying to figure out what she should do.
"What did he do?" Jefferson asked, growing more and more concerned over Belle's rising panic and Robert's lack thereof.
"August's an empath," she murmured quietly, chewing her thumb nail to shreds. It wasn't a habit she indulged in often and was a sure tell of her severe upset.
"A what?"
"An empath." Belle put her hands on either side of Jefferson's face, needing the contact to make sure her panic hadn't made her power go askew. "He can control emotions. His own and those of others."
"Bloody hell, Belle! What the hell was that?" he asked, his wide grey eyes staring at her as if he didn't know her.
Belle squashed her panic and sent a wave of pure calm towards Jefferson and he stopped trying to back away from her. "That, my dear, was the explanation you asked for. Gypsy heritage can be trifling at times. But we have bigger problems if you hadn't noticed."
"What did August do to him?"
"Well, he hasn't 'sucked out his soul', if that's what has your back up. He can't do that. What he's done is just as bad, if not worse. Something's wrong with August. His empathic power is dark now -"
"And yours?"
"Mine has never been used to hurt anyone, Jefferson. Perhaps that's why August's is so dark now … because he wanted to hurt me. He feels like I've betrayed him and he's somehow justified," she mused. She was losing her focus, trying to wrap her head around everything at once.
"For the last time, Belle. What did he do to Robbie?" the earl demanded, planting his hands on his shoulders and giving her a little shake.
Belle shook her head to clear it as Robert rose from the bed and poured himself another drink. He'd barely spared a glance in her direction, which was so unlike him. "August has taken Robbie's most powerful emotions and locked them away from me. Not even Robbie can access them."
"Have you tried?"
"I'm afraid to. Auggie said I wouldn't be able to, that I wasn't strong enough."
"Well, you have to do something. We can't just leave him like this. Abby is going to have a stroke. She's not a young woman, y'know. I don't know what this will do to her," he fretted worriedly. Jefferson was closer to Abigail Gold than he was to his own mother. He didn't want to see her health take a downward turn because of this. "Belle, please. If you think you can help him, you have to try."
"Really, Jefferson? Do you think I enjoy seeing him like this? I love him!"
Belle insisted, a tear escaping her eye to roll down her cheek. She went to Robert and pulled him over to the bed, pushing him down to sit upon it. "Robbie," she said softly. "I need you to help me."
"With what?" he asked, the scotch he'd been drinking assailing her nose, bringing back more pleasant memories.
Belle bit her lip and tried to focus on him. "Sweetheart, think about last night for me. I want you to focus on what we did in this very room last night and tell me what you feel," she murmured, opening her gift up fully, searching for anything, everything. Nothing. It was like he wasn't even in the same room with her. "Are you even trying?"
"Yes. I remember everything," he replied, his eyes dull and lackluster. "Shouldn't that have been something special?"
Belle was crying in earnest now. "Robbie, kiss me."
"Why?"
"Holy hell!" Jefferson cursed. "The same man who's been chasing you all over London, not to mention his behavior over this past weekend, has to ask why?" he hissed furiously, turning to leave.
"Where the hell are you going?"
"To kill the bastard who did this!"
"No, Jefferson!" Belle screamed, running after him and pulling him back into the room. "There's no telling what will happen to Robert if you kill my brother. His terms were fairly clear. Release, not murder. If you kill him, Robert could very well remain like this forever … not to mention I really don't want to see you swinging from a gallow's tree for murder." If there was some way to save her brother from the evil which permeated his soul, she had to try. But first she had to save her husband. "And do you really want to be responsible for his death?"
"Very much so at the moment," he hissed, raking an aggrieved hand through his mussed hair.
Belle returned to Robert's side and tried again. "Robbie, kiss me."
Robert shrugged his shoulders and cupped her face in his hands, brushing his lips to hers. Belle wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her, deepening the kiss, drawing his tongue into her mouth to tease with her own. And still she couldn't feel him … no onslaught of raw desire, no overwhelming heat coiling and burgeoning between them … nothing. His passion had been stolen from her. She reached out to him until she was dizzy with the sheer force of her will. Nothing. Robert set her away from him gently and looked down at her. Nothing.
Belle stepped away from him, her face awash with horror. She'd lost him because of August's vindictiveness. And then all went black as she fainted into Jefferson's arms, her mind forcing her to rest and heal from the power she'd exerted.
