Page 95 of Saved By the Belle

She laughed. “Of course. I love him.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’d give up the Pan Long Yin Hao for him.”

“Not the one from the Emperor of China.”

“Yes. I love him that much.”

He looked at Hew. “You’re a lucky man.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but you’ll never have to give up the Long Pan—er, I’ll never ask you to give up a thing. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.”

BELLE HAD THOUGHT HEW was exaggerating in the heat of the moment. Didn’t all prospective grooms pledge the earth and the sun and the moon as well? She should have known better. Hew didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep—though he sometimes took his time in keeping them.

First, he disappeared for three weeks. He’d told her he had to return to the Farm—wherever that was—and he’d be back in London to marry her as soon as possible. He’d arranged for Belle and her father to stay at Mivart’s as long as they wanted. But Belle and her father were more than happy to return to their flat and Howard’s Teas & Treats. The shop still smelled of smoke, but they worked tirelessly to repair the fire damage, air it out, and restock the teas and other sundries. Mrs. Tipps checked on them daily, and Mrs. Price helped with the cleaning and dusting. They tried to keep her from stocking. She tended to misplace items and then one found them in the oddest places later. As much as Belle wanted to dislike Mrs. Price, she had to admit, she was a helpful neighbor. And Belle didn’t mind that there seemed to be growing affection between her father and Mrs. Price. After all, she didn’t want her father to be all alone when she married.

If she married.

Almost three weeks after calling the banns, Belle still hadn’t seen or heard from Hew. She put on a brave face but was beginning to think he might have been a figment of her imagination. That was until his mother stepped into the tea shop.

Belle dropped her dusting rag. “Lady Eleanor!”

“Ah,” she said looking around, the feather in her stylish cap swaying with her movements. “You remember me.”

“Of course.”

Her father emerged from the back room just then, and she introduced him to Hew’s mother. He gave her a courtly bow then said, “And where is your errant son? He seems to have disappeared.”

Lady Eleanor’s brows went up. “He said he wrote to you. He will be in Town tomorrow for the wedding.” Her gaze swept over Belle’s work dress. “Is that what you plan to wear?”

“I...” She was at a loss for words. “I didn’t receive a letter.” She looked at her father. “Did you?”

“No. Come to think of it, we’ve not received any mail for the last few days.” His eyes met Belle’s. “Mrs. Price!” they said in unison.

“I’ll go find her,” her father said.

“She won’t remember where she’s put it. She’ll say somewhere safe.” But he was already out the door and heading for Mrs. Price’s house just down the street.

“I take it you haven’t purchased a wedding dress?” Lady Eleanor asked.

“I have a blue dress upstairs.”

“No!” Hew’s mother shook her head firmly. “You need a new dress—a white dress. That’s all the fashion now. We’ll see my modiste. She will probably faint from the late notice, but I pay her a fortune, so she’ll do it. Let’s go. My carriage is waiting.”

“I can’t leave,” Belle said. “The shop—”

“We have an entire wedding to plan in less than twenty-four hours, Miss Howard.” Lady Eleanor clapped. “Pressez-vous un peu!”

Belle had no idea what language Lady Eleanor spoke or what her words meant, but she closed the shop and followed her into her waiting carriage. Twenty-four hours later, she was still reeling from the whirlwind of activity, and she clutched her father’s arm tightly as he walked her up the aisle of a beautiful church in Hanover Square.

The wedding party was small. On her side were Mr. Dormer and her sister as well as the Tipps and Mrs. Price, who was wiping her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

On Hew’s side, she saw his mother and his father, whom she had only met the night before. Willoughby Galloway had come as well and beside him was a lovely blond woman who must be his wife. And lastly—Lady Keating! Belle had smiled at seeing the baroness. How had she even known about the wedding? Lady Keating smiled back at her then looked toward the front of the church.

Belle looked too, and her breath caught in her throat. She’d forgotten to look at Hew. But there he stood—straight and tall, his blue eyes warm with admiration for her. It struck her then that she was really marrying him. He was marrying her!

Her heart began to pound, and she was glad her sister had forced her to eat that slice of toast this morning. She felt as though she might faint.

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