Page 42 of Revealing a Rogue
They entered the grand dining room and Landon squeezed her hand.
Sapphire blue skirts filled Bronwyn’s view. “Chin up.”
Recognizing Theo’s voice, Bronwyn dutifully raised her face. Her husband glared down at his cousin, clearly displeased.
Theo ignored Landon and said, “Cousin, you look magnificent tonight.” Theo waved a hand, and a footman appeared. “Larry will show you to your seat while I have a quick word with my dear, beloved cousin.”
Nervous about leaving Landon’s side, she tightened her grip on her husband’s arm.
Landon whispered, “I’ll be seated opposite you, to the right of Archbroke. I’ll just be a moment.”
Theo shook her head. “I’m afraid not. With Prinny’s arrival I’ve had to move the seating arrangements. Bronwyn will be seated tomyright and you on Archbroke’s left.”
Dear heaven. What was the Prince Regent doing here? Theo had lost her mind seating her in the third highest-ranking guest position at the table.
The footman stepped forward and led Bronwyn to her seat. She managed to catch but a few of Theo’s agitated words—Prinny doesn’t approve.
What did the Prince Regent not support? Most likely, the heir to the throne thought her unworthy of Landon. And Bronwyn agreed. Wringing her hands in her lap under the table as the footman pushed in Bronwyn’s chair, she glanced to her left. Lady Lucy was as beautiful as the rampant Network rumors had whispered. Petite with shimmering blonde hair and a sweet but mischievous smile. Without an introduction, Bronwyn remained mute and forced the corners of her mouth up in an attempt to mirror Lady Lucy’s welcoming expression. Down the table, Bronwyn spied Lord Waterford. His attention was trained on the seat opposite him further down the large dining table, which meant Bronwyn would not be able to see Lady Mary for the duration of the meal.
Lady Lucy chuckled. “Waterford has always been watchful of Mary, but since they married, he detests being more than a foot away from her.”
Bronwyn turned to face the woman. “I apologize…”
Lady Lucy casually rested a hand on Bronwyn’s forearm. “Countess Hadfield. Theo holds you in very high esteem. I hope you will grant me the honor of addressing you...”
She interrupted the woman and blushed. “Please call me Bronwyn.”
The woman’s blue-gray eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Lady Bronwyn, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lucy, and this”—she leaned back and waved a hand at the man seated next to her—“is my husband, Blake. Also known as Earl of Devonton.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Devonton, Lady Devonton.” The informality of Lady Lucy’s introduction caught Bronwyn off guard. The lady had broken at least a half dozen or so etiquette rules.
“Lady Bronwyn, I’d be honored if you called me Blake. We are in the company of good friends…except for our last-minute guest.” His brow furrowed into a frown.
Lady Lucy elbowed her husband hard in the ribs. “It’s none of our business why the Prince Regent decided to invite himself. Plus, Theo thankfully placed him far from us. We won’t be subjected to his nonsense this eve.”
“Theo knows you can’t hold your tongue, and none of us care to see you imprisoned for offending our dear Prince Regent.” The familiar voice had Bronwyn clenching her hands. Lord Hereford was seated across from her. The man was responsible for Emma’s rare but devastating bouts of anguish. He had also recently been appointment to the role of Crown advisor, a position previously held by a PORF for generations.
Taking a deep breath, she shifted her regard to the other guests. Where were Christopher and her mother-in-law? Bronwyn had hoped Theo would have seated them nearby.
Theo glided up to the table and took her seat. As if reading her mind, Theo leaned over and said, “Christopher is seated near Landon, and Aunt Henri has chosen to dine in her rooms tonight.”
“Is she unwell?”
“No, as soon as Aunt Henri learned of the Prince Regent’s arrival along with his entourage, she declined to join us. She did ask me to pass along her apologies and promises to make it up to you another time.”
Unable to hold back her curiosity, Bronwyn asked, “Why is he here?”
Theo’s light demeanor disappeared. “I’ll leave it to Landon to inform you.” Instead of smiling at her guests, who were all unabashedly eavesdropping on their conversation, Theo’s lips thinned into a straight line. She glared at the lot of them until they turned their attention to the elegant dining sets placed before them.
Bronwyn scanned the guests seated near them. None of them were privy to the existence of PORFs or the Network. A tendril of unease ran down her spine.
A procession of footmen entered the room and placed bowls of soup in front of each guest. Bronwyn waited for the others to begin eating before she dared to lift her own spoon. Bringing the heavy silver utensil to her mouth, she stilled her shaking hand in order not to spill the onion stock down her chin. The broth was warm and soothing. Bronwyn concentrated on consuming her soup while Lady Lucy regaled her with the events that resulted in their delayed arrival.
Lady Lucy finished with, “We should have arrived sooner, but it took an extraordinary amount of effort for themento fix the broken axle.”
Theo smiled and said, “We are simply glad you both arrived safe and sound.”
Everyone around her was engrossed in Lady Lucy’s tale. Bronwyn scooped another spoonful of soup. With the broth halfway to her mouth, Bronwyn’s noticed the near-full bowls of the other guests. In her house, it was rude to leave food uneaten. Placing her spoon to her lips, she managed to swallow the soup that now tasted cold and bitter. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. At the far end of the table, the Prince Regent was glaring at her. She hastily placed her spoon upon the table, and as soon as it hit the linen, footmen stepped up and removed the bowls. Fustian! She had delayed the dinner service.