*.*.*
The fire was the only source of light in the massive room when Belle awoke some time later. Robert was lying on his stomach, turned away from her, the sheets riding low on his hips. What was she going to do about him? How was she going to help him? A tear slid down her cheek as she reached out and ran her hand down the long length of his back, reveling in the feel of her palm on his bare skin. She reached out to him with her gift and recoiled, her head throbbing painfully. Well, just shit! she cursed silently. She hadn't realized how much emotion she'd been pulling from him of late. It's like she was fueled by his love, his passion and now it was gone.
It's within you, Belle. Belle started, sitting up in the big bed and searching the shadows. She could almost hear her mother's sweet voice. Shaking herself mentally, she tried to focus on the memory through the haze of pain in her head.
She had been nine years old and August had been teasing her, she remembered, pulling at the memory and gathering it close until she could see it in detail.
Irina gathered her close and stroked Belle's hair. "It's within you, Belle."
"But I don't want it, Mama. August said my gift is puny and I shouldn't even have it. He said I will never be as strong as he is," she'd complained.
Irina cupped Belle's face in her hands, her gaze intense. "Listen to me, my angel, very carefully. August takes his gift for granted. My brother was the same. He let it consume him until it made him dark and evil. That is why we do not speak of him. He was banished because he misused his gift and people were hurt."
"Why, Mama? Why would he want to hurt someone?"
"Because he let the darkness in, Belle. Your gift is special. It makes you special, but only if you use it for good. You mustn't ever use it for evil. Never to hurt someone. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mama."
"I fear for your brother, Belle. I fear one day he may be desperate enough to use it for harm. Promise me. Promise me you will protect him, Belle. Use your spark."
"My spark?"
"That is what your grandmother always called my gift. She said if I harnessed my 'spark' and focused it with all my strength, I could do anything. It is within you, Belle."
"What if I don't want it within me, Mama?"
"You don't have a choice, my angel. I didn't have a choice either when I wanted my mother to rid me of it. Someday, you will be thankful for it. That day when you meet the man who will hold your heart. His love will only make you stronger. His love will fuel you until you won't be able to live without the other."
"How do you know, Mama?"
"Because it happened to me when I met your father. Because it was prophesied by my mother. And no one ever doubted Zera Romanovsky."
*.*.*
"God's teeth! That's it!" Belle cried, throwing the bedcovers back and getting out of bed. Where the hell were her clothes? Robert must have just removed her wedding gown and threw the covers over her before he'd gone to sleep. Some wedding night, she thought, cursing her brother all over again. She stalked angrily to her room and threw open the wardrobe, grabbing the first dress she could get her hands on and pulling it over her head.
Robert touched her shoulder as she was sliding her feet into a pair of slippers, startling her. This would not do at all. He'd never before been able to sneak up on her without her being besieged by his emotions. She grabbed his forearm to steady herself, cringing at the coldness of his skin.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked blandly, only mildly curious.
Belle smoothed his hair away from his eyes and kissed him tenderly. "I'm going to fix this mess, Robbie. I promise," she vowed. His hands gripped her arms and set her away from him. "I love you," she whispered, tears coursing down her face.
"Belle, I -"
"I know, my love. I know," she whispered brokenly, nearly choking on the lump in her throat. "Go back to bed." She left him standing there, her heart breaking for him. She couldn't give up. He'd fought so hard to get her to love him, to marry him. She couldn't give that up because August wanted to be an ass of the highest caliber. She would find a way to help her husband.
And, she decided, she would need help. Belle pulled her cloak about her shoulders and marched across the hall to Jefferson's room, not bothering to knock. She shook his shoulder and he moaned sleepily.
"Jefferson. Jeff, wake up!" she called loudly, shaking him again.
"What! I swear she didn't tell me she was married!" he shouted, rolling out of the other side of the bed. He raked a hand through his hair, recognizing Belle. He grinned sheepishly.
"Really?" she asked, arching an auburn brow and stifling a hysterical giggle.
"Yes, well … what're you doing in here in the middle of the night?"
"Come on. I need your help," she said, collecting a shirt from the dresser and tossing it to him. "I think I may have an idea to help Robbie."
Jefferson pulled his shirt on and started on the buttons. "I was thinking about that. Why don't you just free your brother? Then Robbie would be back to normal."
"Because I promised Robbie I wouldn't. When we made our bargain, it was clearly understood August would remain here until Lord Campbell returned from Portland. Now that he's not himself, I can't go against his wishes. I have to try it my way," she insisted adamantly, tossing his jacket at him. "Besides, there's no guarantee August won't go back on his word, not mired in darkness as he is."
