Page 39 of The Rogue’s Runaway Bride (Rogue of Her Own #3)

T he yips of Heathy’s agitated barking roused Belle from what had been a thoroughly pleasant slumber. Still foggy with sleep, she left the warmth of the bed and slipped into her dressing gown. Still, the barks continued. It wasn’t like Heathy to carry on without a reason. Something was wrong.

Hurrying to investigate, she rushed down the hallway, following the sound to the front window of the sitting room. Mrs. Gilroy stood by the curtains, peering out the window as Heathy finally quieted.

Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Carrie made her way into the room, clutching her rather ragged-looking doll. “What’s wrong with Heathy?” she asked, punctuating the question with a little yawn.

“Now that is a good question,” Mrs. Gilroy said, her brow furrowed, even as the look in her eyes hinted that she knew more than she was letting on. She turned to Belle. “Whatever it was that had him riled up, it’s gone now.”

Carrie went to the window and peeked outside into the morning haze. “The sun is rising.”

“It is rather early,” Belle said. “Would you like me to tuck you back in bed? You could sleep a while longer.”

The child shook her head. “I’m not sleepy now,” she said, even as she yawned.

“She’ll be needing a nap this afternoon,” Mrs. Gilroy predicted.

“I might as well,” Belle said with a little laugh.

“Carrie, will ye take Heathy to yer playroom for a bit while I finish making breakfast?”

“Of course,” Carrie said, sounding rather formal. Smiling proudly at her responsibility, she cheerfully led the pup away. As her footsteps skipped down the hall, Mrs. Gilroy settled onto a chair, a look of concern on her features.

“The dog was not barking at thin air,” she said. “At first, I thought Mr. Mason had returned. He left for his office at the crack of dawn. But it wasn’t him.”

“Perhaps Heathy detected a rabbit or something of that sort in the yard.”

“It is possible, I suppose.” Mrs. Gilroy’s mouth thinned. “Perhaps another dog is running about. I’ll check with the neighbors to see if their hound went on an adventure.”

“Or it might’ve been an amorous cat on the prowl,” Belle said as Cleo strolled into the room. “That might well leave Heathy in a stir.”

“One can hope it was only an animal.” Mrs. Gilroy patted Belle on the hand. “In any case, these doors are stout, the bolts are strong, and I’ve got my rolling pin close at hand in case anyone does get in.”

“Of course, we can’t forget the parasols Mrs. Johnstone left,” Belle said, forcing a smile.

Mrs. Gilroy made a scoffing sound. “I’ll take my rolling pin any day over one of those gadgets.

But ye might want to keep yer brolly nearby.

Just in case.” She turned to the window again, taking another searching look.

“And Belle, promise me ye will not take the wee lass into the garden. Not until we can be sure it was, indeed, nothing to worry over.”

“That would be the wisest course,” Belle agreed.

“When ye take my advice, it always is, lass.” The old woman broke into a grin that brought a smile to Belle’s face. “Ye will not go wrong.”

*

“Miss Blake is here. And she’s brought a parcel for ye—quite an expensive one, from the looks of it.

” Mrs. Gilroy announced as she peered inside Carrie’s playroom.

Her careworn features creased into a warm smile as her gaze fell upon the girl’s efforts to poke a threaded embroidery needle through the plain dress of her rag doll.

“Ye’re teaching those busy little fingers to be productive.

I must say, ye’re doing a fine job of it. ”

“Thank you,” Belle said with a sincere smile.

“As her doll is ‘all better now’ since I stitched it after its unfortunate encounter with Heathy, she’s decided Anna needs a fancier dress.

She’s learning to embroider, one little stitch at a time.

” Pride in the child’s perfectly imperfect stitchwork filled her heart.

She turned to Carrie. “We shall have to show Miss Blake your handiwork after we take tea.”

“And biscuits?” the girl added with a hopeful little grin.

“Of course,” Mrs. Gilroy said. “Miss Blake is waiting in the sitting room. I’ll bring the tea service there.”

“Thank you,” Belle said as she took the doll from the child’s hands and placed her on a shelf, well out of Heathy’s mischievous reach. “We’ll leave Anna here, just for a while.”

“I’ll bring my new doll,” Carrie said, taking a porcelain doll from the shelf. “She looks very pretty in her lace gown.”

“She does indeed, lass.”

“Mrs. Gilroy, you mentioned that Ellie has brought a package,” Belle said. “Are you quite certain it’s for me?”

Mrs. Gilroy shrugged. “I believe that’s what the miss said.” A sly smile played on her mouth as she turned to take her leave. “Ye’ll find out, soon enough.”

Carrie dashed down the corridor toward the sitting room. Belle wasn’t sure what motivated the child more—the opportunity to see Ellie or the prospect of tea and biscuits.

“Well, there you are.” Ellie smiled as Belle followed the little girl into the sitting room. “I suppose Mrs. Gilroy told you I’d brought you something new from the dressmaker.”

“She did not reveal that detail,” Belle said. “But really, I don’t need anything else.”

“When I stopped by the shop, I simply could not resist this.” Ellie opened the box and removed a crisp linen blouse with perfect blue pinstripes. “It’s perfect for you.”

Belle held it up against her. “It is lovely, Ellie. But this does feel a bit indulgent.”

“Don’t be silly,” Ellie laughed. “Of course, I simply had to take this as well.” She held up an elegant cape of stormy blue wool trimmed with black velvet. “It will look striking on you. Every bit the governess... wouldn’t you agree?”

“Most definitely,” Belle said. “But still, I don’t truly need it.”

“Of course you do,” Ellie replied. “Besides, I thought I might borrow it on some occasion when I feel the urge to appear prim and proper.”

Belle ran her fingertips over the soft fabric. “This is on Jon’s account?”

