The way the word desire rolled off his tongue sent sparks up her spine. He leaned back, resting his hand upon his knee. Keenly aware he was giving her space to decide, Bronwyn rubbed the back of her neck where the sparks ended.
Breathless, she concentrated on the point she was attempting to convey. “It matters not what my wishes are. I’ll not dishonor my family by denying you.”
“Your wishes matter to me.” He grinned, displaying his heart-melting dimple. “But before you give me your final answer, I too have a series of queries for you. First, do you find me unattractive?”
Landon was far from ugly. Like Emma, Bronwyn’s insides fluttered at the sight of his dimple, and while she might hate to admit it, she did appreciate his fine looks. “Not in the least.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely.” Bronwyn shared her dad’s philosophy that trust must be earned, and Landon had long ago won her trust.
He focused on her lips. “I want to kiss you. Would you like that?”
She stared into his eyes. The sudden glimmer of mischief made her uneasy. It was almost as if he was teasing her. Bronwyn stood, the back of her knees pushing her chair back. With him perched on the desk, she didn’t have to roll onto her tiptoes to place her hands upon his chest. Eyes closed, she lifted her chin, ready for him to kiss her.
Instead of his lips pressing against hers, warm fingers brushed against the side of Bronwyn’s neck. Landon’s palm cradled her jaw as the pad of his thumb ran along her bottom lip. Bronwyn’s breath caught in her throat.
“Tell me you want to marry me first before I kiss you.” His thumb glided over her lip a second time.
Blinking her eyes open, she swallowed. “Yes.”
Leaning closer, Landon whispered in her ear, “I want to hear you say it.”
“I’ll marry you.”
His lips swept along her exposed neck down to her shoulder. Seeking to stabilize herself, she curled her hands, bunching the material of his waistcoat. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to pull him closer or push him away. That dilemma fled her mind as his tongue followed the ridge of her collar bone. Landon peppered light kisses upon the swell of her bosom, causing her breathing to hasten.
Landon was renowned for his self-control and restraint. His leisurely exploration was either a testament to his willpower or his roguish nature attempting to torture her.
No longer willing to wait, Bronwyn cupped Landon’s face and brought his mouth to meet her own. Soft but firm lips molded to hers. An urge to taste him had Bronwyn parting her lips, allowing his tongue to seek out hers. A burst of exhilaration roared through her veins. She wanted more. Wrapping her arms about his neck, she threaded her hand through his hair and pressed him closer. Boys had tried to kiss her before, cornering her and crushing their mouths in brutal, crude attacks. This was nothing of the kind. Landon was no boy, and she was apparently skilled in the art of kissing.
Landon pulled back. For a moment, she didn’t want the spell to end. Soft kisses upon her eyelids prompted her to open her eyes. His dimple greeted her. She had agreed to marry Landon.
When her pulse returned to normal, she reached into her skirt pocket on the left that held another list.
“What is that?”
“My demands.”
Landon laughed. “I knew you’d have a list of demands. Pray tell. What’s on it?”
“First, I’ll not wed in front of the ton at St. Georges. Second, Emma needs another day to have everything readied before we leave for Scotland. Third, you have to speak to my dad tonight.”
“Let me make sure I understand. You don’t want to wait the three weeks for the banns to be read, and you want to hie off to Gretna Green and be married over an anvil.”
“I know you already procured a special license, so a delay of three weeks was never an option.”
“Have you shared your demands with anyone? Has the Network already begun preparations?”
“Of course I’ve not shared my list with another. No one would think me daft enough to actually make requests of the head PORF.”
“Grand. Then there is room for negotiation?”
“Absolutely not.”
Landon gathered her up in his arms and whispered, “And that is exactly why you are the one for me.”
Bronwyn smiled, but she still believed it implausible that she was really perfect for him.
Chapter Five
The bell over Rutherford’s door tinkled as Landon entered. He smiled, glad that Cadby had agreed to meet at Rutherford’s jewelry store rather than at his tobacco shop. A shiver ran down Landon’s spine at the memory of entering Cadby’s store. It had taken Landon weeks to recover from his visit. Apart from the fact his skin needed to heal after Cadby had taken his leisure in tattooing the mark upon his hip, his lungs had ached after inhaling the tobacco fumes for hours.
