Revealing a Rogue

by Rachel Ann Smith

  “Lady Archbroke suspects he’s already decided upon someone.” Her dad’s sigh matched Rutherford’s frustrated tone. “Our Lady Theo promises to alert us as soon as she can.”

  “But we need time to install the right staff to ensure the lady is worthy of holding such a position amongst us, and that is merely the preliminary work to be done.”

  Her stomach clenched. Everyone was expecting Landon to propose to a lady. She didn’t know the first thing about being the wife of a titled gentleman, let alone a PORF.

  “I’m fully aware of what has to be done. There is still time. Lord Hadfield will have to properly court the lady, which will allow us to have everything in place before the wedding.” Her dad’s voice faded and strengthened as he spoke. He must be pacing. He never paced unless he was upset.

  “Bronwyn Cadby!” Her mum’s harsh whisper scared her straight.

  Swiveling to face her mum, Bronwyn murmured, “I was…”

  “I know exactly what ye were doin’. I raised ye to know better.”

  Bronwyn bowed her head and replied, “Yes, Mum.”

  “Harold came and got me. Said ye were behavin’ strange.” Her mum pressed the back of her hand to Bronwyn’s forehead. “Ye’re not sick, are ye?”

  “No, Mum. But I must speak with Dad.” Bronwyn held her breath as she waited.

  Stepping around Bronwyn, her mum rapped on the door.

  “Enter.”

  Following close on her mum’s heels, like she had as a child when summoned by her dad, Bronwyn marched resolutely in her mum’s shadow.

  “Rutherford, please excuse the interruption, but I must speak with my husband.” When Rutherford remained seated, her mum added, “Alone.”

  Rutherford stood and donned his hat and coat. “Think upon it, Cadby. I’ll be eagerly awaiting your call to convene.” He tipped his hat as he passed them to leave.

  As soon as the latch fell into place, her mum tugged Bronwyn to her side. “Well, git on with it. Speak.”

  Her dad turned from the window, and his knowing gaze fell upon her. He couldn’t possibly know what news she bore, yet he always seemed to anticipate what she was about to say. Wringing her hands behind her, Bronwyn said, “Lord Hadfield paid me a visit today.”

  Neither parent responded. Their features completely blank as they waited for her to continue. The speech Bronwyn had prepared deserted her mind. Instead, she blurted, “His lordship has asked me to marry him.” As she expected, her mum gave her a broad smile, and her dad’s features darkened with a fierce scowl.

  Her dad stomped over to his chair behind the desk and sat. “He’s already procured the special license. You will wed as soon as I give him my blessing.” He picked up a news sheet and read.

  She was not the fainting type, but a lack of air and the twinkling stars before her eyes had Bronwyn clutching the edge of the desk and inhaling deeply. She’d predicted her dad wouldn’t deny a request by a PORF, but she hadn’t even managed to share her plan, and her dad was already done with the topic.

  Her mum rubbed soothing circles upon her back. “All will be well. No time to dawdle; we must get you ready.”

  No. Landon was to marry a lady, not her. Of all people, her parents should know this. Taking in a deep breath, Bronwyn straightened and faced her mum. “Lord Hadfield is making a mistake by offering for me. It is a tradition that a PORF marry one of their own.”

  The snap of the paper being straightened brought her focus back to her dad. “He is risking too much! He’ll expose the Network if he marries me. Marrying a commoner will raise suspicions. Consider the possibility of all our secrets being exposed if someone takes an interest and digs into my background. It’s not how things work. He’ll disrupt the balance.”

  She heaved in another breath, but before Bronwyn could continue, her dad said, “I’ll not hear another word. You will marry Lord Hadfield.”

  Fustian!

  If her dad would not hear her pleas, she’d wait until she had her mum alone. She let her mum guide her from her dad’s office. As soon as they’d walked down the hall to the connecting door that led to the family’s living quarters, Bronwyn placed a hand on her mum’s arm. “You have to make Dad understand.”

  Her mum led her into the kitchen and placed a kettle in the fire.

