Page 24 of The Rogue’s Runaway Bride (Rogue of Her Own #3)

F or you. Belle’s breath caught in her throat.

The words were ordinary enough. And yet, their implied meaning stunned her.

Ellie must’ve read something into Jon’s actions that fit her own romanticized narrative.

He’d sent her on the shopping errand because there was little choice.

His motives were practical. As usual. Jon certainly could not have Carrie’s teacher roaming about his house popping at the seams in his sister’s too-small dress, now, could he?

“I’m of the opinion he had little choice in the matter,” Belle said, summoning her most rational tone as she stepped behind the screen to change from the tailored suit into the practical yet pretty pale blue dress.

“There is always a choice,” Ellie countered with an air of authority.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Belle said, easily closing the cotton bodice.

After struggling with the too-snug dress she’d borrowed, donning a garment with fasteners which easily slid into place seemed quite the treat.

“He couldn’t simply stand by as I watched over Carrie while wearing blouses that quite literally threatened to burst their buttons. ”

“I sense a story there,” Ellie said as a light rap upon the door announced Mrs. Gilroy’s presence.

“Ah, there’s a story all right,” Mrs. Gilroy said as she entered the room with Carrie at her side. She turned to Ellie. “Isn’t there always, lass?”

“I’ve had my fair share,” Ellie agreed.

“Still not as many as Miss Macie,” the housekeeper said with a touch of affection in her wry tone. “It still brings a smile to my face to think she’s happily wed now—and to that rogue Finn Caldwell, of all people.”

“Macie and Amelia are of the belief that rogues really do make the very best husbands,” Ellie said with a knowing air.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Mrs. Gilroy said, leading Carrie to a comfortably overstuffed wing chair in the corner. “But I’d never seen Miss Macie happier than the day she exchanged vows with Mr. Caldwell.”

“She was absolutely radiant. After years of chasing off suitors, she found true joy with a rogue of her very own.” Ellie’s tone seemed a bit wistful. “The key is to find one who now has eyes only for you.”

Was it Belle’s imagination, or had Ellie slanted her a speaking glance?

“Oh, I do need a rogue of my own. But where to find one?” Ellie went on. “Now that is the question.”

“Yer time will come,” Mrs. Gilroy replied with a sage nod.

“I do hope so,” Ellie said, turning her attention to a rather bemused-looking Carrie. She smiled at the child. “My, don’t you look pretty today. And your dolly is...” Her eyes widened as she gazed down at the rather haggard rag doll. “Looking happy today.”

“She isn’t happy.” Carrie shook her head and pointed to what appeared to be a fresh tear on the doll’s hand. “Anna is a bit sad.” She poked out her lip, looking as if she bit back tears. “I don’t think Heathy likes her.”

“I didn’t want to disturb ye, Miss Belle, but the child was beside herself. I told her I’d help her with it, but she insisted on bringing the doll to ye,” Mrs. Gilroy explained. “I’ll mend it tonight.”

Miss Belle. Well, that was progress. The housekeeper had evidently warmed up to her.

Belle slipped the last tiny button on the dress into place and stepped away from the dressing screen. “Oh, that’s not so bad,” she said, taking the doll in her hands. “I’m sure Heathy didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“If I hadn’t caught the wee beast in the act, the doll might be missing its hand,” Mrs. Gilroy explained.

“Thanks to your quick action, Anna will soon be back to her old self.” Belle examined the rip in the fabric. “Nothing a few stitches won’t solve.”

“Will you make her better?” Carrie asked with a sniffle.

Belle turned to Mrs. Gilroy. “Might I use your mending supplies?”

“Of course. But I am able to stitch it.”

“I rather enjoy needlework, though I haven’t had cause to thread a needle in quite some time.” She held out the doll to Carrie. “Would you like to help me fix her up?”

The girl gave an enthusiastic nod. “She’ll be all better.”

“Of course she will,” Mrs. Gilroy said with a smile. “I’ll gather my sewing kit.”

“Thank you.” Belle turned to Carrie. “Please take Anna back to your playroom and I’ll be there shortly.”

“I’ll put her on the shelf.” The girl cast a little frown at Heathy. “Away from his teeth.”

“That would be a good idea,” Mrs. Gilroy agreed. “I’ll go along with ye, child, and ye can help me in the kitchen for a bit.” She tapped her fingers against the not-quite-empty trunk. “I’m sure Miss Belle and Miss Ellie would like more time to look through these pretty dresses.”

“Thank you,” Belle said as the housekeeper and the girl took their leave.

