Page 93 of Saved By the Belle

“That doesn’t mean she’ll say yes.”

And with that, he did walk away, leaving Hew to sink down on a couch and stare up at the ceiling, feeling desperate and uncertain.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Belle had decided that the luxury of hot water and a bathtub was something she could become used to. She’d bathed and washed her hair and dressed in her own clothes as Hew had arranged for clothing from their flat to be sent. She didn’t know how he arranged these things, but she was glad to be in her own dress. When she stepped out of her bed chamber, she found her father seated at the small table in the center of their suite at Mivart’s. He had his own bed chamber and from the look of it, his own bath.

She smiled at him, crossed to the table, and kissed his cheek. “You still look tired,” she said.

“I’m fine. I’m eager to go home and open the shop.”

Belle frowned and sat across from him. “I’m afraid we still have a bit of work to do to make it ready. I’ll hire a few boys and take care of everything. You should rest.”

He buttered a piece of toast. “I’ll rest when the shop is open again. The way you run it means I’m hardly needed.”

“Nonsense. Half our customers come in to speak with you and ask for your recommendations.

He raised a brow. “And all of them take your recommendations and come back because of the tea you suggest. But if working in the shop is not something you’d like to continue—”

“What? Of course, I want to continue. There’s nothing else I’d rather do, save buy the teas. But what’s the point in purchasing the best tea if I can’t share it with others?”

“Don’t you ever want to marry?”

Belle stared at her father. He’d asked her this before, but there was something different in his voice this morning. “I-I don’t know. But even if I were married, I wouldn’t give up the shop.”

“Not all men want a wife who works in a shop all day.”

“No one is lining up at my door to propose.”

Just then a knock sounded.

“Don’t be so sure,” her father muttered. “I’ll get that,” he said and rose. Belle watched him walk to the door. He opened it, murmured something to the person on the other side, then said, “Excuse me, my dear.”

Belle watched him walk to his room then glanced at the door to see Hew close it behind him. She frowned. “I thought you would be on your way back by now. Mr. Galloway seemed to think Baron Keating had much to discuss with you.”

“I do need to speak with him.” He started toward her. “We’ll need to coordinate with the Home Office and the railroads to take Pennywhistle into custody and charge him with sabotage, among other crimes.”

“Don’t forget arson.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t dare, and I didn’t dare leave without speaking to you first.”

“Go on. You want to thank me for giving you the brilliant plan last night? I told you my father was alive, and I told you my plan would work.”

He was standing beside her chair now, looking down at her. “I should always listen to you. You were right. About everything.”

Belle opened her mouth then closed it again. She was used to acting more confident than she felt, used to putting on a brave face with young, handsome men like Hew Arundel. That was if they looked at her twice. And now Hew was looking at her quite intently.

“Do you know what else you were right about?”

Her heart had begun to beat faster, making her feel a little dizzy and lightheaded. “No,” she said, her voice all but a whisper.

“You said I would beg you to marry me.”

“And?” Her heart was about to leap from her chest. This was not happening. He was not about to propose.

“You were right.” He sank to one knee and took her hand.

“What are you doing?” Panic crept into her chest and gripped her lungs so that she couldn’t seem to take a deep breath.

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