Tempting a Gentleman

by Smith, Rachel Ann

  “If Lord Burke doesn’t return, then we must find another family to fill the vacancy.”

  Christopher scoffed. “If? Or have you already decided for Lord Burke? And why not Hereford? He is already appointed advisor to the King and Prince Regent. The official role held by the Burkes previously.”

  Lowering his voice, Landon answered, “Hereford too is under consideration. However, times are changing, and so must the PORFs and the Network.”

  Hmm. Christopher didn’t disagree with Landon, but in his experience, most people feared change. Fear. Emma was scared. It was the only reasonable explanation for her hesitancy to accompany him.

  The gaggle of carriages was moving again. Kicking his heels, Christopher moved his steed forward slightly ahead of Landon. When his brother drew even, Christopher said, “I request your blessing to escort a Network contingent across the ocean to support our missing comrade Lord Burke.”

  They rode in silence. Landon’s gaze remained forward as if he hadn’t heard Christopher. However, he knew his brother was ruminating upon the request. Landon never did anything in haste.

  Further along, headed towards them on the opposite side of the path, Christopher spied their target. Markinson rode alongside a carriage that conveyed his two sisters, both a decade younger than himself. The girls were wide-eyed and tittering behind their hands. Had it already been a year since Markinson’s mama died? It was clear as day to Christopher the reasons behind Markinson’s reform. He wanted his sisters to marry well. Thoughts of marriage had images of Emma floating before him. Oblivious to the passing crowd, Christopher’s thoughts were on the woman he wished was riding next to him. His mount slowed, matching his brother's pace.

  Landon nodded. “Hereford. Lady Arabelle. You are a vision this fine afternoon.”

  “Lord Hadfield. Mr. Neale, how lovely to see you both out today.” Arabelle had greeted them both, but her gaze was focused upon Christopher.

  Christopher looked past Lady Arabelle to find Markinson glaring at them. He didn’t blame the man for being irritated—holding up traffic was extremely annoying.

  Nodding to Arabelle’s brother, Christopher said, “Hereford.”

  Turning to smile at Arabelle, Christopher caught the heightened coloring in Markinson’s cheeks. The man wasn’t angry at being delayed. No, the blaze in the man’s eyes was a sign of jealousy. Christopher chuckled. Both he and Arabelle had been disappointed that their well-timed discreet kisses to raise Markinson’s ire a year ago had failed to prompt the man into action. It appeared he might have had a change of heart recently. Guilt clogged Christopher’s throat. He was a damn hypocrite. He had interjected himself and played a part in trying to bring another man up to snuff—interfering, like a meddlesome marriage-minded mama, in another man’s life. No one should be manipulated into making life-altering decisions.

  Landon must have seen his discomfort and said, “Lady Arabelle, how observant of you. It’s terribly hard to convince Christopher to leave the office these days.”

  The woman finally withdrew her gaze from Christopher, but her features were marred by a slight frown. “I’m looking forward to finally meeting Countess Hadfield. I shall see you both at the Hadfield ball?”

  His brother’s smile brightened. “Of course. I wouldn’t dare upset my dear wife.”

  Landon gave Christopher a sharp look. There was an underlying message, but at present, Christopher was keeping a close eye on Markinson, who grew more irate by the moment.

  With a curt nod, Christopher said, “A good day to you both. Hereford. Lady Arabelle.” Urging his mount forward once again, Christopher avoided Markinson’s angry glare as they passed by seconds later.

  Chuckling, Landon slapped Christopher on the shoulder. “My thanks, brother. I have all the intel I sought. Let’s return to my townhouse for a glass of brandy, shall we?”

  He shook his head. “Not unless you are planning on providing me with your consent to travel abroad.”

  “Let’s not discuss this here. Perhaps in my library would be preferable.”

  “Brother, there is nothing to deliberate. It is either a yes or a no.” Christopher had never spoken to Landon in such a curt manner. He didn’t have time to debate the issue. If Landon would not give his endorsement, he’d speak to the patriarch of the other PORF family, Theo’s husband, Lord Archbroke, and gain his backing.

