Rhys was fairly confident he'd be able to take Belle home soon. They'd been in the city longer than he'd hoped for already, but ever since the appearance of Nottingham on Belle's walking route, he'd felt the need to get her out of London. He'd started accompanying her when she took the dog to walk each morning, and they were going to a different park each day. So far, they'd avoided running into him again - but Rhys didn't dare think it was because Nottingham wasn't looking for her anymore.
Rhys had asked Belle to leave without him and return home, but she'd been adamant that she didn't want to be away from him. It was touching, and Rhys would have been worried about her nonstop either way – there was no way to truly keep her safe if Nottingham wanted to hurt her.
Neal had wanted to go out to the club, and in spite of Rhys' misgivings he knew his son had been right that Isaac was much more likely to actually sign the contracts if he had a few drinks in him. It was a calculated risk, and to that end he was in a room full of young men who were playing cards and drinking heavily.
For his part, Rhys was sitting in an armchair watching everyone else. Neal and Isaac were sitting with a group of other men at a card table laughing drunkenly at something. Eventually, the two got up and headed over to him, with Neal holding a staggering Isaac upright before depositing him in one of the chairs and sitting with them.
"I am having a wonderful time," Isaac said with a slight slur in his voice. "This is a very nice place."
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Neal replied a little more soberly. "Because you just gave those men a lot of money."
Isaac smiled and said something in reply, but it escaped Rhys. He'd thought he'd seen something out of the corner of his eye that had him unsettled – for a moment he was sure he'd seen Nottingham, but when he looked there was some other gentleman there. It must have been the liquor or the fact that the man had been on Rhys' thoughts far more often than was strictly healthy lately. It felt like his every waking hour was spent guarding against Nottingham's appearance. Perhaps Rhys was just too tired, but the sooner they left the city the better.
His head was feeling pleasantly fuzzy as he reclined further into his chair. Neal and Isaac were still talking, though Rhys noticed Isaac was doing most of the talking. Somehow, Neal had managed to turn the conversation towards the business deal and Isaac seemed far more receptive towards signing papers now that he had a few drinks in him.
Rhys smiled to himself as he studied the amber liquid in his glass. It was good scotch, though there wasn't much surprise there. Neal had always insisted on the finer things, always been intensely aware of the class differences between himself and the men who invested with them, and always tried to maintain a perfect posture of respectability in all things. Everything about Neal was proof of how well his father had done, and Rhys couldn't have been more proud.
It took Rhys a little longer than usual to realize they'd been approached by another man, and just a split second more to recognize his wife's cousin. It was probably the drink and the low light, but Rhys was actually a little pleased to see the other man. He wasn't in the mood for business and Gaston had no head for it.
"Gaston," Rhys greeted his cousin-in-law as the tall man sat with them. "What brings you out?"
"Your wife," Gaston replied cheerfully. "She's gotten it into my wife's head to take up poor relief, and Ruby has filled an entire drawing room with things she's collected. I was afraid if I stayed at home I'd be Shanghaied into helping."
Rhys chuckled at the image conjured up. He could only imagine that Ruby was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to something, and he suspected she'd probably been going a little bit stir crazy without being able to be as involved in her company as she was used to.
"Belle's been the same," Rhys replied. "But it makes her happy."
Gaston nodded, understanding the point Rhys had been trying to make; Belle was happy and making progress.
"I hate to go so early," Neal said as he stood up. "But I think Mr. Heller has had about enough."
"I'm fine," Isaac protested, even as Neal helped him to his feet. "I'm not drunk."
"Whatever you say," Neal said. "We can swing by my office on your way home, then."
Isaac's head bobbed in what seemed to be a nod and let Neal drag him outside.
"Are they going to be all right?" Gaston asked, taking another sip of his drink and looking in no particular hurry to go after the other two if they weren't.
"There's a coach," Rhys replied. "And I'll take a cab home. Neal's going to be in a hurry to get Heller to sign the paperwork if he thinks he's got him."
"That's good, then," Gaston replied, relaxing into his chair further.
The two men sat in a pleasant silence for a little while. Rhys couldn't say he'd ever been friends with Gaston but he had no reason to dislike the man and they were family now. Besides, he was in that pleasant stage of drunkenness where he was perfectly content being precisely where he was and it seemed far less pitiful to be sitting there drinking quietly with another man than by himself, even if the net amount of socialization was the same.
Rhys wasn't quite sure how long the two sat there silently, but it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour before he saw Gaston bristle and sit upright. He turned to follow his companion's line of sight and that's when he saw it: Nottingham was there. He was talking to some other men, lingering near the door and laughing uproariously about something.
"I thought I saw him earlier," Rhys said at last, only half sure he could trust his eyes. "But I thought I was just drunk."
