Page 41 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
“Will she be returning shortly?”
“She’s expected back by the end of the month.”
“How disappointing,” Belle said. “By then, I will likely be on my way back to New York. I would truly enjoy making her acquaintance. And I cannot wait to meet Macie. I’ve heard so much about her.”
“She is a true original,” Ellie said. “I believe she may be home within a fortnight.”
“I do hope so,” Belle said. “I look forward to getting to know her.”
“Jon claims his sister is the cause of each and every gray hair on his head. Not that he hasthatmany. They make him look rather distinguished. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I suppose they do.” Belle fought a smile as her imagination flashed back to her dark-haired, silver-templed pirate.
Ellie placed Heathy on the floor and sorted through the trunk again, bringing out an ivory linen blouse with long puffed sleeves. “What do you think? It complements the suit.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
The minutes passed pleasantly as Ellie continued to pass her garments for her approval—dresses and nightdresses and undergarments and shoes. Donning a tweed skirt and jacket with a white pristine linen blouse, Belle studied her reflection in the mirror. The events of the past days had not changed her. Not on the surface, at least. But a sudden realization stilled her.
My goodness, she’d been born into such good fortune, and she’d taken it for granted, hadn’t she? Now, that had changed. And she doubted she could ever go back to the blithe innocence she’d felt never having to worry overthings.Never having to worry about a good, solid roof over her head, surrounded by people who loved her. Never having to feel the slightest pangs of hunger and to fear that she’d have nowhere to go. And now, it was as if that naivete had been shattered.
After she’d made her mad dash away from Gideon’s grasp, she’d had a small taste of what it felt like to be without resources. She’d been tired and hungry and without a penny on her person. She had never felt so very alone in her life. If she hadn’t rushed through the door of the tavern and straight into Jon, what might have come next? Would she have been forced to take refuge in some dank alley? Might she have encountered another man that night, one without Jon’s innate sense of honor? The mere thought of it brought a chill creeping over her nape.
Since girlhood, she had never wanted for anything. Anything material, that was. She’d always possessed beautiful things. And in such abundance. Her mahogany armoire at home was nearly popping at the hinges with gowns and dresses and skirts and blouses, garments for every occasion one might imagine. And of course, she owned shoes and custom-made hats and beadedreticules to complement each ensemble. For so long, she’d felt appreciation for the lovely wardrobe her father’s wealth had afforded her. In a sense, it seemed an utterly natural aspect of life as her father’s daughter.
But she’d never had to face the feeling of needing and not having.
Oh, she’d certainly felt compassion for those in need. She was known for her good deeds, wasn’t she? The charity galas she’d sponsored—lavish events at magnificent ballrooms where society types showed off their elegant gowns and finest jewels—had raised generous donations for orphans and widows and those who needed a helping hand. But she’d never tried to see things through their eyes. Not truly. Only now had she’d gotten a tiny, fleeting glimpse of what it felt like to rely on the kindness of others.
“What do you think of the tweed?” Ellie’s question pulled Belle from her thoughts. “I think the pattern is subtle.”
“I agree.” Belle smoothed out a wrinkle in the snowy white linen blouse. “It’s quite appealing.”
Ellie looked rather pleased with herself. “It would appear we possess a similar fashion sense.”
“I do agree. Every garment you’ve selected is lovely.”
“I must confess I was a bit nervous when Jon reached out to me for assistance. I’d never selected clothing for anyone but myself. The message his assistant brought made it seem rather like a covert mission. But that would be Jon. Even as a lad, he had a plan for everything.”
“So I’ve seen.” Belle could not help but offer a knowing smile.
“You can imagine my excitement to be givencarte blancheto select whatever I thought would suit you, and on his personal account, no less. The shop assistant at his store was ever so helpful, but the woman’s eyes were wide as saucers when I requested a large trunk for my purchases.”
“Itisrather hefty.”
“Jon tasked one of his employees with transporting it here.” Ellie tapped her fingers against the elegant domed steamer trunk. “Thankfully, the driver was a strapping man, all brawn and muscles. Pity you didn’t have the opportunity to observe him lifting it in and out of the coach. I must say, he accomplished the task with the utmost efficiency.”
“Brawn and muscles . . . he sounds quite capable.”
“Exceedinglycapable, I’d say.” The look in Ellie’s eyes hinted at an unspoken meaning. “I do wonder if the shop assistants really believed the items in that trunk were selected on Macie’s behalf, or if they’d formed a far different notion. One of the women was ever so pleasant, but she was something of a busybody, crinkling her nose a bit skeptically at times. I wouldn’t doubt she suspected Jon was purchasing the items for me. Nowthatmight be true fuel for the gossips.”
Belle studied her for a moment. Could it be that Ellie was actually pleased at the thought?
“I do hope you’re not drawn into the rumor mill.”
“To the contrary, a little scandal would be just the thing. For me, at least.” Ellie retrieved a pair of high-top black shoes from the trunk and presented them to Macie. “In my experience, few things better enhance a woman’s appeal to the male of the species than the notion of a desirable rogue having eyes for her.”
“I take it there is a certainmale of the speciesyou have in mind?”
