Author's note: I am a bit nervous about this chapter haha…. but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I wanted to make sure it was in character but also interesting. Rest assured, the story is about to kick up a notch, so I hope you will all stick around for it! Thank you so much for keeping with this story for all these years, I was so grateful. Happy reading everyone!

Chapter 44

The Prince silently turned her face toward him and kissed her. It was with a supressed sense of urgency, and Belle could feel both the fragility and certainty within his movements. Contradicting elements which revealed what she already knew deep within herself; that he had finally pulled down any final barriers that still remained between them. Finally, he was giving himself to her, within the silence of his castle on a day like any other, as if it were no big matter at all.

His touch was soft and tender, his lips caressing hers gently, as much patient as she felt ignorant. The moment did not last forever, and despite his initial urgency, she felt his jagged breath against her cheek as he released her slowly, as though he were preventing himself from continuing. His blue eyes were ablaze with an intensity that went far beyond the simple realm of normal passion and his usual expression of torment had been replaced by something resembling certainty. It was entirely new and yet powerful at the same time, and Belle felt as if she were seeing him as he had always intended to be, with a surety that was almost blinding.

As his hand cupped her face once more, the Duke's thumb trailed down till it reached the bottom of her throat. The sensitivity and vulnerability Belle felt in that moment could not be easily hidden, and the Prince, sensing it, shook his head in response, as if a silent thought passed through his mind.

"It is not enough," he said with utter transparency as he lifted his narrowed gaze to Belle's eyes once more and came closer still, letting his other hand grasp the other side of her face, their knees nearly touching.

"You have no idea how hard it has been for me," he whispered as he watched her fluttering eyes, the embarrassment and expressions no longer hidden away as he kept her gaze on him, refusing to let her retreat back into the manners and niceties they had so far managed to uphold for proprieties sake.

"To stop myself," he said hoarsely, "to stop myself from making what I secretly dream a reality. To not scare you away with the perverse and beautiful thoughts that have tormented me every night since I first met you."

"It is real," replied Belle in earnest as she lifted her own hand to caress his marble-like skin, his eyes widening in surprise as she let herself touch his cheek with a tenderness that was clearly foreign to him.

"This is real Adam," she whispered, as she lifted herself up, so his hands slipped down, past her shoulders till they held her waist. Her skirts raised up as she put her knee on the divan, her hand still holding the Duke's cheek as she looked down at him.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, staring up at her with a dazed expression as she smiled in response, coming closer still as she cupped his face with both hands.

"I want to kiss you," whispered Belle, daring to speak what she truly felt, despite it being entirely unladylike and out of propriety. "I want to touch you."

"Belle, wait, I do not think I can-"

"No more thinking," replied Belle with a slight shake of her head before letting her lips touch his again, this time with less hesitancy. She did not know what she was doing, but she still remembered how his mouth had captured hers in the dining room that fateful night, and she remembered how he had coaxed her to open up to him.

"Belle," she heard him moan as he grasped her waist tighter, the sound unlike anything she heard before, the tone that of almost desperation and utter vulnerability. As she kissed him, she let herself become more daring, and as the proximity between the two of them closed even further, she felt his inhibitions slowly give way and his breath became more haggard.

"More," she thought she heard him mutter as she let her tongue slip out of his mouth, before she felt herself being lifted up as if she weighed no more than a piece of parchment before being put down against the divan. The Prince crouched above her, his expression hidden in darkness within the fading light of twilight and the dying embers, his hands taking hold of her hips in a way which displayed more of the possessive side of his nature.

"You should not have done that," he said quietly, the sudden calmness of his demeanour sending shivers down Belle's spine. "You do not understand the nature of men. You must not provoke them, especially if you are as naïve as you are."

He was not idle as he spoke, his hand once more tracing Belle gently, but this time instead of touching her hand, his fingers gently danced across her neck and down to her shoulder, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she felt him touch her in an almost casual manner, reminding her of the Prince in the ballroom, a man hidden behind a mask.

Yet as she looked up at him, she saw he was not that man, for a grim line appeared across his mouth as he stared at her, a hesitancy within his gaze as he let his hand further down, daring to touch just above the barrier of her dress, the soft flesh of her rising breast hot against his gaze.

"I have imagined you any number of ways," muttered the Prince as Belle continued to watch him stare at his hand, which went beyond the fabric, the thumb tracing over where her breast was, and despite the fabric which barred his touch, Belle still felt it and knew it was indecent.

