Page 54 of The Rogue’s Runaway Bride (Rogue of Her Own #3)

N ew York at Christmastime held a special place in Belle’s heart.

As a girl, she’d delighted in ice skating in the park and singing festive carols.

Now, introducing her young daughter to the many wonders to be found in the city brought a special sense of joy.

Gathered with friends and family on a cold and snowy day following an enjoyable excursion to the remarkable toy store in Union Square, she smiled to herself as Carrie sat by the hearth, hosting a pretend tea party, serving sweet cakes instead of mud pies to the MacLains’ toddler son, Finnegan.

The boy eagerly nibbled one of the tasty treats, while the other guests—Carrie’s new stuffed elephant and her treasured Anna—looked on with make-believe eyes.

“My, that is certainly a well-loved doll,” Amelia MacLain observed, rocking her infant daughter on her lap.

Her blue eyes sparkled as she lowered her voice to a whisper.

“I’ve brought your little girl a gift from London, a collection of Robert Louis Stevenson’s poems for children.

I acquired the most beautiful illustrated edition for my library, and I thought she might enjoy one as well. ”

“How very thoughtful,” Belle said. “She will love it, and so will I.”

“Finnegan was enchanted by trains at the toy store. We shall have to pay another visit.” Amelia brushed a wayward ginger-gold curl behind her ear.

“Carrie cannot wait to return,” Belle said. “She had her eye on a stuffed rabbit in a beautiful paisley print.”

“That was quite an appealing creation,” Amelia said, brushing her fingers through her baby’s strawberry blonde curls. The girl bore a striking resemblance to her mother, while little Finnegan was the very image of his father, with deep brown hair and eyes as dark as midnight.

Mrs. Gilroy strolled in from the kitchen, bearing a tray of scones and a fresh pot of tea, then joined them in the sitting room. In the months since she’d arrived in New York, she’d grown very close to Belle. The woman had become a friend, a sage advisor, and, most of all, a part of their family.

Mrs. Gilroy poured herself a cup of tea and took a bite of scone.

“Have ye had a chance to take a look at the ornaments on the Christmas tree, Mrs. MacLain?” She went to the decorated spruce and retrieved one of the salt and flour ornaments that dotted the branches.

“The wee lass has been busy,” she said with a touch of pride.

Amelia examined the ornament cut in the shape of a candy cane. “Carrie made this?”

“It’s become a holiday tradition,” Belle said. “Carrie enjoys making them as gifts for birthdays as well.”

“She made me a lovely one for my special day last month.” Belle’s grandmother walked slowly into the room, lightly tapping her elegantly carved walking stick against the floor. She beamed as her doting gaze settled on Carrie. “I have it hanging over the dresser in my bedchamber.”

“Grammy Pru, would you like to see my new tabby?” Carrie hurried to greet Belle’s grandmother. With a grin, she displayed the stuffed animal Belle had purchased for her at the toy store. “Isn’t she pretty?”

“That she is, dear,” Grammy Pru gave her a hug. “What is her name?”

“Pru... Prudence,” the girl said. “I named her after you.”

“Did you now?” A twinkle lit Grammy Pru’s eyes.

“What a special honor.” Her attention returned to the table where Carrie had been having her little pretend party.

Little Finnegan gazed up at her, his mouth dusted with sugar from the cookie he’d been enjoying.

“Have you forgotten you have a guest, dear?”

“Oh, my,” Carrie said in a rather dramatic fashion. “I must be a good hostess, mustn’t I?”

“Most definitely,” Grammy agreed. As Carrie returned to join Finnegan, Grammy made her way to the settee.

“Oh, Belle, I’m so delighted to see children playing in this house.

” She clasped Belle’s hand within hers. “I’m over the moon to spend this Christmas with you.

” She glanced toward Mrs. Gilroy and Amelia. “And your dear friends.”

“It’s my pleasure to be here with you,” Amelia said. “I understand we will be able to a Christmas pageant together later this week.”

“I do think you will enjoy it. It’s a marvelous production,” Grammy replied.

Her grandmother’s attention turned to the tree. “I must say, Belle, you’ve decorated the tree quite beautifully.”

“I’d say we’ve all had a part in it,” Belle said, joining Grammy on the small sofa. “Some might think it’s a bit, well, a bit much, with the eclectic array of ornaments, but they’re all quite special to me.”

Grammy clasped Belle’s fingers in hers. “Carrie’s handcrafted pieces are a wonderful touch.” She smiled warmly. “I’ve brought something for you, dear. I have kept this for a very long time. But now, I want you to have it.”

Her grandmother presented her with a small box. Belle slowly lifted the lid, revealing a snowflake ornament made of lacy yarn.