“Absolutely.” Ellie grinned. “I wouldn’t give it another thought. Believe me, the man can afford it.”

“She speaks the truth,” Mrs. Gilroy said as she returned with the tea cart. To Belle’s surprise, Mrs. Johnstone stood by her side.

“I do hope ye don’t mind me calling upon ye unexpectedly. I have news, something ye’ll want to know.” As Mrs. Johnstone crossed the threshold, she seemed to hesitate as her gaze pulled to Carrie, who sat on the rug, happily playing with her dolls.

“Mrs. Johnstone, it’s a pleasure to see you,” Belle said.

Ellie spoke up. “Is everything well?”

Mrs. Johnstone’s drawn expression offered an answer to her question. “We will talk over our tea.” She turned to Mrs. Gilroy. “I have something we need to discuss. Might I trouble ye to see Carrie to her playroom?”

Mrs. Gilroy nodded, taking her meaning. “I trust ye’ll tell me what’s happening.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Johnstone said, then took another sip of oolong. “This is certainly information you need to know.”

With another nod of understanding, Mrs. Gilroy smiled down at the girl. “Carrie, let’s see if ye can finish that pretty picture ye were drawing. And bring yer dolls, lass.” She started for the door with Carrie close behind.

As soon as the child bustled out of the room, Mrs. Johnstone gently set her teacup on the table. “I take it Jon is not home at the moment.”

“The man is up with the sun and out until dark most days,” Ellie said, pouring tea for each of them. “He is dedicated to his enterprises.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected,” Belle said.

“Perhaps too dedicated,” Ellie observed as Mrs. Johnstone flashed a look of agreement. “He’s done everything he could to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Johnstone said. “I’ve often wondered if he might have been less, how shall I say it, willing to mold himself into his father’s image if he’d remained the second son.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. He is the oldest child.” Belle said as the words swirled in her thoughts. “Isn’t he?”

Ellie slowly shook her head. Her mouth pulled into a somber line. “Jon was not his parents’ firstborn child. He and Macie had an older brother.” She seemed to pull in a steadying breath. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Belle said. “I assumed he was the eldest son and his father’s heir.”

“I suspect it is a painful subject for him,” Mrs. Johnstone said. “There was a family tragedy, you see. Jon was quite young at the time, only about seven or so. Finn shared with me that no one in the family speaks of the accident.”

“How very sad,” Belle managed as emotion welled in her throat. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Mrs. Johnstone nodded. “One day, many years ago, Jonathan and his family were at the family’s country home.

He and his older brother had been climbing a tree which overlooked a stream.

There’d been quite a bit of rain, and the creek was swollen.

A limb cracked, and Jon fell into the water.

Edward didn’t hesitate to go after him. He managed to save Jon, but the poor lad was overcome by the current. He was swept away.”

For a moment, Belle felt as though an invisible hand had squeezed her heart. “How awful.”

“Macie once told me she has a hazy memory of her eldest brother,” Ellie added. “She was quite young at the time, perhaps Carrie’s age.”

“She mentioned that to me as well,” Mrs. Johnstone said. “Macie believes the loss of his oldest son changed her father. He threw himself into his enterprises. And as ye might imagine, he expected Jon to do the same.”

“Jon has certainly followed in his father’s footsteps,” Ellie observed. “Macie suspects he has shouldered a sense of guilt over the accident, even though he was a child and had done nothing to cause it.”

“His mum—my, she is a lovely woman—tried her best to comfort him,” Mrs. Johnstone added.

“Even through her own pain, she did what she could to ease his mind. Maggie once told me Jon had always been a conscientious lad, but after the accident, he felt a need to do whatever it took to meet his father’s expectations.

He dreaded the thought of letting him down. ”

Belle’s heart sank. Jon had endured such horrible sadness at such a young age. He’d been so very young when he’d suffered the painful loss.

Suddenly, the rhythmic thuds of a man’s boots along the length of the corridor drifted into the room. Belle felt the sudden stillness as they all heard the sound.

“I asked Jon to meet us here. I presume he has arrived,” Mrs. Johnstone said while taking her weighted parasol in hand. She met Belle’s gaze. “But one can never be too cautious.”

He strode into the room with Heathy at his heels. Both man and dog appeared to hesitate as they spotted Mrs. Johnstone’s defensive posture. “Well, I must say, that’s not the greeting I’d expected.”

“In these times, it is precisely the greeting ye should expect,” Mrs. Johnstone said. The quiet steel in her voice unleashed a fresh wave of tension in Belle’s chest. What had the woman learned that had prompted her visit?

Jon strolled toward the chairs where they sat. “I believe I’ve had nightmares like this—an alliance forming, with Ellie Blake as their leader.”

Ellie laughed softly. “When Macie returns, I shall see if she would like to assume that role.”

“For the time being, I suspect she will have her hands busy with other matters,” Jon replied. “She’s expecting her babe not long after they return.”

Ellie gave a little shrug. “Knowing Macie as I do, I doubt that will stop her.”

“Ye may be right,” Mrs. Gilroy said with a little shrug as she rejoined them.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Jon said with a shrug. He settled into a chair near the fireplace and stretched out his long legs. “By the way, Miss Blake, I understand you had a fine time shopping.”

“Miss Blake, is it?” Ellie chuckled. “Regarding your comment, I did have a grand time, indeed. There was something quite liberating about shopping for someone else. And with someone else’s money. What could be more enjoyable?”

Mrs. Johnstone took a sip of her tea. “Now that we’ve enjoyed an exchange of pleasantries, I suppose I should tell you why I’ve come today.”

Jon’s brow furrowed. “What in blazes is going on?”

Her expression somber, Mrs. Johnstone spoke in a low voice. “I’ve made numerous inquiries about the city, and what I’ve learned... shall we say it is a most troubling development.”