Page 92 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
Gideon came up behind her. “I’d say this is checkmate.” His hands curved over her shoulders. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Belle gulped against a burning rush of emotion. He was right. She was out of options. Even if she fought back, there was no way she and Mrs. Gilroy could deter three powerful men.
Gideon had left her no choice.
“Let the child go.” Belle forced out the words. “I will go with you.”
“Now see how easy that was,” Gideon said. “So much ado about nothing.”
“Miss Belle, no,” Mrs. Gilroy said, her voice raw as Carrie began to cry. “Ye cannot give the rotters what they want.”
“There’s no choice, is there?” She turned to Gideon. “Tell him to let Carrie go to Mrs. Gilroy.”
“Do what she said,” Gideon coolly ordered the burly driver.
“Whatever ye say,” Roderick said with a nod. Releasing his hold on the child, he nudged her toward the housekeeper. “Go now. She’ll take care of ye.”
With a cry, Carrie ran to Belle. The look in her tear-filled eyes threatened to break Belle’s heart.
“Please,” Carrie murmured between sniffled tears. “Please, I want you to stay.”
“I’m sorry, dear.” Belle choked back tears of her own. “I cannot.”
The girl let out a hushed cry. As Belle felt the pressure of Gideon’s hold tighten, she met Mrs. Gilroy’s anguished eyes.
“Get Carrie,” she managed to utter the words. “Hold her... please, hold her while I go.”
“Ye’re sure about this?” Mrs. Gilroy choked out as she took Carrie’s small hand in hers and wrapped her arms around the child in a reassuring hug.
“He is right,” Belle said as she steeled herself to leave. Summoning her dignity, she hiked her chin in defiance, even as she admitted the truth. “Thisischeckmate.”
A sudden commotion erupted from the vicinity of the kitchen—a sound like a muffled curse, and then, thethudof something heavy landing on the floor.
Gideon threw Roderick a speaking glance. “Take care of that, would you?”
The man responded with a curt nod, but before he made it out of the room, he stopped in his tracks. Belle’s pulse raced as she felt Gideon’s muscles tense with what she suspected was fear.
Her knees felt a bit wobbly at the moment when Jon marched into the room. His hard-edged words allowed no room for discussion.
“Take your bloody hands off her.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As the low-growlof Jon’s command reverberated through the room, Belle went very still. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Dear God, he’d come after her. Had he walked into a brutal trap?
Desperate to see Jon’s face—to look into his dark eyes—she wrenched against the vise-tight clamp of Gideon’s hands. But the strength of his hold only intensified. As the vicious pressure bit into her upper arms, a low sound of pain escaped her.
“Let her go, you son of a bitch.” Jon bit out the words.
Struggling against Gideon’s relentless hold, she angled her body to set her gaze on Jon. Her heart raced. He’d discarded his jacket and waistcoat, the linen of his shirt clinging to his lean, strong upper body, displaying the raw power in his sleekly muscled build. Determination blazed in his eyes. He had promised to protect her. And he’d meant every word.
Her gaze darted to Mrs. Gilroy. Shielding the child with her own body, the old woman held Carrie tight. Roderick stood within an arm’s length, his cold-eyed expression making it clear he would harm them without so much as a qualm of hesitation.
Belle’s pulse hammered in her ears. This seemed her worst fear, come to life.
“Let the woman and child go, you rotter.” The unspoken threat was clear in Jon’s low rasp.
“It’s peculiar, really, how a child provides the ideal leverage,” Gideon observed, his icy tone infused with contempt. “Everyonebecomes so bloody emotional over the mere thought of a sweet little girl suffering an unfortunate accident.”
