Page 103 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
“Your own happiness,” Macie supplied.
He shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”
“So, am I to understand you feel you must make sacrifices for the sake of the company?”
“Of course,” he said. “Goes without saying.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Has it occurred to you that you are making a mistake our father did not?”
“He worked tirelessly to build this company to what it is today.”
“True,” Macie said, her tone a bit hushed now. “But there is one crucial difference. Papa had our mother by his side the entire time. He would not have put anything ahead of her. Not even the all-importantfamily business.”
Jon let out a breath. “Might I point out that our father and mother had wed before he made his first shilling?”
“Quite so,” Macie agreed. “As Mama tells it, he stood tall against any obstacle to their love. Even when Grandfather tried to steer her toward a match he considered more suitable, Papa would not give up. And now, they have forged an unbreakable bond. Do you truly think our father would’ve given up what they have together for anything, much less a blasted contract?”
His sister’s softly spoken words plowed into him. He turned to Finn. Surely his friend and partner would understand the decision he’d had to make.
To the contrary, Finn regarded him with a slow shake of his head. “Tell me this, Jon. Ye faced a man who pointed a gun at ye—at yer heart—and ye did not flinch. Ye did not run. Ye thought only to protect Belle. And yet, now... now ye’re risking the happiness ye’ve found with her. And all for the sake of a negotiation others could pull off.” Finn’s expression spoke louder than his words. “Am I understanding this correctly?”
Jon walked over to the window and stared down at the hustle and bustle of the street below. The bleak skies and drenching rain fit his gray mood.
“Ye say the two of ye have come to an understanding,” Finn went on. “But Belle needs ye now. More than ye might know.”
“She is not one to make a scene,” Macie added. “She knows you’re torn. I do believe Belle intends to wait for you, at least for a time. But she’s hurting. She hasn’t spoken much about it... about what has happened between the two of you. Still, I can see it in her eyes, Jon. She’s trying to put on a brave face, but she is hurting. And she is frightened. Someone she loves quite deeplyis very ill, and she’s worried to tears she won’t make it home in time.”
“The lass needs ye now, Jon. Not in two months. Not even in two bloody days.” Finn was blunt, as usual. “Even if ye do actually make it to speaking yer vows, do you really want her to carry the memory of this—a time when she wanted ye by her side, and ye were not there? And all for the sake of a blasted deal.”
The unvarnished truth of Finn’s words shook him, hard as a bare-knuckled blow to the chin. Good God, Macie was right. He’d mucked it all up, hadn’t he?
Belle wanted him by her side. She needed the simple comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone, that she wouldn’t have to face this difficult time on her own. So why in blazes was he standing here in his office when all he really wanted was to hold her in his arms and reassure her that he would always be there for her, no matter what?
He loved her. And by thunder, he would be there with her.
Chapter Thirty-One
The lass needsye now.
As Jon prepared to walk away from his home—perhaps for quite some time—Finn’s words played in his thoughts. He’d certainly spent many weeks and months away, but this time was different. For once, he was seeking something far more enduring and valuable than any business venture might produce.
This time, he would build a life with the woman he loved.
Bustling about like a mother hen, Mrs. Gilroy dangled his boxing gloves over his traveling case. “Shall I pack these?”
He shook his head. “I cannot imagine I’ll have need for them on the ship.”
No, he had far more pleasant pursuits in mind.
“I’ve packed yer black bowler,” she went on. “And one of yer flat-brimmed caps.”
“Thank you. If I find myself in need of more hats, New York has no shortage of haberdashers.” Touched by how the old woman fussed over him, he smiled to himself. “Oh, and there’s one more thing, Mrs. Gilroy. You can expect Mr. Bennett to pay a call this evening. He will need the folio I’ve left on the desk in my study.”
“I’ll be sure he gets it.”
“Thank you. He will be taking over the negotiation on the contracts.”
“Ye trust him to work out the details in yer stead?”