  Bronwyn needed her mum to comprehend her plight. Her mum was her last hope, the only person capable of convincing her dad to put a stop to this madness. “I’m not the right woman for Lord Hadfield. I’ll bring shame upon him. I’ve no idea how to behave like a lady. He needs someone who can host balls and house parties, run multiple households, and forge alliances amongst the ladies of the ton.” Bronwyn paused and went to the cabinet to get the teacups. “I know naught of those things, and I’ve nothing in common with the duchesses, marchionesses, and countesses his wife would need to befriend in order to assist with PORF affairs.” She plopped down on the bench as her mum calmly reached for a cloth, and then the boiling kettle.

  Pouring steaming water into the well worn tea pot, her mum said, “Lord Hadfield has had the special license in his possession for over a month now. As head PORF, his actions and directives have been rather…deliberate. I’m sure he gave the decision to marry and to whom much thought.” She set the kettle down. Placing her warm hand beneath Bronwyn’s chin, her mum tilted Bronwyn’s head up and met her eyes. “He was wise to choose you.”

  Bronwyn poured the barely steeped tea into their cups. Her mum sipped tea, eyeing her with one eyebrow cocked. It was as if her mum was challenging her to find a counter-argument. But her mind had wandered after the revelation that Landon had held on to the special license for a month.

  Bronwyn tapped her finger against her teacup as she contemplated a plan that would allow them both time to be sure marriage was the best solution.

  Her mum stood up, winked, and took Bronwyn’s cup from her hands. “Child, you are smart and brave. I’m extremely proud of you, and I know you will not shame our family.”

  Whatever plan she devised, she’d ensure it would not end in disgrace.

  Chapter Four

  Twisted between his bed linens, Landon groaned as the image of the three piles of casework sitting atop Bronwyn’s desk reappeared—haunting him as he attempted to sleep. Rolling out of bed, Landon hastily donned his shirt and breeches without the assistance of a valet, as he had done many a time before he inherited the earldom.

  Landon grinned as he tiptoed through the hall and down the stairs of his townhouse. It was like he was twenty-two again, leaving his bachelor lodgings in the middle of the night to get a head start on the day’s work to prove to his papa that he would be capable of running the firm one day. A surge of excitement at the prospect of utilizing his legal training had his feet pounding against the pavement.

  Out of breath, Landon stood frozen at the front door of the Neale & Sons offices. He stared down at his shadow and asked, “What are you afraid of?” The answer was complicated and not completely formulated in his mind. Landon shook his head and entered the quiet building.

  In the peaceful dark, Landon sat at his old desk, a stalwart reminder of his previous path in his papa’s footsteps. But would he face the same untimely demise as his papa, due to their shared lung condition? Landon might not be on this earth much longer. Christopher would be miserable as earl, and that was but a portion of the responsibilities he’d leave to his unsuspecting brother. His little brother would also inherit the rondure, which brought about danger and a slew of obligations that Landon himself was trying to unravel. He needed an heir and a wife who was intelligent and courageous enough to guide his son should he die early. He needed Bronwyn. With a frown, he pulled the first pile of files in front of him. Deal with one matter at a time.

  Sunlight fell upon the desk. Quill poised midair, Landon reviewed the summary before him. A swell of pride gained momentum and eased the tension in his chest. Breathing easier than he had in months, Landon grinned at the tall stack of files at the corner of Bronwyn’s desk
.

  His brother’s voice wafted through the office. Landon pulled out his pocket watch; it was later in the morning than he had realized. He chuckled as Christopher’s cheery greetings to the staff became louder and louder. He missed working alongside his brother every day.

  The door swung open, and Christopher popped his head in. “What the devil are you doing here?” Christopher sauntered into Bronwyn’s office and slid into the client chair across the desk.

  Landon ran a hand over his jaw covered in stubble. “I merely sought to help prepare a few summaries.”

  “Don’t you have more pressing issues to deal with?”

  “Not at this time.” He rolled his head from side to side. His neck and shoulder muscles were no longer accustomed to being strained for extended periods. In recent months, the only burden Landon had carried was the pressure of selecting a wife. Bronwyn’s sweet features flashed before his mind’s eye.

