Page 101 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
“If I am disappointed, that is not truly your fault, now is it?” She cocked her chin, meeting his eyes. “I suppose I should have learned my lesson in New York.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “What are you saying?”
“You know full well what I mean,” she said. “I thought you had changed... I thoughtwehad changed. But I was wrong. It’s all the same.”
“Arabelle, I love you. Surely you don’t doubt that.” His voice was low and husky with emotion.
Ah, how she wanted him. How she adored him. Heaven knew she wanted to spend her life with him. Pity destiny might well have something else in mind.
“I love you, Jon. But I’m not quite sure loving you is enough.” Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes. “Nothing can change the bitter truth: I know where your heart lies. And it isn’t with me.”
“You know that’s not true.” He scrubbed his hand over his bristled jaw. “There’s no one else.”
She choked back tears she refused to shed. Heaven knew she’d cried enough over this man in New York. “I think this is a fine time for me to get some rest. Mrs. Johnstone will be here bright and early in the morning, and I have much to do.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I am going home.”
“Belle, I love you.” The rawness in his voice cut through her like a blade.
“I believe that you do love me. But I know what is in my heart.” She pinned him with her gaze. “In the morning, I will seek accommodations outside of this house. And then, I will sail to New York. I shall wait for you, for a time at least. But for now, I prefer to be on my own.”
“Darling, don’t be angry.” He followed her to the door, but she turned away from his embrace.
“I am not angry. Far from it,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady, her tone cool. “For now, I need to clear my head. This has all been a bit too much to bear.” She reached out to him, tracing her fingertips over the dark stubble on his jaw. “I will wait for you in New York. You have my heart. But it’s up to you to claim it.”
Again, he raked his long fingers through his hair. “Arabelle, I love you so bloody much.”
“I love you, too, Jon. More than you know. But for now... I need a bit of distance. Perhaps an ocean’s worth.” She turned away. “Good night, my love.”
Chapter Thirty
Three days hadpassed since Mrs. Johnstone had arrived at his home, intent on assisting Belle with the logistics of her return to New York. In that time, Jon had gone about his duties as if each hour that passed by was no different than any other in his life. And not one moment closer to the time when Belle would board a train to Southampton, and then, the steamer for the transatlantic crossing which would take her home.
The very thought of Belle being an ocean away robbed him of his ability to concentrate. Stripped away his ability to focus on something—anything—besides what he might well be losing. Even sleep provided no respite, not with the agitated dreams which tore him from his rest.
He had no real cause to feel as he did. Or so the logical voice in his thoughts tried to convince his heart. It wasn’t as if Belle was leaving him forever. She would wait for him in America. Those words had come from her own lips. This was not a parting intended to last for the rest of their days.
This time, he would come to her. But despite his rational reasoning, his gut instinct argued that he was wrong. A frost had formed between them. He saw it clearly when he looked into Belle’s eyes. When he did join her, would the spark still flare between them? Or would the ice have become impenetrable?
I should have learned my lesson in New York.
Her words had struck him harder than the blows the ox-of-a-man Roderick had hammered into him.Bloody hell.He’d let her down. And he’d hurt her. Again.
But still, he went about his routine. At his office, he conducted business as usual. But when he returned home at the end of each day, the truth slugged him like a dirty punch to the gut.
Belle had accepted Ellie’s offer to reside in her flat until she was set to leave for the dock at Southampton. There, she spent her days preparing for the voyage and devoting precious hours to visiting with Carrie at his sister’s home. They’d all agreed it would be best for the girl to come to know her soon-to-be adoptive parents and grow comfortable with the house which would be her new home. After all, that had been the plan.
This had been what he’d wanted all along. Wasn’t it?
Now, the place was so blasted quiet. The genial chaos that had greeted him for weeks had suddenly disappeared. Even Heathy had returned home with Logan after the Scot came to the realization that he actually missed theball of fur on legs, as he’d put it.
And just like that, his home was peaceful again. And orderly.So bloody orderly. Even though the place was as it had been before Carrie and Belle had walked through its door, the house now seemed like a well-appointed tomb. It was all so very different now. In forty-eight hours, everything had reverted back to normal.
And he bloody well hated it.
At times, moving through the day, and especially at night, he felt as if he were in a fog. But he couldn’t show it. Didn’t dare admit to it. He was only doing what he had to do. Any man with a company to run and responsibilities would do the same. Wouldn’t he?
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen Belle. They’d even had dinner, a rather civilized and proper gathering at the Rogue’s Café with Macie and Finn on the very night he’d planned to ask her to marry him. He’d envisioned his grandmother’s ring on her finger. But this didn’t seem the time. God knew he didn’t want to make the process of leaving to return to her own grandmother any harder than it already was.
Something had shifted between them. A veil of tension had drifted between them.
