"Are you calling me childish and bothersome?" His voice was low and deadly serious.

"I don't know. Was I? Now, if you'll excuse me, I am finding this conversation exceedingly childish and bothersome, and I have much better ways to spend my time."

John caught her in an iron grip. "I don't excuse you, thank you very much, and I have no better way to spend my time. I have one question for you, and I want it answered." He paused, and his silence forced Belle to look up into his eyes. "Have you always been this deliberately cruel?"

Belle yanked her arm back. "I'd slap you," she hissed. "But I'm afraid your cheek might contaminate my hand."

"I'm sure you'll be happy to know that you hurt me. But, my lady, it was only for a minute. Because then I realized that I want no part of any woman who would stoop to consorting with my brother just to have revenge against me."

Belle finally let her exasperation show. "For the last time, John, I have no idea who your brother is."

"Well, that's interesting, because he knows who you are."

"Lots of people know who I am."

John put his face very close to hers. "He's thinking about marrying you."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Belle blinked in surprise as some of her anger dissipated in the confusion of the moment. "Well, I suppose that a number of men have thought about marrying me," she said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't mean that they have all asked me. And it certainly doesn't mean that I have reciprocated their feelings."

For a moment John wanted to believe her but then he remembered Emma's words. She's thinking of getting married… An earl, I think… Actually, she said he reminded her of you. "Don't try to talk your way out of this one, little girl," he warned.

"Little girl? Little girl! Contamination be damned, I think I will slap you!"

Belle raised her hand but John caught it easily. "You haven't my instincts, Belle," he said silkily. "You could never win a battle between us."

His air of condescension was just the spark to set Belle's anger into full-fledged fury. "Let me tell you a thing or two, Lord Blackwood," she raged, pulling her hand back. "First of all, I don't know who your brother is, and second of all, even if I did want to marry him, I fail to see why that would have anything to do with you, since you have made it abundantly clear that you want nothing at all to do with me. Thirdly, I see no reason why I would ever have to explain my actions to you of all people. So, fourthly-"

"Stop at three, Belle," John smirked. "You're losing my interest."

Belle shot him her best attempt at a sneer and raised her hand as if she were going to try to slap him again. His interest sufficiently engaged, she stomped mightily on his foot. John didn't even wince. She hadn't thought he would; her slippers were not made out of especially hard material. Still, her spirits were buoyed by her small victory, and she scoffed, "Your instincts are getting old, John."

"If you want to inflict real damage, get some sturdy shoes, Belle. And they might save you from another blister next time you go for a hike."

Belle swallowed as she remembered how gently John had cared for her foot. It was difficult to reconcile that tender man with the sardonic and insulting one standing in front of her now. With a deliberately impatient sigh, she looked him in the eye and said, "I would like to go back to the party. So if you would kindly step aside…"

John didn't budge. "Who are you thinking about marrying?"

Belle groaned to herself as her lies came back to haunt her. "None of your business," she snapped.

"I said, who are you thinking about marrying?"

"And I said, it's none of your business."

John leaned forward. "Not the Earl of Westborough by any chance?"

Belle's eyes bugged out. " He's your brother?"

She really didn't know they were related. No one could fake that expression. But John wanted to be absolutely certain, and so he said, "His surname didn't clue you in?"

"I only met him last week. I don't know his surname. He was simply introduced to me as the Earl of Westborough. And before you accuse me of any other heinous crimes, let me tell you that I only knew that your father was an earl because Alex told me. I had no idea which one."

John didn't say anything, just stood there silently judging her. Belle found his behavior extremely irritating and said, "Although now that you mention it, he does look a bit like you. Slightly more handsome, perhaps, and he doesn't limp."

John ignored her insult, recognizing it for what it was: a mindless jibe from one wounded animal to another. "You really didn't know he was my brother?"

"No! I swear to you!" And then Belle felt as if she were acting like she was begging his forgiveness when she hadn't done anything wrong, so she said, "But that doesn't change any of my plans."

"Plans? To marry him?"

"I'll inform you of my plans when I see fit." I hope I inform myself of my plans when I see fit, Belle thought wildly, b ecause I haven't any idea what I'm saying.

John's hands clamped down on her shoulders. "Who are you planning to marry?"

"I'm not telling."

"You sound like a three-year-old."

"You're treating me like one."

"I'm only going to ask you one more time," John warned softly, his face approaching hers.

"You have no right to talk to me like this," Belle whispered. "Not after you-"

"For God's sake, Belle, don't throw that in my face again. I've already admitted that I've treated you badly. But I have to know. Don't you understand that? I have to know!" John's eyes blazed with passion. "Who are you planning to marry?"