  “Don’t bother thinking about approaching Archbroke. I’m Head PORF, not he.”

  Blast. Christopher hated that Landon knew him so well. “There is much to do, so please give me your answer.”

  Landon sighed. “Answer me this first. Do you plan on returning?”

  “If Emma refuses to accompany me, then yes, without a doubt. If she changes her mind and allows me to take her on an adventure, I can make no guarantees.”

  “You would go without Emma?” Landon’s horse whinnied and moved off the path. His brother’s thighs must have twitched at his outburst.

  Christopher maneuvered his mount around to rejoin Landon. “I don’t wish to, but I will not force her to come along.”

  Landon stared at him as if he didn’t recognize who he was. Christopher waited. Unlike others, Landon was not intimidated by silence. After the count of forty-five, Landon urged his mount towards Christopher.

  Embracing Christopher in an awkward hug, Landon whispered, “You have my blessing and best wishes, little brother.”

  Christopher beamed, and the sun shone a little brighter through the clouds. The uncertain future that had weighed on his shoulders all day was no longer a burden but a ray of hope. If Emma saw the future in the same light, then all would be well. But what if she didn’t?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A pea whizzed past Emma and miraculously landed inside her little brother’s wide-open mouth. Thomas’s broad grin had Emma laughing. She hadn’t felt much like smiling since leaving the Hadfield townhouse. Sarah and Maude had shooed her from the shop after Emma had accidentally pinned the wrong pattern to a fine cream-colored silk. Thankfully she hadn’t taken her shears to the material before Maude had caught the mistake. Distracted by thoughts of Christopher and his plans to leave England, she had wandered about the penny street markets until she found herself in front of her parents’ house.

  Thomas swallowed the hearty bite of bread he’d managed to stuff in his small mouth. “Em, are ye goin’ to eat yer cheese?”

  Emma picked up a slice of her brother’s favorite cheese from her full plate and handed it to him. Her mum shook her head but grinned at the same time. Emma scanned the other smiling faces about the table. Her whole family was happy. She was to marry in a few weeks and a little in awe that she was to become a PORF. Her sisters had badgered her to bring Christopher home to meet them until her mum told them her betrothed had already promised to join them for supper every Wednesday. Her mum failed to mention it was only until he departed for the New World, but Emma understood there was no need to dampen their spirits.

  The sisters rose and collected the empty food platters while her brothers gathered the dishes. Her mum placed a hand on Emma’s arm. “Let yer sisters and brothers take care of cleaning up. Yer dad and me want to have a chat with ye. In the parlor.”

  Emma rose and followed her mum into the cozy room, a quarter of the size of Bronwyn’s drawing room. Her dad was adding logs to the fire when they entered. Emma was anxious to see if he’d be smiling or frowning when he finally turned around to greet them. Her heart sank when her dad’s lips were drawn tight, and his usual broad smile was missing.

  Her mum gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made her dad smile. Her dad’s eyes twinkled at the loving gesture. She had seen a similar twinkle in Christopher’s gaze when he held her close.

  Sinking to the floor, Emma curled her feet under her and waited for her parents to sit on the couch. Once they were seated, she looked to her mum and said, “I don’t understand the reasoning for the council’s requests. I don’t want to leave London.”

  “Luv, we discu
ssed this earlier. Ye’re goin’ to marry a bloomin’ PORF.” With watery eyes, her mum continued, “I’ve never struggled with being a council member until today. Choosin’ wot was best for our organization over wot I want was not easy.” Her mum reached out to cup Emma’s face. “Ye’re a smart, strong-willed girl. I’m ever so proud of ye.”

  Emma sat back, pulling away from her mum’s touch. If she was so smart, why wasn’t she able to figure out the logic in leaving her shop, her family, her friends; all for the unknown. Yes, she could set up shop in a new town, but the council’s request precluded her from doing so by limiting her to designing for the stranger, Miss Suttingham. “Explain why Miss Suttingham’s name was the only one on the list, then?”

  “My, my. I can’t believe Mr. Neale has shared that with ye.”

