Page 108 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
He gave a solemn nod, even as his eyes gleamed with something that looked like hope. “Arabelle Frost, the dolt standing before you has finally come to his senses.”
She met his eyes, seeking the truth. “Jon, I don’t understand.”
“But you will.” The slightest of smiles played on his full mouth as he fumbled about in his sopping wet jacket. When he found what he’d been looking for, he appeared to cup something in the palm of his hand.
“Oh, my. He’s going to do it,” Ellie commented in a breathless whisper. “He is actually going to do it.”
Belle stared at him, a sense of confusion blending with a rekindled ember of joy. “Jon, what is happening?”
“I want to be with you until I take my last breath.” A keen intensity gleamed in his deep brown eyes. “Arabelle Frost, love of my life, will you marry me?”
Joy crashed over her like a rogue wave. Her knees wobbled, and Ellie came to her side, propping her up by the elbow.
“This is so... so very unexpected.” Belle gulped a breath, then another. This was the moment she’d waited for. The moment she’d longed for. But there was a truth they both had to face before she could speak the word perched on the tip of her tongue. “But I cannot stay in London. I must return home.”
“I know.” Jon’s husky rasp seemed a caress. “I don’t give a damn if we are in London or New York or on the blasted moon, for that matter. All I need is you, Belle. By my side. Every day... for the rest of my life.”
“And if I say ‘yes’?” Nearly overcome with emotion, she heard the quaking of her own voice.
“If you do, I will accompany you to Southampton. And then, we will marry in New York.” His eyes gleamed with promise and hope. “If you will have me, that is.” He extended his hand, presenting a ring, perhaps the most beautiful Belle had ever seen. The breathtaking sapphire at the center gleamed with an intense hue, accented by the brilliant diamonds flanking it on both sides.
“Oh, my,” she gasped in a little whisper. Of all the things she’d expected might happen on this day, she could not have anticipated this moment. Her heart raced even as it soared.
“Please say ‘yes,’ Belle, so that I might kiss you.” His low voice was rough with the emotion he made no attempt to hide. So very tempting. So very irresistible.
“Well, when you put it like that,” she said with a little smile. “How could I possibly resist?”
“Say it, my Arabelle.” A muscle in his jaw went taut. “Say you’ll always be mine.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, and yes again. Oh, Jon, I cannot wait for the day when we speak our vows.”
His gaze intent, he slipped the ring onto her finger. And then, he framed her face between his hands. His fingers threaded through her hair as he kissed her, a slow, tender caress that spoke of passion and love and a lifetime of promise.
When he released her, he looked at her as though she were the most precious treasure he’d ever seen. “I had planned a far more romantic proposal than this,” he said, his voice gruff and tender. “I’d selected an elegant venue with musicians and candles and such, rather than standing here, dripping all over the floor of a train station. But I simply could not help myself. I had to tell you the truth.” He caught her in his arms, gazing down at her, not giving a damn about the gawking passengers who looked on eagerly. “I love you, Arabelle. I always have. I’ll love you until I take my last breath, and beyond.”
“Oh, Jon,” she whispered against his lips. “This is a moment I will always remember.”
“I’d wanted to make this a memorable proposal.” He grinned. “I suppose I succeeded.” He glanced around. “For these good folk as well.”
A familiar voice cut through the whispers of the crowd. Finn strode toward them, a satchel in hand. “Looks like ye’llbe needing this,” he said with a broad smile, handing Jon the traveling bag. “By thunder, ye didn’t leave any rain in the clouds, did ye? From the looks of it, it’s all in yer shoes.”
“If I were not in a deliriously happy state of mind, I’d tell you what I think of your observations,” Jon said lightly. “But instead, I would like to introduce you to the future Mrs. Mason.”
“In that case, I’ll wish ye all the good fortune in the world.” Finn gazed down at Belle, a twinkle in his eyes. “He’s a lucky man, lass. The bloke will make ye happy. Of that, ye can rest assured.”
“I am over the moon.” She clasped Jon’s hands in hers. “I cannot wait until I am officially your bride.”
“Safe travels, my friends,” Finn said as he strolled away with jaunty steps. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Macie and I will see ye at the wedding.”
Epilogue
New York, December 1897
New York atChristmastime 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.”
