Page 61 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
As the newcomer glanced about the room, her assessing brown eyes appeared to take in the uncluttered, masculine aesthetics of Jon’s townhouse. “I must admit, this is precisely as I’d expected,” she commented to Ellie, who nodded in agreement.
“The dark woods suit him, I’d say.”
As Mrs. Gilroy closed and bolted the door behind them, Ellie introduced Belle to the elegantly attired woman. An old, trusted friend of the family, Mrs. Johnstone greeted Belle warmly in a charming Scottish accent.
“’Tis my pleasure to make yer acquaintance,” she said. “Ellie has spoken highly of ye.”
“And with good reason,” Mrs. Gilroy said, much to Belle’s surprise.
“Indeed,” Mrs. Johnstone said, even as her keen gaze settled on a spot near the length of carpet that ran the length of the entry hall. Her pert nose wrinkled. “Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that... a pawprint?”
Ellie followed the path of her gaze. She leaned closer. “I do believe it is. And it is precisely Heathy’s size.”
Belle and Mrs. Gilroy both saw it then, at precisely the same moment—the bits of flour they’d missed while cleaning up after Carrie’s attempt at making arealpie. How in the dickens had the pup managed to drag the stuff all the way out here?
Mrs. Johnstone peered more closely. “That is flour, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Belle said. “There is an amusing story—”
“We had a bit of fun yesterday teaching the wee lass to make pretty baubles she might hang on the wall,” Mrs. Gilroy spoke up.
Mrs. Johnstone’s forehead creased. “It would appear the dog joined in as well.”
“He is a playful little beast,” Mrs. Gilroy went on, sounding unusually positive about the dog.
“As I recall, he can be a bit willful,” Mrs. Johnstone replied as the dog trotted toward them, as if he knew he’d been the topic of discussion. Tail wagging, he cut a direct path to the woman who reached down to pet him with an easy familiarity. “He is a fiercely loyal little pup.”
“One of his better qualities,” Mrs. Gilroy said with a wan smile. “Might I bring ye all some tea in the parlor?”
“That would be lovely,” Belle replied, thankful the housekeeper had changed the subject. “I’ll come to help you with the tray.”
“No need, lass,” she replied. “I’ll roll in the cart. I think it will be beneficial to exercise my leg a bit.”
As Mrs. Gilroy took her leave, Belle led the women into the parlor. The dog followed along, plastered to Mrs. Johnstone’s side. How had she developed a rapport with the pup?
The women began a conversation that remained lighthearted until Mrs. Johnstone’s cheerful tone took a turn.
“Ye might be wondering why I’ve come today,” she said, her expression growing more somber. “Jon feels I may be of help to ye.”
Belle pulled in a breath as she folded her hands in her lap. “Thank you, but if you’re here to assist me in watching over the child, there is no need.” She made an effort to sound cordial even as she dismissed the woman’s offer of assistance. “I have matters well in hand.”
Mrs. Johnstone flickered a glance toward a few more bits of flour shaped like a paw, albeit smaller than Heathy’s print. One brow hiked up in a speaking glance.
Drat.Belle resisted the urge to frown. Evidently, the cat had tracked the grain into this room as well.
The woman slowly shook her head. “Miss Frost, that is not why I’m here.”
“It’s quite exciting, really.” Ellie’s eyes lit with enthusiasm. “She is a woman of, shall we say, unique skills.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Johnstone’s manner was pleasant. Yet reserved. “You’ve much to learn.”
Belle turned to her. “I am afraid I don’t follow.”
Before she could respond, Mrs. Gilroy ambled in with the tea service on a cart. Carrie assisted her in pushing the wheeled wooden tray. “Thank ye, child,” Mrs. Gilroy said, and Carrie hurried to Belle’s side.
Fresh from her afternoon nap, the girl fairly bounced with enthusiasm. She greeted Ellie and Mrs. Johnstone with a cheerful smile.
The women engaged the child in a light discussion of topics ranging from Carrie’s preference for yellow and green dresses, the child’s fondness for Mrs. Gilroy’s fig jam, and a brief debate as to whether Heathy would look more handsome wearing a blue or violet bow on his collar. After a few pleasant minutes had passed, Ellie sent Mrs. Johnstone a speaking glance.
