Page 27 of The Rogue’s Runaway Bride (Rogue of Her Own #3)

“In a word, yes.” He closed the distance between them, lowering his voice.

If Mrs. Gilroy was indeed eavesdropping, it wouldn’t do to alarm her.

“The barkeeper at the Rogue’s Lair is one of the best sources of information I have.

Murray’s hearing is keen as any spy,” Jon said, deciding the truth was the best approach.

“According to word on the street, the ruffians are still on the hunt and actively seeking your whereabouts.”

“On the hunt. My, I’m not accustomed to feeling like prey to be tracked.” Belle’s complexion paled. “This... this isn’t right.” She laced her fingers in a nervous knot. “I need to find somewhere else to go.”

Searching her features, he saw the flickers of shock in her eyes at the thought that someone—someone she’d trusted, no less—was searching for her as if she were an escaped prisoner with a bounty to claim. He’d seen the look of alarm flash over her features.

“Trust me when I tell you that I will shield you from those brutes.”

“Those men will not hesitate to hurt anyone who gets in their way.” She stared up at the darkening sky. “My presence here puts everyone at risk.”

“The bastards will not dare to cross my threshold.”

“I do hope you’re right. But at this point, we don’t know what they are capable of.”

“I will keep you safe, Belle.” He caught one of her hands in his, stroking his thumb over the satin-smooth skin. “I will see to the protection of everyone under this roof.”

“I trust that you will. But at what cost?” She met his gaze with a look of resolve. “I won’t be able to live with myself if anyone is hurt. I should leave this house.”

She’d tried to disguise her trepidation, but he saw the truth in her eyes. And he knew she had good reason to be afraid.

Over the years, he’d seen betrothals called off before the exchange of vows.

He’d spotted many a bloke at the Rogue’s Lair drinking himself numb to ease the sting of a broken engagement.

But Gideon Kentsworth was not downing tumblers of whisky at a tavern.

The man had not retreated to his club to lick his wounds.

No, the high and mighty rotter had ox-headed oafs combing London for a woman who didn’t want to be found.

The bastard was not seeking a tender reconciliation.

Of that, Jon had no doubt. Rather, the jackal sought to reclaim her, as if Belle were a valuable possession.

No man who truly cared for a woman would send those brutes in pursuit.

But even in the face of her own fear, Belle was concerned for the safety of his old housekeeper and the child. God above, she even worried over him. He could bloody well take care of himself in the face of a dandy and his hired thugs.

By thunder, she was willing to put herself in harm’s way to shield the people under his roof. To shield him . The very idea crashed over him like a rogue wave. How bloody unusual.

He would not leave her to face the bastards who chased her like hounds after a fox.

“Do you trust me, Belle?”

She worried her lower lip again, even as she nodded. “I can’t quite explain it, but I do.” Her voice was hushed and smooth as velvet.

Jon studied her features, seeing the taut set of her mouth, the slight, tense creasing of her forehead. He drew the pad of his thumb over her soft, plump lower lip. “You’re trembling.”

“Am I?” A sheen of moisture darkened her blue eyes. It was as if he gazed into a stormy sea.

The sight of her tears felt like a fist twisting in his gut. “Belle, I can help you.” He kept his tone quiet and even. “I need you to tell me what is really happening here.”

“I have,” she said, nearly a whisper.

“You haven’t told me why you ran,” he said, gentling his tone. “You said you had a change of heart. But there had to be something more. Something of such urgency you were compelled to bolt into the night.”

“As I told you, Gideon is a very powerful man. He tends to get what he wants.” She let out a low breath. “But he didn’t count on my determination in the face of his anger.”

Pride rippled through him at the strength in her quiet voice. Belle had not crumbled. She had not meekly complied with whatever demands the bastard made of her. No, she’d defied him. That was the Arabelle he’d known. A lovely face, a kind heart, and a will of steel. Thank God for that.

“When you darted into the pub, you’d run without even knowing a destination.” He met her deep blue eyes. “Tell me this, Belle... did the bastard hurt you?”

“No.” Her lip quivered. “I had to get away from him.” She glanced away, as if the words were too painful to face. “Before it was too late.”

Seeing the stirrings of emotion in her gaze, he tipped up her chin. Every instinct he possessed urged him to comfort her. But bloody hell, he wanted to kiss her.

She looked into his eyes. Her lips parted ever so slightly. Memories of her delicious kiss rushed unbidden into his thoughts. For all those lonely months that had seemed an eternity since he’d left New York, he’d longed for her touch. Longed for her, though he tried to deny it. Even to himself.

And now, she was so very near. Near enough to hold. Near enough to kiss. Would she welcome his caress? Would she respond to his touch? Or would he drive her away?

Blast it, this was not the time. Belle was frightened. Vulnerable. He could not take advantage of this moment.

“Oh, Jon, I don’t know what to do. If he finds me...”

“He won’t.” Jon believed the words as he spoke them. And if he was mistaken, he would deal with the bastard when the time came.

“I haven’t gone far. He must suspect I’m still in the city.”

“The man has no idea where you are,” Jon said truthfully. “Of that, I’m quite confident.”

Questions shone in her eyes. “But how... how can you be sure?”

“Come, sit with me,” he said. Taking her hand, he led her to the chaise.

“One of Kentsworth’s hired oafs came into the pub again this afternoon.

Nosing about the place, the bloke was out to weasel information from the barmaids, but they would not tolerate the buffoon’s attempts to sweet-talk them.

He then tried to find out what the barkeeper had heard about the runaway bride.

For his troubles, Murray served the blockhead a wild goose chase that should set them off the trail for at least a day or two. ”

“I owe Murray a debt of gratitude.” The faintest of smiles played on her mouth. “But it’s not quite so simple as distracting those ruffians. Those muscle-bound oafs may not be our greatest concern.”

Given that the men were ninety-five percent brawn and five percent violence-inclined brain, Jon was tempted to disagree, but he thought better of it. “You suspect another threat?”

“The rumor mill concerns me,” she said. “I have no doubt my aunt will spread gossip about this situation... scandalous lies which may work to Gideon’s advantage.”

“Scandalous, eh?” He mulled the word. When he’d offhandedly mentioned the possibility of a proposal of marriage, if only to silence any whispers of impropriety, Belle’s response had been incredulous.

In all truth, she appeared somewhat horrified at the very thought.

He doubted she had suddenly grown concerned over her good name.

“My aunt knows how to turn a situation to her advantage. It’s only a matter of time before she plants a well-placed rumor that works to her benefit. But what will her strategy be?” Belle pursed her lips, seeming to ponder the question. “She will get involved. After all, she is Gideon’s partner.”

Bloody hell .

“Belle, what are you saying?”

“My aunt, the woman I’d long considered one of my dearest friends, is allied with Gideon. In fact, she is the one who drew me into this ugly scheme.”