"What, no waistcoat?" he deadpanned, teasing her as if she were used to invading his private quarters in the dead of night.
"Jefferson!"
The earl grinned and pulled his boots on. "Alright, what're we doing?"
"I need salt, lots of salt and some candles."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Don't ask," she warned, making her way down the servant's stairs to the kitchen corridor. She found the pantry in the dim light of the oil lamp she carried and filled a small sack with salt. All that was left were the candles she found on a shelf. "Alright, let's go."
"Where?"
"To the lake."
"We're going swimming?"
"No, idiot!" she admonished, rolling her eyes.
Jefferson caught her upper arm in a firm grasp and pulled her to a halt at the kitchen door. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what going to the lake has to do with helping Robbie."
"It's not so much the lake, but the eight-hundred-year-old oak which sits at its edge."
"What?" he asked, gaping at her in confusion.
Belle was getting exasperated having to explain every detail to the man. "Just trust me. I promise you'll understand." She looked up at him dubiously. "Well, I'm hoping you understand, anyway."
Jefferson quirked one dark brow at her and she fought back a stab of pain in her chest, the affectation so reminding her of Robert.
"Have you ever been to a séance?"
*.*.*
"You do know they still burn witches at the stake," Jefferson drawled in a lazy voice as he helped Belle spread a blanket under the great oak tree.
"They do not," she protested, only half believing that statement. "Besides, I'm not a witch."
"Uh-huh," he murmured dubiously.
Belle set the candles at the four corners of the blanket and lit them, placing herself at the very center of the blanket and making herself as comfortable as possible. "Jefferson, take the salt and form a circle around the blanket."
Jefferson looked at her skeptically, but did as he was told. "Why'd we have to come all the way out here? Couldn't we have done this in Robert's study? Or the drawing room? Or any room containing a full decanter of scotch?" he grumbled quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of anyone who might be up in the middle of the night and lurking about. "I can see it now. Did you hear about Lord Madden cavorting in the middle of the night with the duchess of Sheffield? Robert will just love that one."
"Jefferson! Just relax, alright? The oak tree is sacred. It will offer protection, just as the lake and its cleansing properties will offer me strength." Belle closed her eyes and let the tension drain from her.
"Protection from what?" he asked, but she refused to answer.
"And Jefferson?"
"Yeah?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pocket to still their trembling.
"No matter what happens, don't cross the salt line."
Belle concentrated on her breathing, deep breaths, forcing herself to a deep calm. She pulled her gift into a ball, her head beginning to spin with the effort. Slowly, she released it, imagining moving it outside her body. She pictured her grandmother as she'd been before her death, calling to her.
"Zera. I summon thee. Blood of my blood, come to me," she chanted in a low voice. She could feel Jefferson watching her, but she pushed him to the back of her mind, focusing on her quest. "Zera Romanovsky, I summon thee. Blood of my blood, come to me."
The candles flickered in the sudden breeze and she prayed they would stay lit, the flames seeming to grow brighter. Belle remained motionless, a shiver coursing through her as the breeze grew cooler. And then she felt her, her grandmother, matriarch of the Romanovsky gypsy clan.
"I seek your help," Belle whispered, bowing her head as a show of respect. She kept her eyes closed, listening with her heart.
"What is it you wish to know, dear one?" the ethereal voice asked.
"My brother has -"
"Your brother has given in to the darkness. He has taken something precious from you and you seek the knowledge to get it back, yes?" The faintly glowing form of Belle's grandmother wavered before her, a soothing, comforting presence rather than something to be afraid of.
"Yes," Belle answered, a tear sliding down her cheek. "I fear I am not strong enough to save him."
"You are trying too hard, my daughter," Zera intoned, her voice whispering over Belle and infusing her with strength. "It is within you to save your love. Gather your strength to you and harness its power."
"I've tried."
"You are trying to return him to himself all at once. This is a powerful shield your brother has used. You must break through it slowly. Chip away at the foundation and it will weaken until it crumbles to dust in your hands."
"One emotion at a time," Belle said aloud. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, the connection broken. She whispered a silent prayer, thanking her grandmother for her help and rose from the blanket, gathering it and the candles together to return to the castle.
Jefferson watched her warily, a bit in awe at this woman Robert had chosen to spend his life with. There was no doubt it wouldn't be dull. "Well?"
Belle's teeth were chattering from the cold. She pulled her cloak about her more securely and smiled at Jefferson. "I have my answer. I think I may be able to do it, but it's going to take a bit of time."