  Emma rarely saw her mum in a state of surprise. Was her mum’s reaction due to Christopher having openly shared the information prior to their union or because he had informed her at all? He was a brilliant barrister, and he could have kept the details a secret if he wished. Happiness spread through her chest. Christopher trusted her, and he’d given her the option to stay or leave. As a husband, he’d have every right to order her to journey with him. Lifting her gaze to her parents, Emma replied. “He did. He said I could decide if I want to stay or go.”

  Her dad’s lips finally broke into a smile. “See, luv, I told ye he wouldn’t force her.” He leaned back and wrapped an arm about his wife’s shoulders. “He’ll go get things done and come home to Em.”

  Rounding on her dad, her mum said, “That is not wot the council intended. We explained it all to him.”

  The subtle movements of give and take between her parents were intriguing. Emma hadn’t paid close attention to her parents’ actions before. But the gentle stroke of her dad’s thumb, her mum’s tendency to lean into her dad, struck Emma to the core. It was the same with her and Christopher. Her body sought to be closer to Christopher whenever he was near, and whenever possible, Christopher would gently caress her or provide soothing touches.

  Her dad’s booming, “Ha!” brought her attention back to her parents.

  With a smirk, her dad said, “Then ye must have left somethin’ out. Mr. Neale is a fine barrister—”

  Her mum rounded on Emma. “Why would ye even consider letting yer husband leave ye behind?”

  Emma snapped back, “Why would I leave my family? The Network needs me here.”

  Her mum sank back and leaned into Emma’s dad. The woman Emma loved and admired most sat unmoving with a look of disappointment upon her delicate features. Recoiling on the inside, Emma admitted she’d been rude and disrespectful. “I’m sorry, Mum.”

  With a nod, her mum acknowledged her apology. “I’m not gonna say this again, so listen carefully, child. Ye marry Mr. Neale, ye become a PORF, and yer priorities and responsibilities change. The Network will support ye. Yer family will always be yer family. But yer future… well, only ye get to decide upon that. No one else, ye understand?”

  Emma shook her head. She was stubborn. But as usual, her mum was right—her future was within her control. “Aye.” Christopher was her future. She cared for the man deeply, more than she thought herself capable of. Just thinking of him eased some of the ache in her heart.

  Her dad leaned forward and hauled Emma into his lap like she was five all over again. He had the same serious set to his features that he’d worn the day he asked Emma for her permission to marry her mum. “Girl, I’ve never known ye to back down from a challenge, and no matter wot ye decide, I’ll support ye.” He placed a kiss upon her forehead and then set Emma on her feet. “Ye want to walk back to yer shop or ride in a hack?”

  Her dad hated cramped quarters. She gave him a smile and walked to the door. Hand on the latch, Emma said, “I fink I’ll take a hack…alone. Simon and the boys will follow—no need for ye to be traipsing about town at this hour.” She closed the door behind her, but not before she caught a glimpse at her dad’s broad grin and her mum’s sad but proud, watery eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Aligning the sheets of parchment in his hands, Christopher tapped the bottoms to his desk. Four damn days of meetings and discussions with Lord Weathersbee and Landon had worn Christopher’s patience thin. He hadn’t managed to escape to spend a single moment with Emma. He’d tried to listen to the staff’s whispers, but none gave Christopher any clue what had been preoccupying his betrothed’s time. He had drafted a note explaining his absence, which had also included some rather intimate details of what he wanted and had been dreaming of doing with Emma, but thought better of sending it, knowing someone would have to read it to her. He’d thrown the love letter into the fire, and as it turned to ashes, so had Christopher’s hopes of her accompanying him. Instead, he relayed messages to Emma via her guard, Simon, hoping Emma understood how time intensive it was to prepare for his departure.

  Christopher froze at the rap at his office door. “Enter.” It was Simon. A breath trapped in his chest, Christopher waited for the man to approach.

  Bent at the waist so Weathersbee and Landon wouldn’t be able to hear, Simon said softly, “Mr. Neale, Miss Lennox wants ye to know she fully understands. And to let ye know she’s too busy to keep responding to yer messages. She asks ye to stop sending me back and forth for no reason.”