Rutherford’s gray head appeared. “Lord Hadfield, I wasn’t expecting you for another thirty minutes.” The old man rushed to the door and flipped the sign to indicate he was no longer open for business.
“I thought I might browse your selection of rings before we begin the evening’s proceedings.” Landon perused the glass cabinets. Bronwyn was exceedingly practical—what type of jewel would suit her best?
Rather than offering suggestions, Rutherford disappeared into the back.
Bronwyn was born in October. Running his finger along the edge of the counter, he tried to recall which stone represented her birth month.
“Might I suggest you select a ring from this collection?” The jeweler pushed forward a tray with three exquisite rings atop dark blue velvet.
Landon picked up the center ring, drawn to its unique design. “What is this stone called?” The pink jewels that surrounded the center stone reminded him of Bronwyn’s lips and their kiss.
“It’s an opal, my lord, surrounded by pink tourmaline. They are Miss Cadby’s birthstones.”
How fitting. Landon raised the ring to the dwindling rays of sunlight. “I’ll take this one.”
Rutherford held out his palm. “Very well, I shall make certain it is cleaned and polished and delivered to you in the morn.”
“I’d prefer to take it with me when I leave after our meeting.”
The man’s white brows angled down. “Certainly.” Rutherford snatched the ring from Landon's hand and walked toward the back again, mumbling. “And to think, we’re about to lose Bronwyn to the likes of him. Tsk. Tsk.”
Landon grinned at Rutherford’s comment. It was fortunate he had fallen for a woman the Network held in such high regard. Wandering about the store, Landon examined the exquisite pieces of jewelry in the cabinets. A ruby and diamond choker caught his interest. Fantasizing the piece around Bronwyn’s delicate throat, he jumped when a meaty hand landed on his shoulder.
Landon spun around to find his friend Gilbert Talbot, Earl of Waterford, standing next to him. Waterford’s features were grim. “Cadby is not pleased. Why did you not seek him out prior to approaching his daughter?”
Crossing his arms across his chest, Landon replied, “If I’d known her surname prior to my proposal, I would have.”
Waterford chuckled. “Apparently, some secrets are safe within the Network.”
“What are you doing here?”
His friend’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows slanted inward. One was arched higher than the other. Landon hadn’t asked with the intention of provoking either reaction, but he had expected only the elders to be in attendance.
“I’m one of the six council members.”
“You are one of the elders?”
“Don’t look so surprised. The council is comprised of the eldest living member of the original six families that founded the Network. I’m the eldest of my line. Come. I’ll introduce you to the remaining five members.”
Curse Archbroke and his cursory review of the Network and its workings. Landon suspected it was due to Archbroke’s own limited knowledge, not that the man intentionally withheld infor
mation. “Who of the PORFs are aware of which families make up this illustrious council?”
The crease between Waterford’s brows deepened. “You will be the only PORF to know. While Network members vow to protect and assist PORFs, the PORFs do not govern our organization. The elders’ council is our ruling body.”
“Thank you for clarifying. I still have much to learn.” Landon followed Waterford to the back.
Seated at a long table were three women of middling ages. Cadby and Rutherford stood as he entered the room. Waterford motioned for him to take the seat at the head of the table. The council members alternated male and female on each side of the table.
Waterford took the seat to Landon’s right. “Lord Hadfield, allow me to introduce you to the Network elders.” Waterford turned to his right. “Mrs. Lennox. Her daughter, Emma, is your cousin Theo’s modiste.” The woman dipped her head in Landon’s direction and then promptly turned to her right as Waterford continued. “You already know Rutherford. Across from Rutherford is Mrs. Cornwell, whose family has served in the Marquess of Burke’s household for generations.”
Landon smiled, revealing his dimple. Instead of a blush rising to the woman’s cheeks, which was the typical response from women of all ages when he displayed the small dent in his cheek, Mrs. Cornwell’s lips thinned into a straight line. Landon inwardly groaned; he was in for a long night of discussions.