Indecent, and yet she could not help but feel it was right as the Prince lent his arm against the divan, letting his body fall so he was mere inches away from her.

"Are you not afraid, Belle?" he whispered quietly as he observed her, so close that she could see how long his eyelashes were, their golden hue unable to mask his dark gaze as his thumb traced her bottom lip again.

"No," she replied, her voice soft. "I trust you."

"Don't," he replied roughly as his eyes narrowed, his grip tightening even further as if to warn her, his fingers on her waist like iron and Belle wondered whether they would leave a mark.

"You will never hurt me," she said, her voice a little firmer as she lifted her own hand and touched his neck, her eyes trailing his cravat which strangely suddenly looked very constraining now. "I have also dreamt of you."

"Don't say that," said the Prince, the familiar torment re-entering his voice as Belle subtlety began to undo the tight fabric, his blue eyes uneasy as he stared at her.

"And I have secretly thought many things too," continued Belle, undeterred as she pulled the loose material away, exposing his neck to her as she let her fingers fall to the buttons of his shirt. "Some which might even make you question my innocence."

She could not believe what she was doing but in the haze she was under she watched as her hands hastily undid the buttons as far as they could, fearful that the man's hand might suddenly grasp hers to make her stop. Yet he did nothing, still staring at her with apprehension, his figure hardly moving as if he were trying to supress something.

"Belle, you must stop," he said through gritted teeth before he let out an uncontrolled breath, for she lifted herself up, forcing him to let go also, so they sat equal on the divan, facing each other. He was all growl and no bite, and it took only the gentle touch of her hand to see the cold exterior melt away.

Belle said nothing as she wordlessly let her hands fall again against his chest, now half exposed to reveal golden hair underneath which shone like bronze against the firelight. Her fingers gently caressed against his warm chest, sliding against the soft hair as she felt the strong beat of his heart which was still just as volatile as before, his expression grave as he continued to stare at her silently. That gaze was unwavering and the seriousness of it meant it was an image that would remain engrained in Belle's mind until the day she died.

She was scared now. Not of him, but of herself. Of the thoughts and feelings she felt, now that she was unable to deny them anymore. Moreover, she was afraid of what she wanted to say, for fear that he would finally see she was not the beacon of purity that he had made her out to be, that she desired him just like any other woman who had looked upon him in the past. She was afraid he would turn away in disgust, as illogical as it sounded.

It seemed that along with love came a lot of fear as well.

But also the need to be true.

"I want you," she whispered, the words almost painful as she spoke them, just as she felt her vision blur and her lips parted. Before he could give any response, she lent down, kissed the side of his neck, which produced another illiterate groan from him, before her mouth travelled down towards his chest, her lips gently kissing him each step of the way, leaving her mark as her fingers gripped hold of his shirt.

"Belle," she could hear him saying in half-hearted protest, and astonishingly she found herself feeling frustration as her hands went lower, only to find the fabric of his waist coat barring the way and despite herself she could not help but notice something else and as she looked down she gasped before-

"I told you to stop," stammered the Prince as he took hold of her arm, her gaze immediately shooting up in astonishment as he looked upon her with a dark look in his eyes. "I only have so much self-restraint. Do not tempt me this way unless you want what is to follow."

"What is to follow," she repeated as she blinked.

She knew some of what that entailed. She grew up in a village full of farmers for god's sake and was not of the gentile class. She was not ignorant.

Yet through her haste to throw all sense of decorum aside, she had not quite understood just how quickly things could escalate until she had stared at…

She felt herself blush just as the Prince let out another groan of frustration, his voice deeper and louder as he let his head bow against her left shoulder, just as his own frame began to shake.

It took a moment for Belle to realize that the Duke was, in fact, laughing.

"You are making fun of me!" she exclaimed as just he lifted himself up, a wide but exhausted smile on his face as he stared at her with mirth and unrecognizable warmth in his eyes.

"No, darling, of course not," he sighed, the expression of tenderness hardly noticed by him as Belle stared at him incredulously. "It is just that if we stay within each other's vicinity much longer, you shan't be an innocent much longer."

"I know how this works!" retorted Belle as she sat up, the earlier dream-like hues of, well, whatever it was, slightly ebbing away as the Prince continued to give her a radiant smile that would have sent most debutantes fainting in response to such a display. He was handsome enough as it was, but much to Belle's annoyance, without a permanent scowl on his face, it only served to make him look all the more handsome, and dare she say it, like the very angels which she imagined to be up in the heavens.

Unthinkable, when she had claimed for him to be the opposite nearly a year ago.

