Bronwyn leaned forward and pinned Emma with her gaze. “Why do I suspect that your change of heart about the ball and your betrothal are somehow interrelated?”
“I’ve no clue wot goes on in that head of yers. Aren’t ladies supposed to offer tea or refreshments?”
The faint sound of Christopher’s footsteps in the hall had Emma jumping to her feet, nearly tripping over her own blasted skirts. “Christopher has arrived.”
Bronwyn looked to the door. “How do you know it is Christopher and not my husband?”
“First, the staff scurry when Landon is about. Second, Landon favors Hessian boots, which have a heavy heel, and Christopher has taken to wearing the new shorter-heeled boot designed by Wellington and made by Hoby. Does becoming pregnant make ye deaf?” Emma moved quickly to stand near the far window. Her feelings for Christopher remained a jumbled mess. She wasn’t prepared to see her betrothed. Not having time to fully sort through all her mum had shared with her this morn, Emma instinctively slipped back into the shadows
“Not at all. You have always had better hearing than I.”
Emma muttered, “Or now ye are a lady, ye’re getting’ soft and not payin’ attention to wot’s goin’ on?”
Bronwyn snapped back, “I heard that.”
Emma positioned herself so the drape partially concealed her form but allowed her a clear view of the door and her friend. Bronwyn was carefully arranging both her skirts and her features. The door flew open, and Christopher marched in.
Bent to give Bronwyn a hug, he asked, “How are you feeling today?”
Christopher was dressed in a royal blue jacket with a plain white waistcoat and cravat. The ends of the navy cravat that no doubt went with his ensemble but was instead in Emma’s hair brushed against the back of her neck. She clutched the edge of the drapes. The urge to be near him was at odds with her training to remain undetected.
Bronwyn’s smile was strained. “I’m well.”
“Liar.”
“I am not.” The ladylike curve of Bronwyn’s lips was gone, replaced with a grin that held a challenge. Emma wanted to warn Christopher to be careful, but Bronwyn released a heavy sigh and said, “It’s not my pregnancy that has my stomach in knots this morn.”
Blimey. They had been raised to be mistrustful of others, and it was a rarity that Bronwyn ever let her guard down. Yet Christopher, in a matter of moments, had disarmed Bronwyn and had the woman confessing the truth. Hadn’t he charmed Emma just as easily? Egad. She would need to be cautious, or she, like Bronwyn, would lose her edge.
Bronwyn reached into her skirts and handed Christopher a box. “This arrived for you hours ago.”
Christopher inspected the box, but his features gave Emma no indication of what might be inside. “Perfect.” He placed the box on the side table and flopped onto the settee as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Clutching her hands in her lap, Bronwyn asked, “Did you meet with the council?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, and I should like to share with my fiancée what was discussed as soon as she decides to cease attempting to blend into the damned curtains and come join us.”
Bronwyn whispered, “Old habits are hard to break. Give her some time.”
Emma’s nostrils flared as she inhaled and walked directly to stand before her betrothed. Glancing down at Christopher, all her anger evaporated at the sight of his teasing smile. Tamping down the urge to kiss the smirk off the man’s face, Emma asked, “Did ye get the council’s permission?”
Christopher patted the space next to him. “They have requested I see to a number of tasks before and after we wed.” He reached for Emma’s hand and rubbed his thumb over the top of her knuckles. Turning to address Bronwyn, he said, “Was Landon present when you met with the council?”
What the devil was going on? Emma sank to the settee, and Christopher pulled her closer to him. Worried that the council had made impossible demands, she settled in close as an act of support.
Bronwyn’s eyebrows arched. “My husband had already left when Mrs. Lennox arrived and requested I attend an impromptu council meeting prior to meeting with you.”
“Would care to explain the reasoning behind their requests?” All the color faded from Bronwyn’s face as he pulled out a piece of ripped parchment from his breast pocket. “In particular, why Emma is to provide her services exclusively to this one woman?”