Waterford’s gaze landed on Cadby. “The man next to Mrs. Cornwell is Cadby, who you know is Bronwyn’s papa. And last but not least is Mrs. Barnwell. She and her husband own a coaching inn, the Lone Dove. Mrs. Barnwell will be leading the proceedings this evening.”
Thank goodness. The woman was the only one whose glare did not contain a hint of skepticism.
“Lord Hadfield, welcome.” Mrs. Barnwell glanced at each guest in turn before returning to Landon. “It has come to our attention you have expressed an interest in our dear Bronwyn.”
Landon cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Yes. I sent a request around to Mr. Cadby’s establishment in the hopes I’d have the honor of his time and to seek out his blessing. However, Mr. Cadby informed me I was to apply to the council for permission to marry his daughter.”
“There are many reasons why we are protective of our children. But in Bronwyn’s case, we are ever more so, for she holds two important roles within our organization. She is next in line to represent the Cadby family on this council, and she is the sole representative of the next generation as voted by her peers.” Mrs. Barnwell turned to Rutherford. “While we allow Lord Hadfield time to process all I have shared, Rutherford, will you please have the refreshments brought in?”
As Rutherford left the room, Cadby’s features revealed nothing of his thoughts, only his displeasure. Landon attempted to school his shock and annoyance at his lack of knowledge. Marrying Bronwyn would disrupt the dynamics within the Network. But he needed her more than they did. His mind and body were attracted to no other woman. Not a single lady of the ton had managed to capture his interest for longer than a few minutes before his mind would flash an image of Bronwyn. Then all he could do was compare the lady to Bronwyn. None were as interesting or alluring.
Utilizing every ounce of restraint and willpower, Landon remained still with his spine and shoulders steeled straight, bearing the weight of every council member's regard. He ruminated over the progress of the meeting, while the council members continued their evaluation of him. Fears of inadequacy that needled him every day since he obtained the rondure crept to the forefront of his mind. A bitter taste flooded his mouth as he bit down on the inside corner of his lower lip.
Rutherford returned, leading a line of servants laden with food and drink, which confirmed Landon’s suspicion: he would not be leaving any time soon. Landon glanced at Waterford from the corner of his eye. Until now, Waterford’s demeanor had remained impartial, but there was a keenness in the man’s eye as he assessed Landon’s reactions. While Landon had spent months traveling with Waterford and considered him a close friend, he hadn’t totally figured the man out.
A plate was set in front of Landon. Waterford piled food upon Landon’s plate before he turned to his own. The waft of deliciously flavored meats and vegetables invaded Landon’s thoughts, making his stomach rumble. He pressed a hand to his midriff. The elders served themselves one by one. Would they resume their inquisition or feast first?
In any other setting, as head PORF, Landon would be expected to initiate or decide what was to occur next. But he was quite comfortable waiting for the elders to act first. He basked in relief that, for now, he wasn’t expected to be in charge. His decision to retain the rondure and hold the position of head PORF had opened his eyes to the distinctions between classes. Raised on the fringes of the upper class, he’d never pondered the archaic structure of society until he became head PORF. The Network was comprised of individuals from all classes. Still, over generations, the organization remained steadfast in its purpose to serve PORFs—nothing else mattered. They all shared the common goal and treated one another with the same respect. He glanced about the table. The council was a perfect example of how the Network functioned in harmony.
Two years of soul searching had left him exhausted but simultaneously excited for the future. His future father-in-law stared at him as if solving a puzzle of some sort. Landon had conducted himself to the best of his abilities during the adjustment period. Now, he would find out how others had viewed his progression.
Seated at the head of the table, Landon had a clear view of each member. He attempted to decipher which of the elders would act first. His posture remained defensive as he deflected the collective grim expressions sent his way. Waterford’s attention was drawn to the massive pile of food on his plate. Oddly, he resisted consuming the delicious fare.
Mrs. Barnwell clasped her hands together in front of her and closed her eyes. The others followed suit, and he did too. But it was Mr. Cadby’s voice that said, “Let’s pray.”
