Chapter 13
It was almost midnight and Belle was still lost in the creation of her newest designs. At the moment, she was creating an exquisite gown that would drape across the beautiful form of a woman in the family way. Normally when a woman started to show, they were encouraged to stay at home and wear ugly dresses that did not do their bodies any justice. It had always been a particular dream of hers to design a magnificent piece to complement a woman’s figure rather than hide it. And she figured she’d make Evelyn her test subject.
Luckily, her friend was all for scandalizing their peers.
Grey, on the other hand, may have a thing or seven to shout about it. For this gown had to forgo corsets altogether. A baby was already a weight to carry and Belle wished for the gown to feel like a light breeze to an expecting lady.
Evelyn was going to adore these dresses, Belle was certain of it.
She quickly finished the outer lines of the next gown, the scraping of her pencil on paper soothing her. Simon had yet to make an appearance and he did not yet carry the knowledge of her secret activities as Madam De La Frey. Better for it to stay that way. He was such an old goat when it came to propriety. She wondered whether he’d ever stopped to take into account some of his own inappropriate behavior.
Suddenly, without any warning, an arm entered her vision and she was grabbed from behind, a hand covering her mouth, stifling her scream. She struggled against the hard body of the man who attacked her, but he appeared unfazed by her struggles.
“Stop struggling, sis,” a familiar voice murmured in her ear.
Quinn?
She stilled.
After a moment, he continued, “I’m going to let you go. Promise you’ll not scream?”
She gave a single nod.
The hand that covered her mouth lifted and when she remained silent and unmoving he let her go. She whirled on her brother. “Are you out of your mind? Accosting me in our home, Quinn? What is the meaning of this? And where have you been? Has something happened? Where is Bradford?”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, sis, but no one can know I’m here and it was hardly an attack. You look beautiful, by the way.”
She studied his face, noting every line, every one of his sandy whiskers. “Then what would you call it then? A surprise greeting?”
He had the grace to look ashamed. “I’ve forgotten how direct you can be.”
She punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
“Ah! What was that for?”
“I’ve missed you,” Belle said simply.
His gaze softened. “I’ve missed you, too. But first, I have a few questions. Like why the Earl of Westfield has been secretly living in our house? Inmychamber, no less. And why the devil did you never send word that our aunt is bedridden?”
Belle flushed at the thought of her brother knowing about Simon. She supposed it could have been worse. Her brother could have arrived while Simon was sleeping inherbedchambers.
“She can leave her bed, and does. Had you been here, Quinn, you’d have known her health is not what it used to be. But no, you and Bradford abandoned me, so I made do with what I had.”
“We did not abandon you, Belle, and we sent letters.”
“Yes, I read your letters, nary one with a return address. So even if I wanted to inform you of our aunt’s health, I was never able to.”
Quinn had the good graces to blush at her words.
“And Westfield?” he asked with narrowed eyes, his arms folding over his broad chest.
Belle lifted her chin. “I’ve been feeling unsafe lately, so Westfield kindly offered to stay here for a while.”
“Why did you not take auntie and depart for the country to our cousins?”
And put her Holly, Willow, and Poppy in danger?
Absolutely not.
