Dancing at Midnight by Julia Quinn Read Free Book Online Page A

flushed with pleasure at his compliment. "I had some offers, but
    none were suitable."

    "Not enough money?"

    This time when Belle flushed, it was with consternation. "I take offense
    at that, Lord Blackwood."

    "I'm sorry, I thought it was the way of things."

    Belle had to admit that for many women, it /was /the way of things, and
    she accepted his apology with a brief nod. "A few of
    the gentlemen informed me that they would be able to overlook my
    appalling bluestocking tendencies on account of my looks
    and fortune."

    "I find your bluestocking tendencies quite appealing."

    Belle sighed happily. "How nice it is to hear someone—a man—say that."

    John shrugged. "It always seemed silly to me to desire a woman who
    cannot converse any better than a sheep."

    Belle leaned forward, her eyes glittering mischievously. "Really? I
    would have thought you'd /prefer /such a woman,
    considering your difficulty with polite conversation."

    "Touche, my lady. I cede this round to you."

    Belle felt absurdly pleased and was suddenly very, very glad that she'd
    ventured out that morning. "I'll take that as high
    praise, indeed."

    "It was meant as such." John waved his hand toward the diminishing
    number of scones. "Don't you want one? I'm liable to
    eat the whole plateful if you don't intervene soon."

    "Well, I already had breakfast but..." Belle eyed the mouth-watering
    scones. "I suppose one wouldn't hurt."

    "Good, I haven't the patience for ladies who try to eat like rabbits."

    "No, you prefer sheep, I understand."

    "Touche again, my lady." John glanced out the window. "Are those your
    horses out there?"

    Belle followed his gaze and then got up and walked to the window. "Yes,
    the one on the left is my mare Amber. I didn't see
    the stables, so I just tied her to the tree. She seems content."

    John had stood when Belle had gotten up, and now he walked over to join
    her at the window. "The stables are in the back."

    Belle was intensely aware of his nearness, of the spicy masculine scent
    of him. The breath seemed to leave her body, and
    for the first time that morning, she felt robbed of all speech. While he
    was watching her mare, she stole a quick glance at his
    profile. He had a straight, patrician nose, and a strong chin. His lips
    were simply beautiful, full and sensual. She swallowed uncomfortably and
    forced herself to move her gaze to his eyes. They looked bleak. Belle
    found herself desperately wishing
    that she could erase the pain and loneliness she saw there.

    Abruptly, John turned and caught Belle watching him. His eyes locked
    with hers, and for a moment he left his expression unshuttered, allowing
    her to look into his very soul. Then he quirked a smile, breaking the
    spell, and turned away.

    "She's a lovely mare," he said.

    It took a few moments before Belle could catch her breath. "Yes, I've
    had her for several years."

    "I cannot imagine she gets much exercise in London."

    "No." And why were they speaking so flatly now, Belle wanted to know.
    Why had he pulled away from her? She didn't
    think she could bear being with him for one more moment if they were
    only going to speak inanities and, God forbid, make
    polite conversation. "I'd better go," she said abruptly. "It's getting
    late."

    John chuckled at that. It was barely ten in the morning.

    In her haste to compose herself and leave, Belle didn't hear his mirth.
    "You can keep the basket," she said. "It's a gift,
    after all, along with all the food."

    "I shall treasure it always." He pulled the bell-cord to summon Belle's
    maid from the kitchens.

    Belle smiled, and then to her horror and surprise, she felt a tear
    welling up in her eye. "Thank you for your company.
    I had a lovely morning."

    "As did I." John escorted her to the front hall. She smiled before
    turning away from him, rocking him to his very soul and
    sending a fresh wave of desire through his body. "Lady Arabella," he
    said hoarsely.

    She turned around, concern clouding her