"How much time?"
"Maybe a week or two."
"Bloody hell!" he cursed, pacing away from her in his agitation. "Belle, he has business to conduct. How is he supposed to go about his duties in such a state?"
"Cheer up, Jeff. At least you get to watch the show," she teased, excited she now had the knowledge to bring Robert back to her. "We'll just have to reschedule his business dealings until we resolve this matter. We've just been married. I'm sure people will understand his absence. Just promise me you won't interfere with my unorthodox approach."
"Really, Belle. I thought you knew me better than that," he said with a wry grin. "If you can bring our Robbie back, I'll do more than interfere, I'll help."
*.*.*
The sun was barely peeking through the curtains when Robert woke to find Belle splayed across his chest, her hair tickling his nose. Her right hand was tangled in his hair, her left tucked under his back and her leg thrown over both of his. There was no way he'd be able to get up without waking her. He gazed down at her face, trying to see her clearly in the dim light. She was so lovely, her lashes making half-moons on her cheeks. Why couldn't he feel anything for her? He'd married her, what he'd wanted for weeks, he knew. And yet he felt nothing but indifference when he looked at her. What the hell had Whitmore done to him?
Belle moaned softly in her sleep and snuffled her face against his neck, pressing her lips below his ear. "Robbie," she whispered, her warm breath caressing his ear.
Robert frowned, his brows drawing together, trying to rally his emotions. He wanted to feel the need he knew had been there just yesterday. Nothing. He felt dead inside, the same way he'd felt before she had come into his life. He'd hoped never to feel that way again. Belle shifted against him and kissed his neck where his pulse beat a steady rhythm.
"Belle?" he asked quietly.
"Hmm," she murmured, kissing his jaw.
"What're you doing?"
"Kissing my husband." She gazed up at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes and kissed the corner of his mouth.
Robert untangled himself from her limbs and sat up on the side of the bed, raking his hand through his long hair. Belle flopped back onto the pillows and sighed with frustration, reaching out with her gift, enveloping him with her love only to have it rebound on her. She wanted to stamp her foot in irritation. She'd even tried to get through to him as he'd slept. The shield was just too strong.
"Belle?" he asked, his voice flat.
"What, love?"
"What's wrong with me? Why can't I feel anything? I feel dead inside." The question was like a knife to her heart.
"Because, my brother is being vindictive and took away your emotions, or rather blocked them," she said softly, running her hand over his broad back, trying to soothe him. "This is his way of hurting me, but I'm going to fix this. I promise," she vowed.
"How?"
"Don't you worry about that. Just trust me." Belle moved off the bed to stand between his knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Don't push me away," she said, brushing the hair away from his eyes. "Don't close yourself off from me, alright?"
"I remember loving you, Belle," he murmured, pressing his face into her throat. "I remember everything. I just can't remember how it felt."
"You w-will, Robbie," she whispered softly against his hair, her voice breaking. "You will, I promise. It's just going to take time."
Robert wrapped his arms around her slim waist and pulled her closer, letting her comfort him and trying his damnedest to offer it in return. "I trust you, Belle."
*.*.*
The dowager duchess and Jefferson were waiting for them in the informal dining room when they arrived. Abigail rose from her chair and hugged her son, her eyes critically taking in his appearance. "My darling boy," she sniffed.
Belle cast a scathing glare at Jefferson. "You told her?"
Jefferson shrugged. "You try keeping something from the old girl. She was bound to find out sooner or later, anyway," he defended around a mouth full of scrambled eggs.
"Of course, he told me. Belle, you neglected to mention this aspect of your gift," Abigail scolded.
"Abby, I assure you I would never use it for harm. I don't know what's wrong with August or why he'd want to hurt us like this."
"Let him go. I want my son back, just as I'm sure you want your husband back. Let Mr. Whitmore go," Abigail hissed lowly.
"No." Robert said, his tone brooking no objection. "He's not going anywhere until I can personally put him on a ship bound for Massachusetts. Whether he goes home to Portland or parts unknown is not our concern after that."
Abigail frowned into her tea, fighting back tears as she watched Robert sit there going through the motions of eating breakfast, his eyes devoid of any emotion. What poor Belle must be going through, she thought sadly.
Belle smiled brightly at Abigail and Jefferson and projected her thoughts directly into their minds. "Play along."
Jefferson nearly choked on the bit of sausage he was chewing and grabbed for his orange juice, casting his wide blue eyes on her in shock.