"I'm afraid I must doubt that claim, judging by your current response," replied the Prince even as he gazed at her in manner which could only be described as adoration, for he almost looked sleepy, as if he had not noticed how annoyed she was with him.

"Do not patronise me!" said Belle, trying to blink away the tears that still remained in her eyes, much to her chagrin. When then did not work, she was left with no choice but to wipe them, ashamedly, with the corner of her sleeve, just as the Prince's expression shifted, though Belle did not notice it.

"I'm not making fun," he murmured as he stopped her hasty movements, taking hold of her shoulders and lifting his own hand to rub her tears away. "And I know you are a well-read grown-up woman, and I wouldn't dare question your intelligence. But when I take you, and I will take you Belle, I will have you entirely or not at all."

Belle blinked as she listened to the Prince's soft but firm words, his hand still gently stroking her cheek as she looked up at him bewildered.

"But-" she stammered as he continued to look at her steadily, "but what you're saying, I mean, I am right to understand you mean to-"

The Duke silenced her once again, capturing her mouth with his with an intensity which contradicted his calm exterior, his movements more persuasive than before as he coaxed her mouth open and she let him touch her again, despite still not quite understanding what to do. Even so she felt his affection, his patience as she felt a strange mixture of fear and desire while he explored her, and it was after few more slow, loving touches between her tongue and his that he released, letting out a jagged breath as he did so, his hands still on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice strangely blunt and uncontrolled, so much so it sounded oddly loud after all their whispers and murmurs to each other. "I didn't mean to do that, it was just, after all this time of not touching you, suddenly I…"

"Can't stop?" finished Belle as a playful smile appeared on her face, her dark brown eyes shining with mirth as she placed her hand on top of his, only to find it shaking slightly.

"You shall be the death of me," he said low voice as he placed a chaste kiss on the top of her forehead, turning away from her so he sat back on the divan and stared into the fire. He was gritting his teeth.

It was odd, but within the space of a brief amount of time, he suddenly looked different. Belle could not place exactly what it was about him that was different, but he was. He seemed more familiar, more…

Belle did not know, and it was not something she would know immediately, but it was a feeling she would come to know all too well in the years that were to follow.

"Belle," he said, though he still stared into the fire, trying to calm himself she thought, "we are each at a crossroads. I have as much to learn as you do, as the new Duke. I want to be able to take care of you, support you to the absolute capacity of my capabilities, and as I am now…"

"You are more than enough," replied Belle, trying to reassure him as he turned toward her, the serious expression lessening slightly as he gave her a soft smile which seemed to be reserved just for her.

"I cannot tell you how much those words mean to me Belle," said the Duke before his expression changed. "But I need to be better. And you need time right now- No, please, let me finish. My aunt is right, and I want to be able to do this on my own, be able to stand on my own two feet as she calls it. I need to fix this castle, my county, my reputation. And Belle, there are going to be so many changes in your world, and until everything is settled, especially thinking about your father, I think it best if we…"

"If we what?" pressed Belle, feeling that dreaded sense of fear and agitation rise within herself, so rapid she thought she must be mad. "I did not get a chance to say it properly to you before, but I will now."

"Say what?" asked the Prince patiently, his eyes kind as he looked upon, his arm stretching out across the divan behind her back.

Belle looked back at him hesitantly. It was stupid, after everything that just passed, that she should feel nervous, but she was. His expression turned quizzical just as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I love you!" she confessed, her words coming out almost as if she were shouting, sounding almost desperate and not at all in the composed manner she had hoped for. God knows what her face looked like, but Adam- the Duke, the Duke whose name was Adam, something Belle had yet to get used to, stared at her in a manner that suggested he was quite dumbstruck, for he said nothing, and his eyes suddenly turned quite blank.

"Y-Your Highness?" said Belle carefully, which seemed to stir something within him, for he turned his eyes sharply towards her, an intense, almost angry expression on his face.

"Jesus Belle," he said roughly as he reached up towards his chest, somewhere where she realized his heart was. "Are you really trying to kill me?"

"W-What?"

"You can't just," he blurted out before stopping and starting again but not before taking a large breath, "You can't just spring something like that on me with no warning!"

"But- but you said the same thing to me!" stammered Belle as she gestured, quite unnecessarily, towards his direction. "I did not burst into flames! Are my words so abhorrent to you?"

"What?" exclaimed the Prince, looking upon Belle in horror before he turned hastily towards her, taking both her hands into his own. "Of course not, Belle, no, of course not!"