Something on the rug caught Belle’s eye: a key tethered to a blue ribbon. Heathy appeared to spot the ribbon at the same moment, but Belle quickly scooped it up and hurried into the hallway.

Heathy’s bell jangled as he took off after Carrie. At the sound, Carrie tugged on Mrs. Gilroy’s sleeve, and the old woman turned just as Belle caught up to her.

“Mrs. Gilroy, I think you dropped this.”

“I’m thankful ye spotted it,” she said, tucking the key into her apron pocket. “I would’ve been in a dither searching the house for it.”

“Heathy would’ve brought it to you,” Carrie said cheerfully.

“I would not be so certain of that, child.” Mrs. Gilroy took her hand. “Come along. Let’s put yer doll in a safe place.”

“Come, Heathy,” Belle called the dog. She certainly didn’t want Mrs. Gilroy to have to navigate her unsteady steps around the pup.

Wagging his tail energetically, Heathy followed her down the hallway back to the bedchamber.

After she settled comfortably on an upholstered bench, he plopped down contentedly at her feet.

Ellie leaned back in the wingchair. Holding the portrait of Jon and Macie in their youth, she appeared deep in thought as she studied the images. She drew a fingertip along the edge of the scrolled frame. When she glanced up, a look of nostalgia filled her eyes.

“This was taken at their country home,” she said. “I have a portrait at home of Macie and me that was made when the photographer was visiting that spring. My, we were so very young.”

“I can see the spark in her eyes.”

“She’s always had such a zest for life. I’ve never seen it dim.” She pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Perhaps only once... when it looked as if she and Finn would part company. But as you already know, they figured it out. Happily ever after, as they say.”

“I do so love the thought of a happy ending,” Belle said. “It often seems the stuff of fairy tales.”

“I’m not all that fond of those flowery tales. The notion of sitting around waiting to be rescued by a prince—charming or not—doesn’t quite appeal to me.”

“I, for one, do not have the patience,” Belle said. “That is not to say I would object to a handsome knight charging to the rescue, but I doubt I could sit idly by and wait for him to ride up on his steed.”

“I’d be content with the rescue. And perhaps a kiss—or two—to thank him for his courage.”

Belle offered a nod of agreement. “Come to think of it, there’s never any indication that the prince or knight or whatever has a brain in his skull. Why, the man could be a muscle-bound dolt, now couldn’t he?”

“Not that a muscle-bound dolt might not have his, shall we say, purpose.” Ellie’s eyes flashed with mischief.

“Fighting off a dragon or two would warrant sweet kisses. Perhaps, if he was particularly brave, I might even consider a scandalous touch. Or two.” Her mouth curved into a sly smile.

“But a lifelong commitment to a man I don’t truly even know? I think not.”

“Indeed,” Belle concurred. “I much prefer Miss Austen’s heroes, don’t you?”

“Ah, Mr. Darcy,” Ellie said. “Ever so much more appealing than a knight with all muscles and nothing between his ears.”

“And no clunky armor to clutter up the house,” Belle said with a soft chuckle. “I shudder to think about polishing all that tin.”

Ellie laughed out loud. “I must admit, Belle—you are not at all what I expected.”

“In what way, might I ask?”

“Oh, where to begin?” Seeming to stall, Ellie rose and placed the photograph she’d been holding back in its proper place. “I suppose I’d expected the Frost Princess to be a bit, for lack of a better word, frostier .”

“Oh, I can be cool to those who don’t deserve better.

Since my debutante ball, I’ve stood my ground with people who mistook a kind heart for weakness.

Some have portrayed my backbone as proof of a cold nature.

That is their choice.” A touch of pride rippled through her at her resolve.

“I suppose I should detest that rather horrid name. Really, I should. But I don’t.

” Belle smiled. A faint smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I actually rather like it.”

“Really?” Ellie’s eyes widened, if only a bit.

“I believe it all started in Manhattan. I’d heard one of the dowry-seeking snobs I’d shown the door—I’m not entirely sure which one, as there were so many—was in his cups at some high-brow tavern.

While the oaf loudly bemoaned my supposedly frigid nature, a reporter at a gossip rag overheard what he’d said.

The hack had a fine time making a play on my name.

Truly, I find it rather silly. But the nickname captured interest, and the papers ran with it.

Over time, it has proven to be rather useful. ”

Ellie rested her chin on her hand. “Do tell.”

“Since the press spread the word that I am unapproachable, I’ve taken advantage of their warning. It has worked wonders with the men my mother and I call Merger Hunters ,” Belle explained. “For a time, you see, I was viewed as good wife material by more than one scion of powerful families.”

“ Wife material ?” Ellie sighed. “How very tiresome.”