Page 23 of Revealing a Rogue
Every muscle in his body relaxed. By Scottish law, they were wed. A declaration that they each wished to wed, in front of two witnesses, was all that was required. Originally, marrying and siring an heir had merely been another task to attend to. Rolling his eyes heavenward, he sent up a prayer of thanks for the precious gift he had received in Bronwyn. He committed to loving her for, however many days he had left. Cherishing and bedding her would be a blessing and not a burden.
Instead of dismissing everyone, Mr. Addair held out his hand, and his wife, who had stood slightly behind the man, placed two rings upon his palm. The innkeeper scanned the crowd. “These rings have no beginning and no end. Like the circle around us, each wedding band is an infinite thing—never changing yet always adaptable.” He spoke in a clear voice that carried over the assembled audience. Mr. Addair slid a solid gold band onto Landon’s ring finger. “True love itself is infinite. It knows no boundaries or restrictions.”
Taking Bronwyn’s left hand, Mr. Addair slid a thinner version of Landon’s ring onto her ring finger. “Love flourishes and grows with time. Love cannot be forced and cannot be taken away. It is a gift you give to one another without demands.”
Landon stared down at his wife. He’d caught a flicker of unease in her eyes as Mr. Addair finished his speech. The innkeeper had used the word love. While he was reasonably sure he was in love with Bronwyn, he had yet to say the words. Tonight, he’d tell her.
Peyton touched their bound hands. “My congratulations to you both.”
Jacobs stepped forward next. “Best wishes, my lord, my lady.”
Mr. Addair clapped his hands. “It is done. May I present to you all, the Earl and Countess of Hadfield.”
A round of cheers came from the crowd. Bright smiles all around. They had come to witness the union of one of their own to a PORF, and none was more pleased than Landon himself.
Chapter Eleven
Countess of Hadfield. Bronwyn pinched herself as she repeated her new identity. Instead of rollicking nerves and questions over what her future now entailed, Bronwyn's thoughts were solely focused on the consummation. Bound hand-in-hand to Landon, she entered the empty inn with Peyton and Jacobs behind them.
She nearly lost her balance as Landon came to a stop and turned to address the staff. “We won’t be needing your services this eve.” Her husband continued up the stairs to their chamber for the evening, leaving her no choice to follow. It also eliminated all chance of Peyton sharing any information she’d obtained on how Bronwyn should please Landon. Her bound hand began to sweat. How were they to have marital relations with their hands tied? She hated feeling unprepared. Their interludes in the coach had all centered around her pleasure. Even a ninny could deduce that there was more to the intimate act of consummating their marriage.
She turned slightly sideways to face Landon, in order to go up the narrow staircase. Her heart thudded harder against her ribs with each step they took.
Landon bent at the waist, causing her to hunch over too. Mirroring his movements invoked a sense of closeness. He slipped his free arm under her knees and lifted her, squeezing them through the tight doorway. In opposition to her natural tendency to seek out distance, Bronwyn straightened her back and wrapped her arm about his neck, bringing them even closer. Secure in his arms, Bronwyn rested her head against her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes. All her life, she had been bound by constraints to serve PORFs, and now she was one herself. While she didn’t doubt that being a countess would have its own challenges, held in Landon’s strong arms she found the freedom to simply be. None of her reactions to her husband were consistent.
Still cradling her in his arms, he sat on the bed. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to tread upon your toes, trying to enter through thw blasted door.”
Uncertain of what was expected of her, Bronwyn remained quiet and waited. Her husband’s tempting lips were curved into a lopsided grin. Resisting the desire to pull him closer and kiss him, she ran her free hand down over his shoulder and chest. Her breath hitched as his muscles flexed under her palm. Cursing the fine lawn fabric that separated them, she lowered her free hand to rest in her lap. The snow-white ribbon binding their hands caught her attention. Bound together. She was safe and secure, and oddly at peace with their union. But as Landon tugged at the loop of the material and untied the knots, her confidence unraveled. Fear filled the space between their hands, separating them anew.
Landon loosened the last knot. “You’ll be free in a moment.”
“I apologize for my sweaty hand.”
“Oh, and here I believed mine was the sweaty one.” His dimple appeared, and Bronwyn’s heart melted.
She spied her wedding gift to him, lying upon the desk in the corner. Bronwyn had convinced Rutherford to create a pair of cuff links embossed with the letter “H” surrounded by laurel leaves. Old Man Rutherford had argued it would take him a week to create such pieces, but Bronwyn had wielded her power as Landon’s wife-to-be, and the jeweler had acquiesced. At the time, a pang of guilt had her questioning her decision to employ the authority of a PORF when she had yet to officially become one.
As soon as her hand was freed from Landon’s, she hopped off his lap and skipped over the desk, eager to see his reaction. She paused in front of two boxes of similar size—both with Rutherford’s stamp upon the top and white ribbons securing the lid.
Bronwyn jumped as Landon’s hand fell upon her shoulder. She frowned. “I’m not sure which one is my gift to you.”
“Then let’s both of us open them.”
He reached around her, picked up the box on the left, and placed it upon his palm. “You pull on this end, and I’ll pull the other.”
The ribbon fell away, and Bronwyn tentatively lifted the lid to reveal an exquisite charm bracelet. The bracelet itself was fashioned from silver and pearls. She lifted it out of the box to examine the charms. A horse. A falcon. A tiara. An angel and a harp. How very clever of him to select charms that represented both PORFs and the Network.
She glanced up to thank him, but his eyebrows had lifted with an element of surprise. “Is it not what you had ordered?”
Her husband cleared his throat. “It’s perfect. But…” Landon sighed. Instead of continuing to speak he took the bracelet and opened the clasp.
She held out her wrist for him. The cold metal upon her skin raised goosebumps to her elbow. She waited for him to finish his sentence. Her breath caught in her throat as he brushed a finger along the inside of her wrist.
Landon inhaled deeply and then said, “It was not I who placed the order. Theo did on my behalf.”
“It’s still a thoughtful gift, no matter who gave Rutherford the order.” She lifted her hand closer to inspect the charms.
“Theo always chooses the best gifts.”
