Page 44 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
Heathy’s bell jangled as he took off after Carrie. At the sound, Carrie tugged on Mrs. Gilroy’s sleeve, and the old woman turned just as Belle caught up to her.
“Mrs. Gilroy, I think you dropped this.”
“I’m thankful ye spotted it,” she said, tucking the key into her apron pocket. “I would’ve been in a dither searching the house for it.”
“Heathy would’ve brought it to you,” Carrie said cheerfully.
“I would not be so certain of that, child.” Mrs. Gilroy took her hand. “Come along. Let’s put yer doll in a safe place.”
“Come, Heathy,” Belle called the dog. She certainly didn’t want Mrs. Gilroy to have to navigate her unsteady steps around the pup. Wagging his tail energetically, Heathy followed her down the hallway back to the bedchamber. After she settled comfortably on an upholstered bench, he plopped down contentedly at her feet.
Ellie leaned back in the wingchair. Holding the portrait of Jon and Macie in their youth, she appeared deep in thought as she studied the images. She drew a fingertip along the edge of the scrolled frame. When she glanced up, a look of nostalgia filled her eyes.
“This was taken at their country home,” she said. “I have a portrait at home of Macie and me that was made when the photographer was visiting that spring. My, we were so very young.”
“I can see the spark in her eyes.”
“She’s always had such a zest for life. I’ve never seen it dim.” She pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Perhaps only once... when it looked as if she and Finn would part company. But asyou already know, they figured it out. Happily ever after, as they say.”
“I do so love the thought of a happy ending,” Belle said. “It often seems the stuff of fairy tales.”
“I’m not all that fond of those flowery tales. The notion of sitting around waiting to be rescued by a prince—charming or not—doesn’t quite appeal to me.”
“I, for one, donothave the patience,” Belle said. “That is not to say I would object to a handsome knight charging to the rescue, but I doubt I could sit idly by and wait for him to ride up on his steed.”
“I’d be content with the rescue. And perhaps a kiss—or two—to thank him for his courage.”
Belle offered a nod of agreement. “Come to think of it, there’s never any indication that the prince or knight or whatever has a brain in his skull. Why, the man could be a muscle-bound dolt, now couldn’t he?”
“Not that a muscle-bound dolt might not have his, shall we say, purpose.” Ellie’s eyes flashed with mischief. “Fighting off a dragon or two would warrant sweet kisses. Perhaps, if he was particularly brave, I might even consider a scandalous touch. Or two.” Her mouth curved into a sly smile. “But a lifelong commitment to a man I don’t truly even know? I think not.”
“Indeed,” Belle concurred. “I much prefer Miss Austen’s heroes, don’t you?”
“Ah, Mr. Darcy,” Ellie said. “Ever so much more appealing than a knight with all muscles and nothing between his ears.”
“And no clunky armor to clutter up the house,” Belle said with a soft chuckle. “I shudder to think about polishing all that tin.”
Ellie laughed out loud. “I must admit, Belle—you are not at all what I expected.”
“In what way, might I ask?”
“Oh, where to begin?” Seeming to stall, Ellie rose and placed the photograph she’d been holding back in its proper place. “I suppose I’d expected theFrost Princessto be a bit, for lack of a better word,frostier.”
“Oh, Icanbe cool to those who don’t deserve better. Since my debutante ball, I’ve stood my ground with people who mistook a kind heart for weakness. Some have portrayed my backbone as proof of a cold nature. That is their choice.” A touch of pride rippled through her at her resolve. “I suppose I should detest that rather horrid name. Really, I should. But I don’t.” Belle smiled. A faint smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I actually rather like it.”
“Really?” Ellie’s eyes widened, if only a bit.
“I believe it all started in Manhattan. I’d heard one of the dowry-seeking snobs I’d shown the door—I’m not entirely sure which one, as there weresomany—was in his cups at some high-brow tavern. While the oaf loudly bemoaned my supposedly frigid nature, a reporter at a gossip rag overheard what he’d said. The hack had a fine time making a play on my name. Truly, I find it rather silly. But the nickname captured interest, and the papers ran with it. Over time, it has proven to be rather useful.”
Ellie rested her chin on her hand. “Do tell.”
“Since the press spread the word that I am unapproachable, I’ve taken advantage of their warning. It has worked wonders with the men my mother and I callMerger Hunters,” Belle explained. “For a time, you see, I was viewed as goodwife materialby more than one scion of powerful families.”
“Wife material?” Ellie sighed. “How very tiresome.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Belle said. “I once entertained a courtship with a rather handsome man whose family controlled a lumber empire. He actually used those very words when he proposed that we unite our families.”
“A true romantic,” Ellie commented in a wry tone.
