"Oh, Christ," John swore, hoping that he'd misheard her. He gave her a hard jostle. "Whatever you do, don't fall asleep. Do you hear me, Belle? Don't fall asleep!" When she didn't respond immediately, he gave her another shove.

Belle didn't even open her eyes. "But I'm so tired."

"I don't care," John said sternly. "You will remain awake. Do you understand me?"

It took Belle a few seconds to process his demand. "If you say so," she said finally.

For the rest of the ride, John alternated between spurring Thor on to keep him riding at top speed and shaking Belle to prevent her from falling asleep. He had to get her home and warmed up. He was terrified mat if she went to sleep she wouldn't have the energy to awaken.

After what seemed like hours, they emerged from the trees and picked up speed as they raced across the lawns of Hyde Park and then the streets of London. They came to a halt at the front steps of Blydon House. John quickly slid off the horse, taking Belle along with him. The groom who had been riding with Mary took hold of the reins and led Thor back to the mews. After barking out a quick thanks, John strode into the hall, cradling Belle in his arms.

"Thornton!" he yelled.

Within seconds the butler materialized before him.

"Have a warm bath prepared immediately. Set it in my room."

"Yes, my lord, right away my lord." Thornton turned to Mrs. Crane, the housekeeper who had followed him into the hall. Before he could say a word, she had nodded and hurried up the stairs.

John took the stairs as fast as he could, his good leg taking two stairs with each step. He raced down the hallway, cradling Belle gently against his chest. "We're almost there, love," he murmured. "I promise we'll get you warm."

Belle's head moved slightly. John hoped that she had heard him and was nodding, but he had the sinking feeling that her movement was merely due to his haste going up the stairs. When they reached his room, two maids were hurriedly filling up a tub. "We're heating the water as fast as we can, my lord," one said, hastily bobbing a curtsy.

John nodded curtly and laid Belle down on a towel which had been set atop his bed. Her hair fell back from her face, revealing an ugly purple bruise that stained her forehead. John felt the breath leave his body, and an unspeakable rage poured through him. Rage at what, he wasn't sure-most probably himself.

"John?" she asked weakly, her eyelids fluttering.

"I'm here, love. I'm here."

"I feel strange, very strange. I'm cold but I'm not. I think I'm-I think I'm-" Belle had been about to say the word "dying," but her last rational thought before she drifted into unconsciousness was that she didn't want to worry him.

John swore under his breath, noticing instantly when she slipped away from him. His numb but steady fingers quickly went to work on the frozen buttons of her riding habit. "Don't you leave me, Belle!" he shouted. "Do you hear me? You can't leave me now!"

Mrs. Crane bustled into the room, carrying two more buckets of steaming water. "My lord?" she questioned. "Are you sure you should? That is, perhaps a woman…"

He turned to her and said in extremely clipped tones, "She is my wife. I will care for her."

Mrs. Crane nodded stiffly and exited the room.

John turned his attention back to Belle's buttons. When he was finished, he pulled back the sides of the jacket and worked her arms out of the sleeves. Murmuring a quiet apology, he tore her camisole cleanly down the front. The way it was sticking to her body, it would have taken too long to peel it off. Besides, this way she could remain lying down. Mutely, he laid a hand down against her ribs. Her skin was pale and clammy. His fear renewed, John redoubled his efforts and pulled her out of her sodden skirts.

When she was naked in his arms, he carried her over to the steaming tub which was now nearly full. He knelt down and dipped his finger in the water. He frowned. It was a little too hot, but he wasn't sure he had the time to wait for it to cool off. Praying for the best, he lowered Belle into the tub. "There you are, love. I promised you I'd get you warm."

She didn't respond to the heat. "Wake up, Belle," he shouted at her, shaking her slim shoulders. "You cannot sleep until you're warm."

Belle mumbled something unintelligible and swatted him away with her hand.

John took her feistiness as a good sign but nonetheless thought that he ought to get her woken up. He shook her again, and then when that didn't work, he did the only thing he could think of. He dunked her head under the water.

Belle came up spluttering, and for a few moments there was a look of absolute clarity in her eyes. "What on earth?!" she yelled.

"Just warming you up, love," John said with a smile.

"Well, you're not doing a very good job of it. I'm freezing!"

"I'm working as fast as I can."

"The water hurts me."

"There's nothing I can do about that, I'm afraid. It'll sting a bit as it warms you up."

"It's too hot."

"No, love, you're too cold."

Belle grumbled tiredly like a child. Then she looked down, saw John's large hands rubbing gently against her bare skin, and fainted.

"Christ Almighty," John swore. She was a dead weight again, and if he left her for even one moment, she was sure to drown. "Thornton!" he yelled.

Thornton, who'd been hovering solicitously outside the closed door, appeared instantly. He caught one glance of the naked young noblewoman in the tub, gulped nervously, and turned his back. "Yes, sir?"

"Get someone to start a fire in here. It's as cold as a damned morgue."