Page 48 of The Rogue’s Runaway Bride (Rogue of Her Own #3)

N ot quite forty-eight hours after Gideon and his hired thugs had invaded Jon’s home, Belle joined Ellie and Mrs. Gilroy on the garden terrace for tea and biscuits.

All in all, she and the housekeeper were in remarkably good spirits.

The ordeal had seemed a testament to their inner strength.

They had met danger head-on. They had survived. And they had triumphed.

While taking tea and enjoying a bit of pleasantly bland conversation, they welcomed Mrs. Johnstone upon her arrival.

As she settled in with a cup of piping hot oolong, Belle uttered the question that had been weighing on her mind.

“Have you any word on Mr. Northcutt—the true Mr. Northcutt, that is?”

“The physicians are confident he will make a full recovery,” Mrs. Johnstone replied, stirring sugar into her tea.

“It’s distressing to think the poor man suffered an assault at the hands of Gideon’s horrible lackeys.” Belle stared down at her hands, gathering her thoughts. “I would never have imagined Gideon was capable of such ruthlessness.”

“The man is a viper who possesses a false charm,” Ellie said.

“He is a skilled deceiver.” Mrs. Johnstone met Belle’s gaze. “From what I’ve unearthed, the man has left a trail of heartache. Thank God ye realized he was a fraud before it was too late.”

Belle drew in a calming breath. “Indeed, I regret ever making his acquaintance.”

“Ye could not have known the man was a snake in disguise,” Mrs. Gilroy said. “He put ye through a nightmare. But I must say, if I may be so bold, I do believe something good has come of it.”

“And what might that be?” Mrs. Johnstone said lightly.

“Ye know full well what I’m getting at,” Mrs. Gilroy replied and took a bite of a scone with jam.

“Of course I do,” Mrs. Johnstone replied. “Belle, ye’ve been good for Jon. I can see it in his eyes.”

“Indeed. As a matter of fact, his sister is of the same mind on the subject,” Ellie said as Cleo slinked past the small sofa where Belle and Ellie sat. The midnight-black feline eyed the saucers on the table with mischief in her golden eyes.

“Macie?” Belle sat up a bit straighter. “She’s back in London?”

Ellie smiled. “She arrived last night. Macie is quite excited at the prospect of meeting the woman who finally took the starch out of her brother’s collar.”

“How delightful. I’ve been looking forward to making her acquaintance,” Belle said. “Though I certainly do not see that I’ve taken any starch out of Jonathan Mason. I do know if it is even possible.”

Mrs. Gilroy chuckled, a hearty, happy sound. “Ye cannot see it, lass. But we can, and believe me, there’s a change in him. And in my opinion, it’s for the better.”

“I must agree,” Mrs. Johnstone said. “I’m quite positive Macie will as well.”

“She and Finn are planning to stop by shortly after supper,” Ellie went on. “She’s excited to see Carrie again. And, of course, she wants to retrieve Cleo. She truly misses that minx of a cat.”

“Carrie is taking her afternoon nap, so she’ll be refreshed when they arrive,” Belle said. “You know she gets a little cranky when she’s tired.”

“Don’t we all?” Ellie said with a light laugh. “I don’t believe Macie has seen Carrie since she was a babe in arms.”

After Miss Macie and her husband return from their travels, they’ll take the child into their home.

Mrs. Gilroy had explained the plan for Carrie’s guardianship soon after Belle had arrived. Belle had known all along that she wouldn’t have much time to watch over the girl. Yet now, the housekeeper’s no-nonsense explanation felt like a fist in her belly.

Taking a sip of tea, she steeled herself against the inevitable sadness. It was for the best, wasn’t it? If she remained in London—if she and Jon were indeed on a path toward a future together—she would still be able to spend nurturing time with the child.

But in truth, she didn’t really know what the future held.

Oh, she knew what was in her heart, and she didn’t doubt that Jon cared deeply for her.

He’d risked his life to protect her from Gideon’s vile scheme.

But since Gideon’s arrest, she and Jon had scarcely carved out a moment alone.

Between interviews with the Metropolitan police detectives, tearful moments of reflection she’d shared with Mrs. Gilroy, quiet hours with Carrie to return a bit of calmness to the child’s life after what she’d experienced, and well-meaning visitors who wished to offer their support, she’d had little time with Jon to discuss anything beyond the day’s events.

No moments alone when they might look ahead to the path they would follow together. Or, perhaps, travel on their own.