"Apparently not," Gaston replied. "I didn't know he came here."
"Me either," Rhys said. "But this is Neal's club, not mine."
Gaston had his jaw set as he stared at the other man. Rhys didn't think those two had even seen each other in the last year, though he knew from Neal that Nottingham still held some sort of grudge against himself and Gaston over what had happened with Belle – and he couldn't imagine that Nottingham wasn't aware that the feeling was mutual.
"He's leaving," Gaston said slowly, still watching keenly. He was right; the other man had a hat tucked under his arm and was clearly saying his goodbyes to his incredibly unpleasant looking friends. Rhys suddenly had the feeling that he was seconds away from seeing a fight break out, and it was probably a testament to how much he'd had to drink but that didn't seem like such a bad idea. After all, his wife's honor had been taken and if anyone was going to defend it, it should be him, although he wouldn't turn down the assistance.
"There's a back door," Rhys said, standing up and walking towards the servant's doors. He heard Gaston following him, his steps a little heavier than usual but steady enough. It had been a long time since Rhys had been in a fist fight, and he was fairly certain the help would be invaluable. Besides, the bastard didn't deserve a fair fight – he'd hardly given Belle one, after all.
They got turned around in the servant's passages, but luckily came across a servant who didn't seem at all interested in preventing mischief, and were pointed in the right direction before stumbling out into an alley behind the building. Rhys felt the cool night air hit his lungs and suddenly his blood was racing. He felt like a thirteen-year-old again, sneaking through alleys and lying in wait to retaliate for some injustice.
Rhys led Gaston through to where the alley met the street, peeking out just in time to see Nottingham spilling out of the door of the club with laughter following him. Rhys ducked back into the shadows, praying that this wasn't a waste of an effort and that their target wouldn't simply walk the other way. He really hadn't planned this properly, and the fresh air had woken him up enough to realize that it was probably a terrible idea but he heard Nottingham's footsteps approaching and who was he to argue with fate?
Nottingham was unsteady on his feet as he passed their hiding place, but he was still much larger than Rhys and the element of surprise was the only reason Rhys could think of for why it was so easy to yank the other man into the alley by the back of his coat.
It took Nottingham a second to realize that he was under attack, but even if he'd been more alert Rhys didn't think he'd have stood a chance. Gaston was roughly Nottingham's size, and Rhys had grown up fighting people larger than him – and he was armed. He swung his cane hard at Nottingham's jaw and the other man crumpled to the ground with a whimper. Gaston was on him in a second, punching at his face while Rhys got in a few more blows to the other man's ribs.
One thing Rhys remembered from his less law abiding days was when to quit working a man over, and as soon as they hit that point, he grabbed Gaston's arm and pulled him off. The entire attack probably only lasted a minute, but by the time they'd finished Nottingham was sporting a split lip, two black eyes, and likely a few broken ribs. It was a fairly satisfying picture watching the man groaning in pain as he started to regain consciousness, but they couldn't lurk too long and risk discovery.
"Come on," Rhys said to Gaston, leading the other man out to the street, summoning a cab and climbing inside before Nottingham could have a chance to call for help. Once they were safely in the coach, Rhys looked over at his accomplice and promptly burst out in laughter at the realization of what they'd just done.
"That was extremely satisfying," Gaston admitted, rubbing his bruised knuckles. "I should have done that a year ago."
"I agree," Rhys said, examining the head of his cane for blood. "God almighty, Belle is going to kill me."
"More than likely," Gaston replied. "Although I don't see Ruby as being particularly pleased, either."
"It was still worth it," Rhys said. "Anyway, the bastard deserved it."
"He did," Gaston agreed. "Do you think he saw us, by the way?"
"Probably not," Rhys replied. "I dropped him pretty quickly, and even if he did I doubt he'll remember much."
"That's good," Gaston said. "The last thing we need is any more trouble over him."
Belle was still awake when Rhys returned home, sitting in a chair in the parlour and reading a book. He felt like an ass. He hadn't expected her to wait up for him, and he certainly wouldn't have stayed out so late if he had. She smiled when she saw him, coming to greet him with a tender kiss.
"Did you have a nice time?" she asked, pulling back to look at him.
"I did," he replied, hoping he sounded sincere. "Your cousin met us at the club, so I stayed with him when Neal went to take Isaac home."
She didn't seem to have heard him, and was instead looking at him strangely.
"Did you go upstairs before you came here?" she asked.
"No," he replied. "I came straight to find you."
"Where's your hat?" she said. "And your overcoat."
He silently cursed himself for this oversight; he'd left both at the club as he and Gaston tracked Nottingham and there hadn't been time to return and retrieve them.