Emma couldn’t believe her ears. The council was restricting her clientele to one. “Who?”
Bronwyn raised her chin and answered, “Miss Eliza Suttingham.”
Emma blurted, “Who on God’s green earth is that?”
Her best friend calmly said, “The woman who Tobias, Lord Burke, is in love with and the reason why he has abandoned his duties here as PORF and left for New York.”
“Is that your hypothesis as a PORF or a former Network member?” Christopher’s question caused Bronwyn to flinch. It was odd to see her normally unflappable friend flustered.
“It’s not a theory. It is a fact.”
“So Lord Burke informed my brother that he has forsaken his oath to carry out the Burkes’ family duty to protect the royal family.”
“Well, not exactly. Prior to leaving, he did not share his plans with any of the PORFs.” Bronwyn’s eyes darted to Emma.
“Hmph.” When Emma’s huff failed to draw Christopher’s attention, she moved her free hand to rest upon Christopher’s knee. His gaze fell upon her hand before it traveled up to meet Emma’s. “The Network elders were informed that when Lord Burke departed for the New World, he instructed his steward to sell everything that wasn’t entailed and left specific instructions as to how to disburse the funds to those in his service.”
Christopher glanced back at Bronwyn. “Then explain why I am to convince your husband it is prudent for a retinue of Network members be sent to follow Lord Burke?”
Emma didn’t care for Christopher’s tone. Her friend was in a challenging position. Like Emma, Bronwyn had been raised to take a seat at the council table when the time came. But now, Bronwyn was a PORF and no longer privy to all the Network’s workings and discussions. Emma spoke before Bronwyn. “What exactly did the council task you with?”
Christopher shifted to face Emma fully. “What would you say to traveling across the ocean to the New World for a spell, after we wed?”
His question slowly registered in her mind. She peeked over his shoulder at Bronwyn, whose eyes were trained on the tips of her shoes that were poking out from beneath her skirts.
Bronwyn stood and said, “Excuse me, I shall go see about arranging tea.” Her friend practically ran to the door and closed it as she left.
Emma raised her hand and cupped Christopher’s cheek. She had a plethora of questions, but she saw the worry in his eyes. Leaning forward, she tilted her head slightly and pressed her mouth to his. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He opened for her. Emma kissed him with a passion she hadn’t realized had been slowly building all the while she sat next to him. A deep groan mixed with her soft mews until she pulled back for air.
“Has the council tasked ye to oversee the safety of the Network members who are to go?”
“Aye.”
“Did they order me to accompany ye?”
“Nay. They requested that ye limit your services to Miss Suttingham.”
“Who resides in America.”
“That is true.”
“Are ye goin’ to convince Lord Burke to return to England?”
“I’ve had the opportunity to work with the Suttinghams on a number of occasions since the trade embargoes were lifted. From my dealings with Miss Eliza, she is a woman who shares our strong beliefs in fulfilling one’s duties.” Christopher pulled her on to his lap. “I’ve no idea what Lord Burke’s plans are, but I intend to find out.”
“Ye didn’t answer me question.” Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes. “Ye don’t need to prove to me ye’re the best barrist
er about. I know ye are. Will ye jus’ answer me straight?”
Christopher grinned. “I’ve no plans to persuade anyone to do anything they don’t want to.”
She wasn’t certain if they were discussing Lord Burke or whether she was willing to accompany him.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I simply don’t believe Lord Burke has indeed decided not to return. Mayhap he is uncertain as to how long it will take him to convince Miss Suttingham to marry him. She’s not the trusting sort, and there very well may be vile rumors that have reached foreign soil regarding Lord Burke’s sordid past and his recent actions.”
Emma’s heart cinched at the possibility Lord Burke’s affections might not be returned. How painful that would be. Warm and secure in Christopher’s lap, she didn’t want to move and sever the moment.
