"Ah, my lovely, loyal wife." Alex leaned forward and dropped a kiss on Emma's forehead.

Belle slumped back in her seat. She wanted to hear more about John Blackwood, but there didn't seem any polite way to ask Alex to say more about him. It rather irritated her to admit it, but she couldn't deny that she was incredibly interested in the unusual man.

Belle had always been very practical, very pragmatic, and the one thing she had always refused to do was deceive herself. John Blackwood had intrigued her this afternoon, but now that she knew a bit of his history, she was fascinated. Every little thing about him, from the quirk of his brow to the way the wind ruffled his slightly wavy hair suddenly took on new meaning. And his insistence upon walking made much more sense. After fighting so fiercely to save his leg, it was only natural that he'd want to use it. He struck her as a man of principles. A man you could trust, depend upon. A man whose passions ran deep.

Belle was so surprised by the turn of her thoughts, she actually jerked her head back a little. Emma noticed her movement and inquired, "Are you all right, Belle?"

"What? Oh, just a little headache. More like a twinge, actually. It's gone now."

"Oh."

"It's probably from all my reading," Belle continued, even though Emma seemed perfectly willing to let the subject drop. "I have to try very hard to make the words focus these days. I think that perhaps I ought to have my eyes examined."

If Emma was surprised by her cousin's sudden admission that her eyesight was not quite what it should be, she made no mention of it. "Excellent. There is a very good doctor in the village. We'll see what he can do."

Belle smiled and picked up her tea. It was getting cold. And then Emma said a marvelous thing.

"You know what we ought to do," the duchess said to her husband. "We ought to invite this John Blake person-"