Landon peeked at the man who was to be his father-in-law. The same man who had tested Landon’s patience, putting him through hours of discomfort as the mark of a PORF was placed upon him. Knowing Cadby’s dislike of him, Landon was prepared to pay a king’s ransom to gain the man’s blessing. He never expected to want to win the man’s respect, but now, Landon questioned whether he was even worthy of marrying one of the Network’s most valued members.
“God, we thank ye for the blessed fare before us and pray for yer divine guidance in the matter before us today. Amen.”
“Amen.” Landon opened his eyes.
All the elders were poised to eat except for Cadby, who said, “What made ye decide to offer for me Bronwyn and not for a titled lady?”
Landon speared a slice of beef onto his fork and raised it to his mouth but then lowered it to his plate to answer. He had anticipated the question, but his pre-formulated answer didn’t roll off his tongue as expected. Instead, he replied, “Bronwyn’s beautiful features remain with me day and night. Her voice is…” Waterford’s booted toe came into direct contact with his leg. He glared at the man, but seeing his friend’s grin, Landon realized waxing poetic phrases now would not gain him the council’s blessings to marry Bronwyn. But his prepared speech would fail also. He’d have to employ his rusty barrister skills and form arguments as each question was posed, but with no prior cases to reference, he’d have to speak from the heart. “I wasn’t raised to hold the title of earl, nor bear the honor of being the head PORF.”
Cadby interrupted, “A titled lady could aid ye…”
Landon raised a hand to halt his future father-in-law. “If you will permit, I have a rather lengthy response.” He glanced about the table. The elders nodded their consent to proceed, and Cadby stuffed his mouth full of food.
“The morn I asked Bronwyn for her hand in marriage, I had no clue she was a member of the Network. But I did know that she was an extraordinary woman. Intelligent and brave. As my secretary, she exhibited a quick mind and had
provided me sound advice for years. She made me a better barrister.” Landon clenched his stomach as it rumbled. The scent of the food tormented him, but winning the elders over was far more important. “Bronwyn does not back away from a challenge. When I told her she could not attend meetings with clients until her enunciation improved, she waltzed into my brother’s office and demanded he assist her. She claimed since Christopher had hired her and told her she was capable of the position, it was his responsibility to train her. Bronwyn worked tirelessly to amend her accent.”
“Aye, and we all suffered for it,” Cadby muttered as he chewed on a turkey leg. Even Mrs. Lennox nodded her head at Cadby’s grumblings.
Ignoring the man’s comment, Landon said, “I do not know of any unmarried, titled ladies who have the qualities I consider imperative for the Countess of Hadfield.” Landon slid a glance to Waterford, who was grinning like a fool. “Bronwyn possesses the virtues I require. She is assertive, brave, compassionate, fair, gracious, and loyal. Should I go on?”
Before Landon could place the bite upon his fork in his mouth, Mrs. Barnwell said, “As a PORF, Bronwyn would lose the right to succeed Mr. Cadby on the council. Her brother Harold will assume the responsibility. We request Harold be trained in law so our members will continue to have access to the legal assistance that Bronwyn currently provides.”
Cadby’s features darkened. It was apparent he did not care for the change.
Landon replied, “I shall ensure Harold receives the best legal training and will confer with Bronwyn as to what her wishes and thoughts are with regard to the matter. What position does Harold currently hold?”
Every fork stilled. Were they shocked he’d discuss the matter with his wife or the fact he dared to pose a query of his own?
Waterford swallowed and whispered, “No questions.”
Landon pushed his plate away from him. He wouldn’t indulge until the proceedings were over. “Obviously, I’m here to address your concerns over my intention to marry Bronwyn.” He shifted his gaze from one elder to the next as he spoke. “But unlike other potential suitors wishing to marry into the Network, I am a PORF. The head PORF. There hasn’t been a PORF who has claimed possession of the rondure in generations. I’ve read journals from all three families, and I’ve yet to find guidance. But there is one fact that is blatantly clear, as the holder of the rondure, I am responsible for all PORFs and the Network.” No one had moved during his entire monologue. He cringed at the thought behaving like a dictator, but PORFs and the Network needed to work together and cease to operate as two separate entities. “I apologize, Mrs. Barnwell, for interrupting the proceedings. I shall table my questions and concerns until after my return from Scotland.”
Revealing a Rogue Page 4