"I must have forgotten them," he replied. Hopefully that would be enough.
"Wasn't there a doorman?" Belle pressed. How do you forget your hat?"
That's really what he got for marrying a smart woman, wasn't it?
"We didn't leave through the front," Rhys finally said. "We went out the servants' door."
"Why would you go out that way?"
"We saw Nottingham leaving," Rhys finally replied. "And we followed him."
There was really no sense in hiding it from her; her cousin would be trying to sneak back past his wife with bruises on his knuckles and Rhys had absolutely no doubt in his mind Ruby would share that piece of information first thing in the morning.
"You followed him," Belle said dully. "You mean you fought him."
"I wouldn't exactly call it a fight," Rhys said with a smile he hoped was endearing. "He was knocked out most of the time."
"So you attacked him?" she shouted. "You just followed him out the back door and knocked him unconscious in the street?"
"It was in an alley," Rhys shot back. "I'm not stupid."
Belle glared at him and turned quickly to walk over to look out the window.
"Is he alive?" she finally said over her shoulder. "I mean, you didn't kill him, did you?"
"He was breathing when we left him," Rhys said. "A little the worse for wear, but he'll recover."
"And neither one of you ever stopped to think what a bad idea this was?" she asked, turning to face him so he could see the tears in her eyes. "Or how it could affect all of us?"
"He deserved it," Rhys replied, trying to hold onto his righteous indignation even as guilt was beginning to creep in. "He hurt you, and he deserved to be hurt."
"Don't you dare," she replied in a quiet voice he'd never heard before. This was a sort of anger he'd never seen in his wife before, nor ever thought to expect. "Don't you dare tell me what he did to me, or what he deserves. Do you really think I haven't thought of a thousand punishments for him? Or that I haven't planned his death over and over again? I could describe it to you, all the ways I want him to suffer and the indignities I'd like to visit upon him and he would deserve every single second of it. But Rhys, this isn't about him."
She seemed shaken at her own outburst, and Rhys wanted so much to go to her but he was frozen to the spot by her anger. Even as he'd known she would be angry, he hadn't realized just how angry she could be.
"This isn't even about you," Belle finally said, seeming smaller now. "God, do you think I wanted to have to worry about him showing up to ruin my life again? What if there were witnesses? Or what if he's just smart enough to figure out who would want to hurt him? You attacked a Duke, Rhys, they don't just let you walk away from that. What if something happens to you?"
Rhys couldn't help it anymore. He quickly followed her to where she was standing and wrapped his arms around her. She didn't relax immediately, and he was on the verge of letting her go when she sighed and melted against him.
"I'm sorry, Belle," he said. "I wasn't thinking of that. I didn't mean to worry you."
"I know," she replied, clinging to him desperately. "But you should have been."
"I should have," he agreed. "I was just so angry about how scared you've been and I wanted to make him suffer for you."
And he'd had a sudden flashback to the first time he had met Nottingham and the man's obvious lack of remorse for what he'd done. He'd been laughing about Belle with his friends, and Rhys was sure that he hadn't stopped out of respect for her marriage. She didn't need to hear that, though. She didn't need to think about the worst moment of her life being a joke to anyone, even though he knew she probably suspected as much.
He felt her take a deep breath and give a little shudder, and afterward she was more relaxed.
"Did he suffer much?" she asked a little hopefully, looking up at him again.
"I knocked him unconscious almost immediately," Rhys admitted. "But he felt it when he woke up. He probably has some broken ribs, at the least. And your cousin may have broken his nose."
She smiled at that and he knew she was pleased with him in spite of herself.
"Am I forgiven?" he asked her.
"I'm still very cross," she replied. "But I'm not going to bar you from our bedroom if that's what you're worried about."
"I'm glad to hear it," he said, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her fingers. "I haven't shared a bed with Neal since he was a very little boy, but from what I remember he's quite the kicker."
Belle sighed and turned back to face the window, but this time she leaned back against him and let him hold her as she calmed down. He rubbed her shoulders and arms and it wasn't long before she was leaning against him with her head resting on his shoulder.
"I missed you today," she said quietly. "I get lonely when you're out."
"I shouldn't have gone," he said instantly. "You're more important than Isaac Heller."
"No," she replied, turning to face him. "I'm glad you went. It was important to Neal and to us. I'm just more glad that you came home is all."
"I'll always come back," he promised. "And God willing Neal may have gotten him to agree to the new terms tonight, so it shouldn't be long now before we can go back home."
Belle nodded and stood on her toes to kiss him again. There was a sense of urgency there that he hadn't felt yet that night, but he recognized it now. He deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in. She had her hands on the side of his face, and she dragged them down to his chest as she began unwinding his cravat from around his neck.