But Christopher pulled back and placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead. “What do you think about venturing across the ocean with me?”
Miss Suttingham wasn’t the only one who wasn’t the trusting sort. To leave her family, the security of the Network, and place her full trust in Christopher, a man she was only beginning to understand, was too much. Her heart ached. “I want to marry ye, but I can’t leave.” Her stomach clenched, and she shook her head. She wasn’t ready to embark on this challenge. She couldn’t give up the one thing she could call all her own. Not yet.
Her mum’s words, uttered repeatedly over the years, rang in her head—Ye’re sworn to abide by the wishes of all PORFs. What had she done? Christopher wasn’t technically a PORF until he received the mark. She wasn’t bound by her oath—was she? Blast. Why had she agreed to marry a bloomin’ Neale? The skin along the back of her neck prickled. Christopher ignited a passion she couldn’t ignore. He created within her a sense of caring for a man she’d not experienced before. Grappling with her thoughts, she didn’t notice that Christopher had unwrapped her arms from about his neck and settled her next to him on the settee until she was a good arm’s length away from him.
Voice gruff, Christopher said, “I shan’t force you to do anything that displeases you. I myself spent most of the day pondering the request. I fully understand how scary and daunting it is to even think about leaving one's family for an unknown time period. But this is an important mission. The PORFs need to know for certain what Lord Burke’s intentions are. And the Network elders believe it imperative Lord Burke be protected until he denounces his oath as PORF.”
Emma’s shoulders rolled forward. “Do ye still wish to marry me?”
“Aye, most definitely. You can’t get out of your promise to wed me that easily. If you choose to remain, we shall begin your lessons immediately.”
“Lessons?”
Christopher grinned. “I must teach you how to read and write so we can correspond.”
She tried to return his smile, but her lips refused to turn up at the corners. “I need to return to my shop.” Emma stood, and Christopher did too. Before she could do something insane like plaster herself to the man, Emma twirled and fled.
Never before had she wished for a different life.
She loved her shop. Her family needed her support.
Halfway to the foyer, Bronwyn caught Emma by the upper arms. “Where are you going?” Her friend’s eyes filled with worry.
“I must return to my shop.”
“Sarah and Maude are capable. They can look after the orders for the afternoon.”
“I’m not talkin about today. Ye don’t understand…”
“Emma. I know what the council has asked of Christopher. Landon will hate the idea of Christopher venturing so far from home. Christopher will need his wife by his side.”
“But wot of me family and the shop?”
“Don’t you trust Landon and me to care for your family?” Bronwyn let her hands fall to clasp Emma’s. “You know there are plenty of us willing to help with the shop. It will be here. Your husband will not.”
Emma shook her head.
Bronwyn released Emma and took a step back. “I shan’t say more. But promise me you will think upon what really makes you happiest. Knowing Christopher, he will support whatever you decide. But the Americas is a long journey from here. I’d not want Landon to be that far from me.”
“Was it not ye who slept in me bed but a few months ago, after runnin’ away from yer husband?”
“Oh aye, that was me, and I’m telling you don’t make the same mistake I did. If you love Christopher, which I suspect you do—you had best be ready to board the ship alongside him.”
Emma tucked her stubborn chin to her chest and left her friend's side. Marching out of the Hadfield townhouse, Emma concluded Bronwyn was right, but her heart ached at the thought of leaving her family. She needed to return to the shop. Sorting buttons would detangle the knots in her brain.
* * *
His sister-in-law entered the drawing room with a dark scowl upon her face. He wasn’t ready to discuss matters with her and turned back to look out the window, hoping to catch one more glimpse of Emma before she hopped into the faux hack his brother had purchased for Emma’s use. He didn’t blame Emma for not wanting to leave. There wouldn’t be anyone across the ocean willing to take such preposterous actions merely to see to their safety or well-being. They would be in a strange land with few acquaintances and a small contingent of supporters. Except they would have each other, but only if Emma agreed to accompany him.
