Simon’s temper sparked, but he refrained from taking it out on the servants. It was clear Belle was unharmed, but something about this entire situation was wrong.
“Has she been drinking?”
From beside him, Belle giggled at his question, snatching another lemon cake. The servants glanced away and he took that as confirmation. He cursed, waving them away.
“This is soooo delicious. You should try some,” Belle murmured with a mouth full of lemon cake.
Simon could only stare. Never in his life had he seen anything like it. Crumbs and cream coated the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were closed while she savored the cakes with a delighted smile.
“Do you not just love them?” she continued, snatching yet another lemon cake.
“I loveyou, not the damn lemon cakes,” Simon growled before he could think better of it. But once the words left him he refused to take them back.
Damnation.
“Beg pardon?” Belle croaked, her hand filled with lemon cake halting mid-air, her eyes wide in wonder.
Simon’s heart hammered in his chest as he waited for her reply.
“How could you not love lemon cake?”
Her lower lip quivered.
Bloody hell.
“Woman, you are foxed.”And too engrossed in those damn cakes to even comprehend my declaration. “How much did you drink?”
She rocked back on her heels, her brow scrunching in thought. “This much,” she said, indicating with her cake-smeared thumb and her pointer finger what would have been a tiny amount.
Simon snorted. “How about you just tell me what you had to drink?”
She giggled again, so out of character for her. “Why, tea of course, silly.”
His jaw clenched and muscles tightened in his neck. She was determined to be difficult then, or she just foxed. For all he knew, she’d consumed the entire distillery of London.
“Tea, why of course.”
She blinked at the sarcasm he did not attempt to hide. “Why are you here? Do you not have lordy business to attend to?”
“Must have been some tea,” he muttered with a shake of his head. He touched a hand to her cheek, not liking her pallor but deciding not to press the matter. “You are too beautiful for your own good.”
She leaned into his hand and he suddenly recalled his revelation, the reason she refused to marry. “Ah, Belle, what am I to do with you?”
“Order more lemon cakes?”
On a sigh, he took hold of her arm and led her to the sofa. This, whatever this was, could not happen again.
She was a lady.
And she was being hunted by a madman.
Hell, though, if she wanted a drink, who was he to argue?
Simon watched as her mouth opened for yet another treat.
He sighed.
He’d just told the woman that he was madly in love with he loved her. Bells should be ringing, the heavens should be opening and they should be entwined in a passionate embrace, kissing.
She should have confessed she loved him back.
But no, instead she was stuffing her beautiful face with lemon cake.