  Christopher concentrated on relaxing every clenched muscle in his body. He calmly placed the papers flat upon the desk and turned to address Simon. “Tell Miss Lennox…”

  “Mr. Neale, if ye don’t mind, may I give ye some advice?”

  The bold request had Christopher narrowing his gaze at the man.

  Simon’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Me mistress is no’ lying. She’s been running about faster than a hare. Don’t ask me wot she’s about cuz I don’t know, and she ain’t talkin’ to no one. If ye want answers, ye best figure out a way to go see her yerself.”

  The fear that Emma would simply tell him to go to the New World alone had kept him hiding in his offices. He released a sigh. He could no longer avoid the discussion. “Please inform Miss Lennox to expect me later this eve.”

  The relief that washed over Simon’s features was clear for all the men in the room to see. Simon nodded and rushed out of the office.

  Weathersbee rose and tapped his knuckles on Christopher’s desk twice. “I believe I’ve accomplished all I wish for the day. I shall return tomorrow.”

  Christopher raised his eyes to the man, who was proving to be rather resourceful and extremely proficient at learning the operations of the office. In less than a week, Weathersbee had managed to set the employees at ease regarding Christopher’s pending departure for an unspecified time period. They all believed Christopher to be planning an extravagantly romantic adventure for his bride.

  Donning his coat, Weathersbee said, “Best wishes for your meeting this eve, Mr. Neale.”

  Landon, who had remained mute for most of their afternoon discussions, said, “Will you be attending Hereford’s soiree tonight, Weathersbee?”

  “Yes. I had planned on attending for a spell. At least long enough to garner any information that might assist us in Millard’s case.” Without waiting for a response, Weathersbee slid the last button into place and, with a curt nod, left Christopher’s office.

  Landon stood and moved to the window as Weathersbee walked out. His brother carefully shifted the drapes to the side. “I suspect the old man’s motivations for attending this evening’s entertainment is not solely linked to our case.”

  Christopher glanced up from the case file he’d opened. “What other reason could there be?”

  “Did you know…Weathersbee’s papa’s estate was but a few miles away from our grandfather’s?”

  Rolling his head to one side, Christopher kneaded his strained neck muscles. “What are you implying?” Landon was always suspicious of others’ motivations, but his distrust had multiplied upon claiming his position as Head PORF.

  “Mama was renowned for her beaut
y before Grandfather disowned her for marrying Papa.” Landon’s breath fogged the window. He cleared the glass pane with his sleeve and intently peered out again.

  “And what does that have to do with Weathersbee?”

  “Hmph.” Landon let the curtain fall back into place and returned to his seat in front of Christopher. “I’m not sure, but the man’s gaze lingers on Mama a moment too long for my liking.”

  What would it matter to Landon if Weathersbee was interested in their mama? A spark of ire at his brother’s meddling spurred Christopher to ask, “Are you opposed to the idea of Mama finding love and remarrying?”

  “You know I’m not. But Weathersbee? He’s younger than Mama.”

  Christopher chuckled at Landon’s appalled expression. “Brother, you are a stick in the mud. Mama is quite capable of taking care of herself. Now, promise to leave matters alone.”

  “I promised not to interfere with Weathersbee running the firm. I will not make the same promise regarding Mama.” Landon shook his head and glared at Christopher.

  Christopher was in no mood to debate the issue with his brother. “I’ll leave it up to Mama to sort you out. I have many matters of my own to rectify.”

  “Like speaking to your betrothed about whatever issue has caused you to stay away from her for…well, too many days in my mind.”

  Irritated, Christopher barked, “Unless you have any wisdom to impart, I suggest you leave.”

  “Having married a former Network member myself, I shall impart my hard-won knowledge. The Network raises its girls to be strong and brave, but that doesn’t mean they do not possess fears. I’m certain Emma shares the same concerns as you about the mission. My recommendation is you find a way to face them together.” His brother unwound his long form and stood. “I shall keep an eye on Weathersbee since I presume you will be otherwise occupied this eve.”