Page 10 of Revealing a Rogue
“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 balled 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. “Youknowthat 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 wantedherto 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.”
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.