"Robbie, love?" Belle asked softly, casting him a doe-eyed expression which otherwise would have had him on full alert.
"Hmm?" he mumbled, pushing his plate aside. At least he hadn't lost his appetite.
"I was thinking about how much I enjoyed this past weekend," Belle began, her eyes alight with mischief. She ignored the raised brows from Abigail and Jefferson and tried to hide a grin. "Why don't we go to London for the remainder of the season? I'd like to host a ball at the townhouse." Which was an outright lie, considering how much she abhorred the balls and parties she'd been forced to attend. "I'm sure everyone feels slighted they weren't invited to our wedding and we can share the joy of our marriage with our friends and acquaintances."
"No," Robert said, flatly refusing.
"B-Belle, that is a splendid idea," Abigail chimed in, unsure of where she was going with this, but figuring it couldn't hurt to lend a hand.
"No." Robert's brows drew together in a deep frown.
Belle reached out and touched the shield with her gift, feeling it waver slightly beneath her tentative touch. Her eyes flared, her mind working quickly. "We would only invite about a hundred guests or so. What do you think, Abby?"
"Absolutely not," Robert replied, his voice rising.
The shield wavered and shifted, and Belle's smile widened.
"Oh, yes, Belle. That's an acceptable number. And of course, we'll have to order you a new wardrobe befitting your new station. It will be the perfect opportunity to introduce the two of you to society as a married couple," Abigail gushed excitedly, finally seeing what Belle was doing. Robert hated the London season and the thought of spending his hard-earned money on so much frivolity had him seeing red.
"No ball," Robert snarled vehemently, rising to his feet and tossing his napkin on the table. "No guests." His voice was rising. "No shopping!" he yelled.
And the shield around his anger crumbled to dust. Belle sat back with a satisfied smile and rubbed her aching temples. Robert stormed from the dining room and stalked down the hall to his study, slamming the door behind him.
"Belle, that was bloody brilliant," Jefferson said, finishing his juice.
"One down, three to go," she groaned, resting her aching head against the back of the chair. "Too bad it's going to take a ball to break through to the others."
"You were serious?" Abigail asked in alarm. Belle nodded. "But you saw how angry he was. He hates balls and parties with a passion. Oh. I see."
"I thought his anger would be the easiest to reach, but it still took a lot out of me. Abby, Jefferson, I'm not going to be able to do this without your help. Can I depend on you both?" Belle asked wearily, rubbing absently at her temples.
Jefferson and the dowager nodded, confident in her abilities after what they'd just witnessed. "Well, Belle," Jefferson drawled lazily. "I hope you know what you're doing. Robert's anger without his love to temper it isn't going to be an easy thing to live with, and planning a ball is going to really bring it out of him."
"Jefferson, no man likes to see his wife spend his money," Abigail chuckled, sipping her tea.
Jefferson snorted. "Since when is an inheritance hard-earned?"
"Someone had to earn it," Abigail smirked. "And you know Robbie's gift with expanding his fortune. He doesn't have a lazy bone in his body." Changing the subject, Abigail rose from the table. "Now if you will both excuse me, I will see to the preparations for our trip to London."
Belle groaned. She didn't want to go back to London. She loathed the town and all its unsavory aspects. She wanted to stay here and enjoy her husband, but thanks to her meddling brother, she couldn't have any peace. Belle rose from the table and left in search of one of Abigail's headache powders. She paused next to Jefferson on her way out.
"Just think, Jeff. While we're in London, you'll have the opportunity to see Emma." And with that she left him there with his mouth gaping open in horror.
A/N: Well, my darlings, did you enjoy it? Wait! Stop! Put away the torches and pitchforks. Next chapter things get much MUCH better. I promise. You only have to wait a week for the next update. Seriously! I know I'm just horrible lol. Here's wishing you all a very Happy Christmas. I pray you are all safe and happy and blessed during the holiday season. See you next time (o: Thank you all for sticking with me during the writing process and lending your support … xoxoxox.
Thank you so much to all this week's reviewers, some who are new to my fics. Your support and kind words are soooo appreciated! Wondermorena, RaFire, MyraValhallah, Songbird1986, Melstrife, emospritelet, guest, Inanna, scorpion22, thecadencerose, Twyla Mercedes, CLK-it, Erik'sTrueAngel, opera77 (thank you for the history lesson. It was much appreciated), crazykat77, NoneOfYourConcern and Jokerandharley. Love you all.