  “Really?” Christopher sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Have you practiced your closing arguments?”

  Whether it was from a lack of sleep or his distracted thoughts, Landon stumbled over his brother’s logic. “Beg pardon?”

  “Perhaps you should run them by me before she arrives.”

  She? Christopher gave him a wide grin. His brother must have heard of his failed proposal. Likely he’d overheard the staff at the townhouse discussing it this morning. Landon had made the mistake of visiting Theo after his meeting with Bronwyn. The walls of her townhouse were paper thin. Theo was the only woman whose discretion and judgment he trusted. He desperately needed her insight into why Bronwyn had not immediately accepted his offer of marriage, and he sought her advice on to how to rectify the situation. Instead of providing the guidance he wished for, Theo had simply told him not to act like an ignoramus and then applauded his choice of wife. Landon realized the error of his visit as he walked through the foyer to leave and received full, approving smiles from the household staff. The Network was abuzz with his decision to wed.

  Landon steepled his fingers. “Very well. Let’s practice. I thought to start with: ‘I apologize for not having adequately addressed your concerns...’” He paused at the thump of Christopher’s hand landed on the desk.

  “By Jove, no wonder Bronwyn requested a reprieve. You have absolutely no…”

  Landon abruptly stood. “Since when did the two of you drop all pretense of formality?” Christopher’s casual use of Bronwyn’s Christian name inflamed Landon’s guilt at his prolonged absence and neglect of Bronwyn and the firm.

  Christopher rose to his full height, a mere inch shorter than Landon. “Are you daft? How else do you expect me to refer to my sister-to-be?”

  “How presumptuous of you, since she has yet to agree to marry me.”

  His brother mumbled, “And they say he’s the smart one.” Christopher’s smile faded. “Bronwyn has been infatuated with you from her very first day here at the office. I’ve wondered how long it would take you to come to your senses and make her an offer.”

  “Since day one?” Landon glared at his brother. “The woman has never batted her eyes at me, nor has she ever giggled at one of my jests.”

  Christopher rolled his eyes.

  Landon wanted to slap himself on the head. He was a buffoon. “Do you think I’ve made a huge error?”

  “In delaying your decision to wed? No. You inherited a mountain of debt and responsibilities along with a title that most would have turned and run from.” Christopher tapped the desk. “Your biggest blunder yesterday was failing to express your true feelings for her. I suggest you rectify the situation today.”

  “That is my intention. If I succeed, I anticipate I’ll be out of town for a spell. In my absence, you will have to escort Mama to balls, soirees, and such.”

  Christopher’s shoulders sagged. “You know how much I detest being thrust amongst the ton.”

  “Our mother gains a wealth of information from these gatherings.” Landon softened at his younger brother’s obvious discomfort. “Name your price.”

  “What did Mama extract from you?”

  “A promise to wed and beget an heir as soon as possible.”

  Laughter lit up Christopher’s eyes. “A crate of brandy will be sufficient for me.”

  With a chuckle, Landon nodded, but his focus was on the door, which had swung open.

  Bronwyn stepped into the office and paused at the sight of the two strikingly handsome brothers smiling at each other. Her attention, as always, was inexplicably drawn to the taller, older brother. Out of practice at masking her reactions to Landon, the tips of her ears and cheeks burned, and her pulse raced at the sight of his devilish dimple.

  She swallowed and found her voice. “Gentlemen, am I interrupting?”

  Christopher was the first to react. “No, I was on my way out.” He moved to stand before her, then leaned in to whisper, “Take it easy on him. I’ve always wished for a sister like you.”

  Her cheeks were aflame. She bowed her head and said, “Didn’t your mama tell you to be careful about what you wish for?”

  With a chuckle, Christopher left the room, leaving her all alone with the man her entire family had sworn to obey and protect. Lifting her chin, she walked toward her desk, but Lord Hadfield stood in front of her chair. This was her office, no longer his. He should make way for her, but the man showed no inclination to make the gentlemanly gesture. Eyebrows angled down into a frown, she walked right up to Landon. “Excuse me.”

