Page 176 of Harpy of the Ton
“Aye, my Bella,” he said. “You’re the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins, and the light in my soul. Without you I am nothing.”
A flicker of hope flared in her eyes, and she reached out and took his hand, sliding her fingers between his.
“I can never atone for deceiving you,” he said, “though I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, if you’d permit me. But that deception brought you into my life. My beautiful, kind, cleverBella. You may not be my wife in name, but you are my equal—more than my equal. You are my heart, and my home, and I am incomplete without you. Weallare.
“All?”
Lawrence turned toward Whitcombe’s carriage, where the children, bristling with need for their beloved mama, but tempered by Whitcombe’s orders to remain in the carriage, were watching the exchange.
“The children…”
Hope swelled in Bella’s eyes, and his heart ached at the love there.
“Spare me this nonsense!” Dunton said. He stumbled forward, reaching for Bella.
“Charge!” a high-pitched voice cried, and the children tumbled out of the carriage, brandishing sticks, then raced toward Dunton.
“Don’t touch my mama!” Roberta said.
William raised his stick. “Begone, foul Napoleon!”
Dunton whimpered and raised his arms, and Lawrence’s heart soared as Bella let out a giggle.
“Mama—we’re here to rescue you from enemy hands,” Jonathan said.
Bella reached for the little boy and drew him into her arms. “I thank you, kind sir,” she said. “My, how you’ve grown during my incarceration!”
“Foolish brat!” Dunton said. He raised his hand, but before he could strike, Whitcombe caught his wrist.
“I’d advise you to think carefully, lest you wish to add the assault of a child to your list of crimes.”
“Crimes?”
“The attempted murder of Lady Arabella Ponsford…”
“Don’t be a fool!” Dunton replied.
“How else did she end up almost drowned in the river?” Whitcombe said. “Not to mention your abandonment of her.”
“Abandonment?”
“You were seen at Drovers Heath, claiming not to know the woman who was your fiancée. Trelawney and I obtained written testimony from Dr. Carter.”
“Preposterous,” Dunton said, though his voice wavered.
“Not to mention your attempts to defraud Lady Arabella out of her fortune. A certain Mr. Crawford has been overly willing to talk while residing in Newgate.”
Dunton narrowed his eyes, the glare of arrogance fading as he glanced toward Lawrence then back at Whitcombe. “You can’t prove anything.”
“There’s enough doubt over your innocence to destroy your reputation,” Whitcombe said. “And, with enough debt to land you in Newgate as Mr. Crawford’s cellmate, your reputation is all that you have. Unless you agree to my demands.”
“What demands?”
Whitcombe made a dismissive gesture. “We can discuss that later. But now, I’m sure these good people are anxious to enjoy their reunion. Is that not so, Baxter? I know Trelawney—and Mrs. Trelawney—is anxious to know that your wife is unharmed.”
Bella’s smile disappeared. “I’m not his—”
“Hush,” Lawrence whispered, holding a finger to her lips. “Let me remedy that.”