He seemed to have finally registered the hurt in Belle's eyes, for he quickly seemed to regain some form of composure as he regarded her in a calmer fashion, that kind smile returning as he gently stroked her hands in his own, even as Belle still wore a half angry expression on her face, her nose crinkled and cheeks slightly puffy.

"It is just that, I am unused to- well, to such affection," he tried to explain and oddly, he sounded young and Belle was suddenly aware of the fact that the Duke was just as much a novice at this as she was.

She had liked to think words could trump such basic things as the purely physical, but Belle was pleasantly surprised to see that it was more than a simple ideal, if the Prince's reaction to her words of endearment were anything to go by.

She had thought it before, but now here was the proof.

His aunt, clearly, was never wrong.

"You know my past," he continued, sounding all the more worried as he watched her cautiously, "and you know my disposition. Please be patient with me, it may- it may take me a while to get used to all this, to how I feel about you and… dare I say, how you feel about me."

He ended it all with such a sheepish smile which lit up his whole face, that Belle felt almost annoyed at how quickly she could feel herself already forgiving him.

"And as such," said the Duke, this time his voice firmer as he sat up, readjusting his posture, "I cannot really let you go anymore, at least, not as you are."

His continence on the surface may have appeared austere, but Belle could see he was turning quite nervous as his blue eyes shifted toward her.

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is…. let's make a promise. A commitment."

Belle continued to stare at Adam just as the clock on the mantlepiece chimed seven o'clock, it's bell slightly flat.

"A commitment?" repeated Belle, still not quite grasping what he was getting at.

"I want us to promise…" clarified the Prince, his speech in hushed tones though his hands held hers quite firmly. "That once everything is settled, if you still want to, if you still want me after you are settled… Then we will marry. Belle, I want us to make a promise to each other, a bond, that we will marry, that we will be together."

Belle said nothing, the man's words not quite registering as she sat dumbly beside him, quite unable it to… Well, to react immediately to such a….

Had the Prince of Chartres just proposed to her?

"It might seem uncertain," continued the Prince, his voice hasty as Belle gave no response, "it will test us, our faith in each other, but maybe that is just as well. Will you promise Belle? That we will be together one day? As equals?"

Belle blinked once. Then twice. Then thrice. And when she lifted her eyes to look into the Prince's earnest gaze, full of hope, longing and fear, she could do nothing but smile, tears filling her eyes.

It was perhaps the most radiant smile she had ever given to another human being, though she herself would not have known it.

"Do you trust me?" said Adam, with batted breath, himself smiling as well as he came closer still towards her, letting his hands settle on her shoulders. "Do you believe my love to be constant?"

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed, feeling as if she could burst out laughing at any moment. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything immediately, it is just that I cannot believe this is happening! That you should say openly you love me, of all people! Surely you must know then that my love is as constant as yours, it always has been! I do not know when it began, but all I know is… my heart is yours."

Belle reached up without thinking, and placed her hand above his chest, right where his heart was. She watched as he watched her hand before lifting his gaze, once again with that serious expression which never failed to make her own heart skip a beat every time he looked upon her.

"Belle, I meant it," he said, slowly and quietly. "It may be a secret engagement for now but…"

"A secret engagement?"

The Prince paused, suddenly looking even more grave, however Belle was no longer nervous. She knew he was only thinking of her.

"It has nothing to do with my aunt," he clarified anyway, she knew just for her own sake. "Before you can take your title, given the extraordinary circumstances, you will need to appear before the King. It would be better if you appeared as a…. Oh god, how do I say this-"

"I think I understand," replied Belle humorously with smile as she unconsciously began to massage the Prince's shoulder, just to calm him. "Untainted. Unspoilt. A perfect, spring flower!"

"Exactly," replied the Prince, and she could hear he found the whole thing incredibly tedious. "It just makes everything simpler. And given my status at court, I doubt people would view you highly if you already came with a connection such as me. It is just the way the court works. Once that is done, you can go back home, well, to your new home, and once things have settled and I have regained my reputation…"

"I can marry you?" said Belle, sounding, much to her alarm, way too eager. Her eyes widened as the Prince looked at her, surprised clearly by her sudden outburst.

"Yes," he said after a moment of delay, just as he began to chuckle, his deep baritone full of warmth. Belle still stared at him in utter mortification as he lifted her hand and kissed it before placing it back against his chest.

"Yes Belle," he said, rather teasingly, a smirk appearing on his face as he lent closer towards her.

"You may marry me," he whispered against her lips before sealing them with another searing kiss.