"Could it wait for a few minutes? I really need to go to the retiring room. I think—I think I have a small tear in my dress."

Belle knew precisely with whom Henry had been dancing and guessed something was amiss. "I'll go with you," she declared, much to the consternation of her husband, who was prompted to ask Alex why it was that ladies always seemed to need to go to the retiring room in pairs.

Alex shrugged. "It's destined to be one of the great mysteries of life, I think. I for one am deathly afraid of finding out what exactly goes on in these retiring rooms."

"It's where they keep all the good liquor," Belle said pertly.

"That explains it, then. Oh, by the by, have any of you seen Dunford? I wanted to ask him something." He turned to Henry. "Weren't you just dancing with him?"

"I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea where he is."

Belle smiled stiffly. "We'll see you later, Alex. John." She turned to Henry. "Follow me. I know the way." She navigated her way around the edge of the ballroom with remarkable speed, stopping only to pluck two glasses of champagne off a tray. "Here," she said, handing one to Henry. "We might need these."

"In the washroom?"

"With no men about? It's the perfect place for a toast."

"I don't much feel like celebrating right now, I must say."

"I thought not, but a drink might be just the thing."

They turned into a hallway, and Henry followed Belle into a small chamber which was lit with half a dozen candles. A large mirror covered one wall. Belle shut the door and turned the key. "Now," she said briskly, "what is wrong?"

"Noth—"

"And don't say 'nothing,' for I won't believe it."

"Belle..."

"You might as well tell me, for I'm dreadfully nosy and always find out everything sooner or later. If you don't believe me, just ask my family. They'll be first to confirm it."

"It is only the excitement of the evening, I tell you."

"It's Dunford."

Henry looked away.

"It's quite obvious to me you're more than halfway in love with him," Belle said bluntly, "so you might as well be honest."

Henry's head whipped back to face her. "Does everyone else know?" she asked in a whisper that hovered somewhere between terror and humiliation.

"No, I don't think so," Belle lied. "And if they do, I'm sure they are all cheering you on."

"It's no use. He doesn't want me."

Belle raised her brows. She had seen the way Dunford looked at Henry when he thought no one was looking. "Oh, I think he wants you."

"What I meant was, he doesn't—he doesn't love me," Henry stammered.

"That question is also open to debate," Belle said with a thoughtful expression. "Has he kissed you?"

Henry's blush was answer enough.

"So he has! I thought as much. That is a very good sign."

"I don't think so." Henry's eyes slid to the floor. She and Belle had become very good friends this past fortnight, but they had never spoken quite so frankly. "He, um, he, um..."

"He what?" Belle prodded.

"He seemed so utterly in control afterward, and he moved all the way across the carriage as if he wanted nothing to do with me. He didn't even hold my hand."

Belle was more experienced than Henry, and she immediately recognized that Dunford was terrified he would lose control. She wasn't entirely certain why he was trying to behave so honorably. Any fool could see they were a perfect couple. A small indiscretion before marriage could easily be overlooked. "Men," Belle finally declared, taking a swig of champagne, "can be idiots."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know why people persist in believing women are inferior, when it is quite clear that men are the more feeble-minded of the two."

Henry stared at her blankly.

"Consider this: Alex tried to convince himself he wasn't in love with my cousin only because he thought he didn't want to get married. And John—now this one is even more asinine—he tried to push me away because he had it in his head that something that happened in his past made him unworthy of me. Dunford obviously has some equally featherbrained reason for trying to keep you at arm's length."

"But why?"

Belle shrugged. "If I knew that, I'd probably be prime minister. The woman who finally understands men will rule the world, mark my words. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"It cannot be that wager."

"What wager?"

"A few months ago I wagered Dunford he would be married within a year." She looked over at Henry apologetically.

"You did?"

Belle swallowed uncomfortably. "I believe I said he would be 'tied up, leg-shackled, and loving it.'"

"He is making me miserable because of a bet?" Henry's voice rose considerably on the last word.

"It might not be the wager," Belle said quickly, realizing she had not improved the situation.

"I would like to wring... his... neck." Henry punctuated the sentence by tossing back the contents of her champagne glass.

"Try not to do it here at the ball."

Henry stood up and planted her hands on her hips. "Don't worry. I wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I care."

Belle chewed nervously on her lip as she watched Henry stalk from the room. Henry did care. Very much.

Chapter 15

Dunford had slipped away to the card room, where he proceeded to win a staggering amount of money through no ability of his own. Lord knew he was finding it difficult to keep his mind on the game.