Even with her insistent fingers on his shirt, it took until she pressed her hips against his that he realized what she wanted.
"Here?" he asked her, pulling away enough to look into her eyes.
Belle giggled at his shocked question and nodded. She'd been getting bolder since they'd been in town but this would be a new experience for him. A quick glance told him the door was closed, but he couldn't decide where she planned to attempt anything besides one of the divans and in that case he would probably have to put his foot down. There was no way he was going to risk upsetting her with that, and while she would sit on a lounge with other people in the room now, he remembered how uncomfortable she'd been before.
"Sit in the chair," she said as though she'd been reading his mind. He did as she bade and she dropped down into his lap soon after. "I've been thinking about this all day."
There had been a time in their marriage when Belle would have been bashful to admit that – if she even would have. It was hard to believe how far they'd come as a pair these last few months. She'd been so frightened before, and now here she was perched in his lap kissing him and touching him all over. Her nightgown had bunched around her hips as she straddled him and he stroked his hands up and down her thighs.
She began fiddling with the closures on his trousers and he wondered just exactly which book she'd been reading to get this idea when his cock sprang free and she trailed her fingers up and down the length of it, robbing him of all higher thought. The only thing running through his mind was a need for her to keep going.
Belle rose up on her knees, putting her chest right in front of his face as she lined him up with her entrance. He couldn't resist an invitation like that, and he wrapped his arms around her back to hold her close as he licked the line of her breasts above the collar of the nightgown. She sighed, pausing to allow him time to work her breasts free and pull one pink nipple into his mouth. She let out a gasp of pleasure as he rolled the little bud between his lips and pulled gently with his teeth, and her hand came to rest on the back of his head gently. Rhys was sure he very much enjoyed this particular position; usually during their encounters he was too far away to make much use of his mouth, but this way he was free to taste her skin and that was something damn special.
Neither one spoke a word as she finally lowered herself over him, or when she rode him at a luxurious pace that felt like she had all the time in the world, or when his hand came down to tease the place at the apex of her sex that drove her over the edge. She whimpered and moaned as he used mouth and fingers to draw her pleasure out, and as she shivered around him he spilled himself inside her.
They sat like that only for a few more moments, Belle wrapped in his arms with her head on his shoulder and both of them looking wanton and disheveled. After a little while, she disengaged herself and quietly helped him to his feet. Once they were put back together, she led him to their shared bed where he spent the rest of the night marveling at the woman he had married.
The next morning, they overslept quite badly. The sun was already high in the sky when Rhys awoke and Belle began to stir. They'd slept the night tangled in each other's arms, but he was still loathe to let her go no matter how long they'd been together. She was like a goddess in the morning, and everything in him resisted releasing her.
"Good morning," she said sleepily as she realized he'd been watching her.
In reply, he simply leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"I slept well," she continued. "Did you?"
"I did," he replied, reluctantly letting her go as she scooted to the side of the bed. "Do we have time for breakfast before we leave?"
"I have to walk the dog," Belle said. "But you don't have to come with me if you're hungry."
"I can wait," he said. Truthfully, he'd just wanted to spend just a little longer with his wife before the reality of the day set in and the carriage to the park would just have to do.
She smiled and kissed him and they dressed in relative peace and collected Rose to take her to the waiting carriage.
"Excuse me, Mr. Gold?" a voice came from behind them, and Rhys turned to face the stranger.
"What can I do for you?" he asked, glancing over toward Belle who was holding the puppy protectively and watching the new arrival warily.
"My name is Officer Percival," the man explained. "I hate to do this in front of the missus, but I'm afraid I'm here to arrest you."
"No!" Belle exclaimed, grabbing Rhys' arm immediately.
"What's this about?" Rhys asked.
"We've had a complaint about an assault with attempt to murder last night," Percival said. "The victim identified you as the culprit."
Rhys looked to his wife where she stood next to him. The blood had gone out of her face and she looked on the verge of fainting or sobbing and he wasn't sure which.
"It's going to be all right," he said to her. "I promise."
"You can't go," she replied immediately, looking over at the officer standing in front of them. "He didn't do anything wrong. You have to believe me."
"There's been a complaint filed, ma'am," the man said evenly. "He was very sure of his assailant."
"It's all right," Rhys said to her as calmly as he could manage. "I'll go with him and get this all sorted out and I'll be back before dinner."
"No," Belle protested as Rhys let the officer put his hands into the cuffs. "You can't take him, please."
"Don't worry," Rhys said. "It will all work out."
The tears were falling down his wife's cheeks as he was led away. His last view of Belle as he was put into the carriage was her face in her hand as she shook with tears. He didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for doing this to her – he just hoped he hadn't lied one last time.