Page 29 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
She pulled in a low breath, taking him in. The coolness in his voice seemed unfamiliar. Not at all as she remembered.
“My, I don’t recall you sounding... so very formal.”
He studied her for a long moment, as if he didn’t quite know what to say. But then, the words came. Very civilized. And so very cold. “Last night, I gave my word that I would keep you safe. I meant what I said.”
Belle met his dark gaze. How many lonely nights had she lain in her bed, longing to look into those eyes again? Yearned to graze her fingertips along the hard edge of his jaw. To drink in the heat of his body, so close to hers she could feel each beat of his heart. And now she was here with him. Near enough to touch. Near enough to kiss.
But somehow, Jon had changed. This oh-so-proper man who spoke with the same cool lack of emotion as her father’s lawyers was not the one she’d dreamed of all those nights.
“That’s quite noble,” she said. “But I never intended to stay under your roof. Not for more than one night.” She squared her shoulders. “There must be somewhere... somewhere else for me to go.”
“Arabelle, I will not see you in harm’s way.”
Arabelle.Once, she’d loved the way he pronounced her given name, uttering each syllable in a manner that seemed nearly a caress. But now, he clipped the words between his teeth, the sound nothing like the velvety tones he’d used all that time ago, when they were alone beneath the stars in Central Park.
“No.” She gave her head a brisk shake, as if that might clear it, even as the slight ache in the vicinity of her heart told her she was in danger. She had to leave this house. Had to leavehim.Before the bone-deep need flared again. “I simply cannot stay here.” She gulped air. “I will not impose upon your good nature. Not you, of all people.”
“Miss Frost, if I may be so bold...’tis no inconvenience,” Mrs. Gilroy spoke up, even as Jon shot her a speaking glance. “Truth be told, if ye would stay on for a bit, ye might be a greathelp. To me.” Her voice gained strength with each word. “And the wee lass.”
My, the old woman had gumption, didn’t she? Her boldness intrigued Belle. “You’re referring to themadnotion?”
“She is,” Jon said.
“Something else occurs to me,” Mrs. Gilroy went on. “I don’t doubt one of the nosy biddies around here will soon realize there’s a young woman at this residence. I’d imagine Miss Frost will want to go into the garden, if only for some fresh air. Ye’d be amazed at how fast the talk will travel. But if I can explain her presence, if I can say she’s the new governess, no one will puzzle out her identity. Miss Pritchard made a show of leaving. It would make perfect sense to say that Miss Frost is her replacement.”
My, the woman was quick on her feet, wasn’t she? Belle sent her a glance of admiration. “That would quell the gossip, wouldn’t it?” she agreed.
She turned to Jon just as his attention darted to the sight of the dog—now decked out with flowers adorning his silver collar—trotting back into the room with Carrie close behind. “And you will see that I am right. It is, indeed, mad.”
Cutting a direct path to Belle, the girl presented her with a vibrant blossom she’d plucked from the garden. “Heathy wants you to have this,” Carrie said with a wide smile. “He wants you to stay.”
“Carrie, that is simply not possible.” Jon’s voice was gruff yet gentle as he reached for the child.
Even as he spoke, Mrs. Gilroy gestured to the child. “She’s taken to ye, Miss Frost,” she whispered. “Now that isnotmadness. Not in my book.”
“Please, say you’ll be my new nanny,” Carrie said, proudly offering another freshly plucked flower.
Jon lifted the girl up and settled her back onto her cushioned chair. “Miss Frost is a guest in this house. She is most definitelynotyour governess.”
Belle pulled in a breath. Perhaps Jon was right. Perhaps the notion that she might actually watch over this child was indeed ever so slightly mad.
Mrs. Gilroy sent her a look and a nod, an unspoken conversation Belle instinctively understood. The child needed someone to care for her. Jon was obviously quite fond of the little girl, but he was... well, he wasJon.He had his responsibilities. He had his business ventures. In his life, he’d left little room for anything else. In her heart, she knew that truth, far better than most.
Perhaps the idea was not so very mad. Not at all. For a time, at least, she could be there for this bubbly yet sad-eyed little girl.
“Not yet,” Belle said, relishing the look of surprise in his eyes as she countered his words.
One of his dark brows hitched. “It would never work.”
“You’re quite sure of that, aren’t you?” Belle challenged. “To tell the truth, I’d often thought I might enjoy the duties.”
A spark that looked like amusement played on his mouth. “You, my dear Miss Frost, are unlike any nanny I’ve ever known.”
Something in his tone chafed at her. For so very long, men had underestimated her. If she wished to become a governess, she certainly possessed the necessary qualities.
“Iwouldbe unlike any governess you’ve known. That much is certain.” She flashed a smile. “I am equally certain that it would, as you put it,work.I’ll have you know my training in etiquette is top-notch.”
He shrugged. “I don’t doubt that.”
