Page 174 of Secluded with the Rogue

Fifteen

T he Hoot I’ve been a disappointment since birth. Even if Mother somehow gave Calvin and me her blessing, I would not escape Vale’s shadow, but be thrust deeper inside it.”

Of course “Fit for a Duke” couldn’t simply be a clever metaphor. It had to be modeled quite literally after an actual duke. Her elder brother, the handsomest, wealthiest, most eligible bachelor in all of England.

Fit for a Duke was Vale, just like it was Calvin, and his business partner MacLean. All three pieces were inextricable. Belle was the part that didn’t belong. She had spent her entire life looking for the place where she did belong. She loved Calvin and her brother too much to lock herself into a situation where she would resent them for life. She could not marry her brother’s business partner and live permanently in that shadow.

“You’re stronger than that,” Ursula said. “You don’t need your mother’s approbation. You need to give yourself your own.”

Belle glared at her. “A Nottingvale?—”

“—should do as a Nottingvale pleases,” Ursula cut in. “You’ve always done as your mother pleases, as your father pleases, as your brother pleases. When will you get to do as you please?”

“Never,” Belle said listlessly. “An obedient daughter does as her parents decree until the day she weds, upon which she becomes an obedient wife who does as her husband bids.”

Ursula lifted her brows. “Does Mr. McAlistair wish to ‘bid’ you?”

No. He wished to bed her, which Belle also wanted. He wished to spend mornings with her, and noon meals, and tea time, and sunsets, and then find themselves back in each other’s arms. He wished to work with her, not to command her. He wanted to put her name in a place of honor on his catalogue, to give credit where he felt it was due.

Ursula tilted her head. “You’ve been trained to give up when people tell you no. But what if you didn’t?”

Belle stared at her.

She wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted, but she never got to have it. No was the most common word Father had ever spoken to her. No was always at the tip of Mother’s tongue. No, no, no was all she’d heard from the publishing houses and entertainment venues who had refused to even open Belle’s portfolio. After the success of “Mr. Brough,” why hadn’t she confronted them with the proof of her talent?

“Don’t wait for a hero,” Ursula said softly. “Be one.”

Even with Calvin, Belle had negotiated the wrong direction with the button contract. He’d offered to pay her to paint, and she’d demurred and done it for free. He’d offered to credit her as a valued contributor, and she’d brushed that off, as well. Belle told herself no just as often as she heard it from other people.

Ursula’s gaze was sharp. “You must fight for what you want.”

“I want Calvin.” The words scratched from Belle’s throat, but they weren’t the whole story.

Status did not matter. All people were worthy, regardless of their bloodlines. Belle had met enough so-called gentlemen to know that Calvin was in a class of his own. He deserved to have every dream come true. Belle wanted to believe she deserved the same.

“I want it all,” she admitted. “I don’t want to sparkle just once, but for the rest of my life. I want to be an artist who gets paid for her work. I want my signature to be my name, not a pseudonym. I want my work and my name to be as meaningful as my husband’s. I want to be a team , not a doll or a pet.”

Ursula tilted her head. “Is that something he could give you?”

“It’s what he tried to give me.” Belle’s chest felt empty. “I ruined it.”

“Did you ruin it?” Ursula asked. “How can you know you’ve caused irreparable harm if you haven’t tried to make any repairs?”

“If... if I chase after Calvin, the next place I’ll see my name will be in a scandal column. No lord would want me. My reputation will be ruined.”

Ursula shrugged. “Your mother cares about that. Do you?”

“I...do not.” Belle gave a startled little laugh. “What good is ‘Lady Isabelle’s’ precious reputation if all my best work is under a pseudonym? Maybe she’s the one who doesn’t exist and never has. I would trade my status as a lady for one of an artist married to the man she loves.”

Ursula grinned at her. “Then do it. Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Belle’s pulse quickened, a sudden syncopated staccato.

She might not have the power to win the battle, but she had the power to try. She could no longer be afraid of failure. Calvin was worth the risk. Belle was worth the risk. So was his business, her art, their future.

It was too late to return to the Hoot & Holly to apologize. He had left first. She had cowered in her tiny guest chamber until she heard his door, his footsteps, and then nothing.

She did not have his address. There was no direction where she might send a letter or pay a call. But she did know where he intended to spend the Yuletide.

The question was whether she could convince Calvin that Lady Isabelle was just as worthy as Mrs. Lépine… and convince her powerful brother not to retaliate against the tailor who had stolen his sister’s heart.