Page 46 of Revealing a Rogue
Chapter Twenty-Two
Asilver button flew through the air and hit Bronwyn on the top of her shoulder.
“Ow.” She rubbed her upper arm and glared at her best friend. Emma’s dart-throwing skills meant she was extremely accurate and never missed her intended target. The metal button would leave a mark. Typical Emma. Her friend lived by the adageactions speak louder than words. Bronwyn sighed. Emma was right. It was time for Bronwyn to seek out her dad and receive the mark of a PORF.
“Will ye stop yer day dreamin’ and help me out.” Emma huffed, and a bolt of shimmering silver material landed on the cutting table before Bronwyn.
Bronwyn winced as she stretched out her arm to reach for the edge of the material. She had arrived back in town three days ago. Her first day back, Emma allowed her to remain abed and weep. But on the second, before the first rays of light hit the ground, Emma had hauled Bronwyn out of bed and set her to work sorting buttons. It had taken three hours of monotonous labor and soul searching for Bronwyn to admit she didn’t want an annulment. At a loss for what action to take next, Bronwyn had spent the rest of the day performing whatever mindless task Emma set for her.
Bronwyn unwound the material and aligned it against the yardstick. “What will you make out of this?”
“A gown, ye goose.” Emma stood back with the shears in her hand. “Wot are ye goin’ to do?”
“As soon as you’ve cut the silk loose, I’ll pin the pattern.”
“I’m not talkin’ about the blasted gown.” Emma shook her head. “Did gettin’ hitched make ye daft?”
Glaring at her best friend, Bronwyn retorted, “Who ye callin’ daft?” She was clearly at her wit's end, for her brash cockney accent had returned. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts and said, “You don’t understand. Landon needs…”
“Bronwyn Cadby Neale.” Emma snipped a slit into the material. “Ye can just stop yer blathering right now.” The sharp blades snapped together, punctuating Emma’s statement. “It’s been three days, and ye have yet to come to ye senses.” She ran the sharp shears down the material, slicing it away from the bolt. “I’ll tell ye, I’ve considered knocking ye over the head with the chamber pot a time or two, to see if it’ll help. But I think it better I use me words this time.” Emma stuck her shears into her apron and put her hands on her hips. “Me best friend is no coward. This time tell me the truth—why did ye leave Lord Archbroke’s estate in the middle of supper?”
Bronwyn blinked. She’d never mentioned to Emma the details of her departure. The blasted Network rumor mill was far too efficient. Grabbing the pattern that laid next to the table, she began pinning the translucent paper to the glorious silver silk. She wasn’t ready to admit the truth: she had run away like a peagoose.
Emma crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “If ye won’t tell me, I’ll tell ye wot I think.”
Bronwyn pricked her finger as she mumbled, “I’m sure nothing will stop you either.”
“Ye are bleedin’, step away from me gown afore you ruin it.” Emma rounded the table and, with her hip bumped Bronwyn out of the way. “Ye’ve never been good at needlepoint, but ye are smart, hardworking, and generous. And I’ll tell ye, that’s wot Lord Hadfield needs.” Spinning the material around to affix the pattern to the other side, Emma paused and then added, “Wot do ye see in the mirror when ye look into one?”
Finally, a question Bronwyn was able to answer. “A woman with mouse brown hair, blue eyes, and of average looks.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s not wot I see when I look at ye.”
“Oh, really. Don’t let me stop you. Pray tell,what do you see,Ms. Lennox?” The devil in Bronwyn spurred her to address her best friend by her formal name, knowing that Emma hated it.
“I see Countess Hadfield.”
Touché. No one but Emma could get the best of Bronwyn.
Bronwyn conceded. “I’m not like the ladies Landon considers worthy to call close friends. Theo is brilliant, Mary is unique, and Lady Lucy, well, all the blasted rumors of how delightful and daring she is are all well and true.” She leaned against the table and continued, “I’ll tell you who Iusedto see in the looking glass. A Network elder’s daughter, who wanted only to prove to everyone that she was worthy to succeed her dad and hold a seat at the council table.”
“Ye were always too smart for ye own good.” Placing the lid on the pins, Emma tugged Bronwyn over to the sitting area and plopped onto the settee. “Ye don’t think I too worry about the day I’m to take me mum’s place? That I don’t wonder if I’m worthy of sittin’ at the council table. I’m not smart like ye. I’m a darn seamstress. How do I know wot is best for the Network? But it is a great honor to represent one’s family, and I’ll muddle along. At least I’ll have ye there next to me. Wait, if ye are a PORF, will ye still be on the council? Oh Gawd, don’t say Harold will be sittin’ next to me instead.”
Bronwyn couldn’t contain her laughter at Emma’s appalled expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll be by your side at the council table—not representing the Cadby family but as a PORF.” Wrapping her arms about her best friend, Bronwyn said, “You are too clever by half, and you don’t even know it, Emma Lennox. I’ve been overthinking the matter. My heart belongs to one man, and I’m honored to be his wife. As for the rest, I’ll follow your lead and simply muddle through it all. And as long as I have your aid and support, all will be well.”
“Ye’re daft to ask. I support ye, not because I pledged an oath, but because ye are the most amazing lady I know.”
Bronwyn smiled and arched a brow. “Really? What of Theo or Mary or Lady Lucy or Lady Grace?”
With a pointed look, Emma replied, “I’ve seen all of them naked, inside and out. None of them are as perfect as ye believe them to be.” Emma tilted her head and grinned. “Hmm… I reckon they are more like ye than me, tough on the outside but pure mush on the inside.”
“And what are you?” Bronwyn teased.
“Aww… ye know, I’m hard on the outside and in. I’ve no time for love, which is wot turned all of ye ladies to mush.”
“Emma Lennox, you’re brilliant!”
Love had been Bronwyn’s downfall. Not her love for Landon, but her lack of respect and care for herself. She needed to be the best person she could be, not what she thought others required her to be. Squeezing Emma’s hand, Bronwyn said, “You know, the next time I see my reflection in a looking glass, I’ll be seeing an entirely different person.”