“Grandmama, I don’t quite understand.”

“Don’t you remember, my sweet girl?” Her grandmother’s eyes brightened. “You made this for me a very long time ago.” The most adoring of smiles curved her mouth. “You were about Carrie’s age at the time.”

“You... you’ve kept this?” Emotion swelled in Belle’s heart. “All this time?”

Her grandmother nodded. “All this time.” Her tone was filled with love. “I did not merely keep it. I treasured it. And many years from now, you will look back upon the handmade ornaments on that tree, and you will cherish them more than the most elegant spun glass bauble.”

“I know,” she said. “Just as I treasure these memories we’re making now.”

“You are a dear girl, Belle. You and your mother and your brother are the greatest gifts of my life. And now,” she said, looking at Carrie. “Now, you’ve given me another to treasure. A great-granddaughter—how very wonderful.”

Tears filled Belle’s eyes as she hugged her grandmother. She would not have traded these precious days for the wealth of a queen.

As she sniffled against her handkerchief, the sound of Logan MacLain’s hearty baritone pulled her attention to the doorway.

Moments later, Logan made his entrance. Dressed in a black wool coat, hat, and scarf, he cut quite a dashing figure.

His attention went straight to his wife.

They exchanged a long glance, and then he offered greetings.

“Might I ask where my husband is?” Belle asked, sensing some plot or other was afoot. Judging from the hearty smile on Logan’s face, she had reason to believe she would be pleased by the surprise.

“He’s on his way. He had one last stop to make.”

Belle hiked a brow. “Are you telling me he actually went to a shop rather than sending his assistant?”

“That would be the case,” he replied blandly. A brief grin played on his features. “It’s a surprise.” He helped himself to a scone and joined his wife on the sofa.

“A surprise?” Belle pressed.

“Ah, lass, ye will not pry the truth out of me. I’m made of sterner stuff than that.”

“He is,” Amelia agreed with a chuckle. “A true keeper of secrets.”

“Well, I suppose I should brace myself,” Belle said.

“That might be a good idea,” Logan agreed. Changing the subject, he said, “I believe Mrs. Johnstone will arrive tomorrow. The Dragon is still in Boston.”

“Dragon?” Grammy repeated with a hint of a grin. “How intriguing.”

“I’ll explain later, Grandmama,” Belle said. Turning back to Logan, she took a sip of tea. “I do hope her train has not been delayed.”

“Actually, she is staying by choice. Her message mentioned exploring Boston Harbor. She’s quite the aficionado of history.”

“So I’d gathered,” Belle said. “When she arrives, I’ll be pleased to show her the sights in New York.”

“I suspect the woman could take ye to parts of Manhattan ye’ve never seen,” he said. “She was quite an adventurous sort when she was with the agency.”

“Somehow, that does not surprise me,” Belle said. Not very much, in any case .

An unexpected sound tore her attention from the conversation. A series of yips and small barks, coming from the direction of the front steps to their house.

Hearing the noise, Carrie stood up and ran to the window. “Papa is home.”

Papa? Belle had not expected Jon’s return to be announced by the sounds a dog—a young dog, at that—might make.

Precisely what is the nature of our surprise? Belle wasn’t sure whether to be delighted or fit to be tied.

Moments later, Jon strolled through the door, bearing a green traveling bag that bore a striking resemblance to Heathy’s blue case. What was going on?

“Hello, my darling wife,” Jon said, greeting her at the door.

“Hello, Jon,” she said. “Might I ask what you’re carrying?”

“I believe you already know the answer.” He grinned. “A gift that will require care and feeding, and perhaps, a pair of earplugs for me.”

Carrie bounded to him. “Oh, Papa, is it—”

Crouching low, he set the case on the floor and gave her a hug. “I’ve been doing some thinking, and I realize there’s one thing we need to make this family complete.” He grinned. “Take a look at our newest addition.”

Carrie peered into the case and let out a squeal of delight. “Oh, Papa, he’s so cute.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Jon flashed Mrs. Gilroy a winning smile. “Might I have the morning edition... just in case.”

With a quick nod, Mrs. Gilroy went to fetch the paper.

“You brought home a puppy?” Belle looked on in open amazement as her grandmother chuckled.

“I did,” Jon said. He met her eyes. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I suppose I didn’t think to consider that you might not be pleased.”

“To the contrary, Jon.” She threw her arms around him. “I could not be more surprised. And delighted.”

He pretended to wipe imaginary perspiration from his brow. “By thunder, that is a relief. You had me fooled for a moment.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Another kiss—much more than a quick press of her lips—would come later, when she had him alone. “This is a wonderful gift.”