She took another sip and plastered on a smile. It wouldn’t do to let the twinges of sadness show through. This was supposed to be a time of happiness. She certainly should not dim the pleasant moments.

Mrs. Johnstone met Belle’s gaze, seeming to study her. Had the keen-eyed woman read the conflicting emotions playing in her thoughts?

“Belle, I do hope this is not an inopportune time to broach the subject, but Jon has dispatched two of his employees to gather yer things from yer aunt’s residence,” she said. “Evidently, since the police put Kentsworth behind bars, Lady Willsbury has become quite cooperative.”

“I’ll be thankful to have my books and journal again. I’d left them all behind.” She turned to Ellie. “Since your shopping spree, I have not missed my wardrobe nearly so much.”

“A lady can never have too many dresses,” Ellie replied with a cheeky grin. “Or shoes or hats, for that matter.”

“I used to believe that, but now, I’m not so very sure.

” Belle spoke the truth. There were so many things that mattered more to her, precious things no amount of money could buy.

But she wasn’t about to say that and dim Ellie’s smile.

So instead, she spoke another truth. “I’m rather concerned that my oak chest will never, ever hold so many garments.

The doors might well pop off their hinges. ”

Ellie grinned again. “Now that, my friend, is an excellent problem to have.”

“It certainly is,” Belle said. Pity that was not the problem truly weighing on her heart.

*

“My goodness, it’s true, isn’t it?” Macie Mason Caldwell flashed a grin. “My big brother has been hiding the fact that he’s quite the hero.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jon replied. “You do realize Belle prevented a towering fool from putting a knife in me.”

“A fitting heroine for my dear brother.” Macie wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Are you now?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“Very much so.” Macie beamed. “Now, enough of this admiration society. I wish to take this time to get to know Belle.”

As the women entered into a robust conversation, Finn pulled Jon aside. “Miss Frost is a beauty, Jon. Clever, too. So, why doesn’t she have yer ring on her finger?”

Jon took a drink of the whisky in his tumbler. “Logan’s been talking, has he?”

“He told me ye’ve got yer grandmother’s ring.” Finn drummed his fingers over the edge of the table. “When are ye going to inform the lass she’ll have to put up with ye for the rest of yer days?”

Jon took another drink as he set his gaze on Belle. She looked especially beautiful tonight. She wore a dress in a rich shade of blue that brought out the sapphire hue of her eyes, while her honey-gold hair, swept back and held in place with mother-of-pearl combs, framed her lovely oval face.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me tomorrow night. I’ve made a reservation at the most elegant restaurant in town. After dinner, a walk along London Bridge in the moonlight should set the mood. And then, I will propose.”

“Impressive,” Finn said. “So ye’ve worked it all out, have ye?”

“You know me well, my friend. Never without a plan.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve heard yer beauty showed up most unexpectedly.”

His gaze wandered back to Belle. “That is an understatement.”

“Aye, sometimes the best things in life come to us when we have no bloody expectations.”

“Indeed.” Picturing Belle’s drenched dress and hair, Jon smiled to himself. She’d been a true diamond, even sopping wet in a muck-caked gown. “Wiser words have seldom been spoken.”

They embarked on a spirited discussion as Finn recounted the months he and Macie had spent on the road, photographing everything from Egyptian monuments to flower stands in the heart of Paris.

Finn and Macie had the time of their lives, and now, with their honeymoon behind them and a new babe on the way, they were ready to settle into their new London home.

Delighted to see Macie again, Mrs. Gilroy had joined in the reunion.

For all of her grumblings, the old woman was at her happiest in the company of the women who now chatted amiably in his sitting room.

Why, she’d even warmed up to Cleo. Over time, Mrs. Gilroy had become much more than a housekeeper to him. She’d come to feel like family.

Carrie had also joined in the cordial gathering.

Intrigued by the photographs of Macie’s travels, the child was eager to learn how to use a camera.

She and Macie had taken to each other with a natural ease, though it was Belle the girl ran to for comfort when she became a bit weary of the excitement.

Soon, Carrie would be living with his sister and her family. The little girl would have a baby to dote on and a loving home. Macie and Finn would be nurturing parents. And he and Belle would certainly have the opportunity to visit as frequently as they wished.

He knew it was for the best. His sister was settled into her life with Finn. She was delighted by the prospect of bringing the little one into her fold.

So why did the thought of Carrie living somewhere—anywhere—other than under his own roof feel like a punch to the gut?