  She was mere inches away before he relented, bowing, and pulled the chair out further for her. Keeping her back to him, Bronwyn slipped into the chair and scooted it forward. She reached for one of the three pencils neatly arranged on the desktop. His warm breath grazed her neck as she swept up the loose tendrils of hair that had escaped her haphazard bun and stuck the pencil through her locks to hold them in place.

  “I took the liberty of preparing the summaries for you.”

  She grabbed the folder from the top of the pile and opened it. “My thanks, but unnecessary.”

  Landon leaned in, looking over his work. “I hope they meet your expectations.”

  Ha! It was he who taught her how to examine the details and sift the minutiae from the facts. Her eyes fluttered closed, mimicking the sensations in her stomach. He was too close. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate when her body screamed at her to lean into his. She snapped the file shut. “Everything appears to be in order. Mr. Neale will be pleased.”

  “Are you pleased?”

  “Lord Hadfield…”

  “I’d be honored if you would address me by my given name.”

  “Only in the event I agree to your proposal.”

  “What is preventing you from saying yes?”

  Bronwyn reached into her hidden dress pocket and retrieved a carefully crafted list of queries. His answers wouldn’t sway her response, but Landon’s reactions would provide her with some insight into what the future might hold.

  She held out the parchment for Landon.

  His gaze shifted between the note and her eyes. “A list of demands?”

  She withdrew the list and clutched it to her chest. “No, not demands. How mercenary.”

  Landon’s dimple appeared. “A list of inquires then?” He tilted his head and placed his palm out.

  “Yes.” Instead of giving him the parchment, she replaced it in her pocket. “Three simple questions.”

  Landon straightened, and instead of taking the seat opposite her, he perched on the edge of the desk and placed one booted foot behind his calf. “Very well, let’s begin.”

  “What has prompted your decision to wed?”

  “My papa left this earth an early age from a lung condition that I too suffer from. It is imperative I sire an heir before I depart this world.” His hazel eyes lacked their usual intensity. “The London air has progressively worsened over recent years, and the poor air quality has accelerated my condition.”

  In her skirt pocket, her hand ba
lled into a fist as an ache settled in the center of her chest. The pain wasn’t from the lack of romanticism; she hadn’t expected Landon to profess undying love for her, but she was unprepared for the rawness of his voice as he shared his fears. “Why not remain in the country?”

  He dipped his chin to his chest and tilted his head toward her. “You know that is not possible.”

  Yes, as earl he’d be expected at the House of Lords, and his dealings as Head PORF would need to be coordinated from London. With the right woman as a wife, he’d have another to share those burdens. Emma and her mum both assured her she possessed the skills Landon required of his countess. Bronwyn had never shunned a responsibility in her life, but the magnitude of having other people’s lives in her hands weighed heavily on her heart and mind.

  She squared her shoulders with false bravado. “Second question: How can you be certain we are suitably matched?”

  “To clarify, that’s your third inquiry. And the answer is—I can’t be sure. You were right yesterday in pointing out that we are not well-acquainted despite having worked together for six years. However, I am acutely aware that I missed you these past two years.” Landon leaned closer, resting his forearm over his thigh. “I apologize for being slow and not seeking you out sooner.”

  Bronwyn’s heart stilled at the intensity in Landon’s voice. His sincere apology left her short of breath. He hadn’t been slow. Christopher had the right of it yesterday. Landon never made decisions in haste. Yet, Bronwyn couldn’t fathom why he wanted her to be his wife. “I still have one last item to ask you. Do you know who my dad is?”

  Landon chuckled. “I do indeed. Theo aided my memory and informed me he is the miserable old man who saw to it that I received the mark.”

  Bronwyn giggled. Her dad was a bit of a geezer. “Yes, for generations, it has been our family’s honor to bestow the mark upon PORFs. Then you understand that I’ve sworn an oath and it’s impossible for me to say no.”

  He brushed a finger along the side of her face, and as his finger came to rest under her chin, he tilted her face up. Gazes locked. Landon said, “We will not wed unless it is what you desire.”