Bronwyn came to stand next to him. “You’re going to charm Emma into going with you, aren’t you?”
Christopher continued to stare out onto the street. “Don’t you ever tire of meddling in others’ lives and of others interfering in yours?” He certainly did.
His sister-in-law leaned a little further to peer out the window. “All my life, it is how things have been done. The Network attempts to only involve themselves for the benefit of the whole, not one individual. However, I can’t say I’ve seen PORFs behave in the same manner throughout the years.”
“Ha. This coming from a PORF.” His breath caught in his chest, hoping Emma would turn to see him in the window. Without a backward glance, she bounded up into the vehicle that would see her safely delivered to her shop. He exhaled, releasing his disappointment.
“A PORF who only received the mark seven weeks ago.” Bronwyn rested a hand upon his arm. “You know the council would not have requested your assistance if they didn’t believe it imperative.”
“But would they have sought out my aid if I hadn’t been seeking their permission to marry Emma?”
Bronwyn left his side to resume the seat she had occupied earlier. “I have no idea what would or could have been done if circumstances had been different. However, I’m certain the council will not be happy to hear you are willing to leave Emma behind.”
He wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Emma remaining in London either, but he wouldn’t force his betrothed to accompany him. Christopher meandered over to the table and slipped the box that contained Emma’s ring into his pocket. Taking a turn about the room, Christopher contemplated all that must be done prior to the wedding and his departure.
Pausing to stand before Bronwyn, he already regretted what he was about to ask of his sister-in-law, but it had to be done, “Will you assist me in ensuring Landon stays out of Lord Weathersbee’s way and allows the man to handle matters at Neale & Sons while I’m away?”
Bronwyn nodded. “How long do you expect to be gone?”
“Mayhap six months, but it’s questionable whether I’d survive that long without Emma.” Damnation, the truth was he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without her. But what was he to do?
Chapter Twenty
Mounted upon his horse, Christopher slid a glance at his brother, who sported a rather nasty gash above his right eyebrow. Having already spent most of the day away from the office, Christopher decided to write the entire day off and accepted Landon’s invitation for a ride. He’d hoped a hard ride and some fresh air would help provide clarity as to how b
est to go about declaring his love for Emma. He did not expect to be trotting along the crowded path in Hyde Park. “Why are we here?”
“I’m attempting to gain intel, and I needed to speak with you.”
Christopher wasn’t in the mood for one of his brother’s lectures, nor was he ready to even attempt to discuss the Network’s requests.
Landon’s brows angled sharply down. “Waterford informed me you have sought out the Network Council’s approval to wed Emma.”
Lips thinned into a straight line, Christopher held in the expletive that threatened to burst from him in a roar. Waterford had no right to tell Landon. He’d planned to tell his mama and Landon at supper later that evening. However, he’d not have the pleasure of sharing the good news with his own family. His chest constricted. How to explain to his mama that he was to marry, receive the mark of a PORF, and then set sail for America—mayhap without his bride. His mama had always provided sage advice, and he’d hoped she’d be able to guide him. The knot about his heart tightened. Half a world away, he’d not have a family. But he’d also not have the meddling of well-intentioned friends like Waterford.
Landon stroked his horse’s neck to settle the beast as they were forced to come to a halt. “Are congratulations in order or not?”
He wasn’t ready to answer. Christopher asked, “Who are we spying on today?”
“Lord Markinson.”
“Whatever for?”
“The scoundrel apparently has been acting out of character of late and even paid a visit to Rutherford’s.”
Good gracious. To think the Head PORF had nothing better to do than gallivant about town to conduct investigations into the behavior of a gentleman. The ton rumors were far more extravagant than Markinson could ever possibly achieve, but the man had never bothered to attempt to squelch the audacious gossip. He tilted his head in Landon’s direction. “And you are concerned…why?”
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