Page 34 of Revealing a Rogue
Head tilted, Bronwyn asked, “Are you sure my dad accepted the invitation?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’d not count on my dad agreeing to leave London to attend such an event.” She shook her head and padded over to a fallen pillow.
“But you’re his daughter…” The pillow hit him square in the chest.
Hands on her hips, Bronwyn said, “My dad is proud of me; of that I have no doubt. He fully supported the decision for us to marry, but he will not change his ways and hobnob with your lot.”
“My lot?” His papa was a second son; the likelihood of him inheriting the Hadfield title had been a distant possibility until Theo’s brother died four years past without having married or sired an heir. Who the bloody hell did she consider his lot? It certainly wasn’t the lords who lounged about White’s all day.
Bronwyn sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. “My dad is a tradesman and a loyal PORF supporter. He has sworn to protect and serve. He’ll not elevate himself above what he deems his appointed position.” His wife’s voice resolute. “Once my dad places the mark upon me, he’ll no longer view me as his daughter but as a PORF.” Bronwyn touched the harp upon her bracelet and blinked back tears.
Landon reached out for her and she padded closer to the bed.
Holding Bronwyn’s hand, he said, “When I asked you to marry me, I didn’t know of your ties to the Network. And since then, I’ve failed to take into consideration the full ramifications of our union.” He raised their joined hands and kissed the back of her hand. “I acted selfishly. I let my love for you blind me.”
Her mouth fell wide open. “Did yousayyou love me?”
How could she not know the depth of his feelings for her? Her dubious expression confirmed his failure to show Bronwyn how he felt. His breath caught in his throat, but he managed to eke out, “I did.” He wanted Bronwyn to return the sentiment, but she stood blinking as if his confession of love was the most befuddling thing she’d ever heard.
There was a scratch at the door, followed by Peyton’s harried voice. “Bronwyn. Blast it. I mean, my lady. Lady Mary is waiting in the morning room.”
They couldn’t dally any longer. “You’d best go get ready.” Landon kissed his dazed wife. “As soon as I’m decent, I’ll let your maid in to assist.” He turned Bronwyn by the shoulders and gave her rear a pat.
She took three steps forward before she swiveled back around and said, “I…I don’t…”
He couldn’t bear to hear the truth. Bronwyn didn’t love him. Landon interrupted his wife and said, “Mary hates to be kept waiting.”
A deep frown replaced Bronwyn’s confused features. Turning on her heel, Bronwyn strode to the connecting chamber without another word. Landon leaped from the bed and hastily donned his breeches and shirt.
Damnation.
He was no coward. He’d hear the truth now. Striding to the door, he opened it to reveal an overwrought Peyton wringing her hands.
Taking pity on the poor maid, he said, “Please inform Lady Mary that your mistress will be along shortly.” The maid bobbed and then rushed down the hall.
Landon leaned against the closed door and counted to thirty.
Always loved by those close to him, he had misconstrued Bronwyn’s enthusiastic responses to him as affection. The barrister in him needed to gain all the facts in order to determine how to move forward. If she didn’t care for him, he’d be patient. Perhaps over time, she could learn to love him. He pushed off the door and stood up straight. Taking a deep breath, he fortified himself for the worst. His sluggish feet dragged to the connecting changing chamber.
Chapter Sixteen
Bronwyn stood in the center of the changing chamber, hands clenched at her side, repeating the wordsInhale, Exhale.He must think her a simpleton, standing next to him gaping like a fool. Every night he mumbled his love for her in his sleep, and she practiced her own admission. Only hours before, she had easily managed a confession of her love. She’d been rattled at having revealed her deep fear of being distanced from everything and everyone she knew, but that was no excuse for her idiotic behavior. Landon had whittled away her defenses. Her fear of appearing weak or ignorant had dissipated.
The colors of her dresses and gowns became a blur in front of her. Tears threatened to spill as she reached for her favorite sky-blue day dress. Thank goodness she was alone. Eyes closed, she inhaled and froze.
“Will you allow me the pleasure of assisting you?”
Landon’s deep voice reverberated through her body. She swiveled to face her husband, who stood on the threshold with his arms loosely crossed. His musky, woodsy smell radiated throughout the small space. His words were spoken casually but there was nothing blithe about the way his stare penetrated her.
She nodded. When he was an arm’s length away, she searched for a glimpse of his dimple. It was missing. She swallowed the knot of apprehension that had lodged in her throat and blurted, “Did you know I fancied you back when you were a barrister?”
“I hadn’t a clue.” Landon uncrossed his arms.
Clutching her hands together in front of her, Bronwyn said, “Remember the day you proposed, and you told me that I had remained in your thoughts?”
Landon took a step closer and settled his warm hands on her hips. “Aye, I recall that day vividly.”
