The Outrageous Belle Marchmain by Lucy Ashford

Author:Lucy Ashford
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-04-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

It was a bright summer’s afternoon when Adam called to take Belle over the river to Astley’s Amphitheatre. Outwardly Belle was ready for him, with her light smile and defiant air. But as ever these days, just one look at him had her thoughts tumbling into complete disarray.

She’d watched him from the window as he climbed down from his chaise with long-limbed ease, dressed with devastating simplicity in his caped driving coat and shining top boots. Belle met him at the open door; he bowed over her hand then assessed her swiftly.

He frowned a little.

She stiffened, her heart missing a beat; Lord, how sensitive she was to his every gesture, every look. ‘La, Mr D., you look as if you’d swallowed a spider. Is something wrong?’ she queried with a jaunty smile.

Amusement gleamed in his dark eyes. ‘Since you ask, yes. Your clothes disappoint me a little.’

‘Disappoint you?’ she gasped.

A muscle quivered at the corner of his jaw. ‘Indeed. They’re almost—conventional.’

She glanced down quickly at her dove-grey pelisse. ‘But I thought—since we’re meeting your family—I decided you would be embarrassed if I dressed in my usual foolish way...’

‘Not foolish,’ he said quietly. ‘Please don’t change yourself, Belle. For me, or anyone.’

Dear God. If she didn’t have more sense she’d be head over heels in love with this man. But she did know better, so she plastered on her bright smile, stilled her shaking heart and hurried inside, to come out very soon in a cherry-pink walking dress with navy ruffles and a wide-brimmed straw hat trimmed with pink-silk ribbons galore. ‘Better?’ She tilted her head jauntily and waved a cherry-coloured fan.

Adam grinned. ‘Oh, much better. Shall we depart?’

He held out his arm so she could rest her fingers daintily on it and led her to his carriage.

* * *

After driving the chaise over Westminster Bridge, Adam left the vehicle in the tender care of his coachman Joseph and led her towards the vast amphitheatre that was Astley’s. Such a throng had gathered for the popular attraction that she wondered they’d be able to find anyone at all, but soon there were gleeful shouts of ‘Uncle Adam! It’s Uncle Adam!’ and two little boys were running towards them.

A moment later a cheerful-looking man—Adam’s younger brother, it had to be—was striding eagerly forwards to grip Adam by the hand.

‘Out of the way, you hooligans!’ Freddy commanded. ‘Is that the way, brats, to greet your esteemed uncle?’ The grin on his pleasant face completely counteracted the severity of his words. He had the same thick dark hair as Adam, the same chiselled jaw, but was just a little less tall and looked as though he spent most of his time smiling. ‘Adam, good to see you. And—’ his gaze had fastened on Belle ‘—Mrs Marchmain? Your servant, ma’am!’ His eyes were widening considerably. ‘Come away, brats, and give the lady some space.’

The oldest boy—he must be Joshua—was gazing up at her, frowning. ‘Papa, is she one of Uncle Adam’s petticoats that you and Mama were talking about at breakfast when I came in?’

‘Oh, Lord.

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