Page 47 of Tempting a Gentleman
Donning his coat, Weathersbee said, “Best wishes for your meeting this eve, Mr. Neale.”
Landon, who had remained mute for most of their afternoon discussions, said, “Will you be attending Hereford’s soiree tonight, Weathersbee?”
“Yes. I had planned on attending for a spell. At least long enough to garner any information that might assist us in Millard’s case.” Without waiting for a response, Weathersbee slid the last button into place and, with a curt nod, left Christopher’s office.
Landon stood and moved to the window as Weathersbee walked out. His brother carefully shifted the drapes to the side. “I suspect the old man’s motivations for attending this evening’s entertainment is not solely linked to our case.”
Christopher glanced up from the case file he’d opened. “What other reason could there be?”
“Did you know…Weathersbee’s papa’s estate was but a few miles away from our grandfather’s?”
Rolling his head to one side, Christopher kneaded his strained neck muscles. “What are you implying?” Landon was always suspicious of others’ motivations, but his distrust had multiplied upon claiming his position as Head PORF.
“Mama was renowned for her beauty before Grandfather disowned her for marrying Papa.” Landon’s breath fogged the window. He cleared the glass pane with his sleeve and intently peered out again.
“And what does that have to do with Weathersbee?”
“Hmph.” Landon let the curtain fall back into place and returned to his seat in front of Christopher. “I’m not sure, but the man’s gaze lingers on Mama a moment too long for my liking.”
What would it matter to Landon if Weathersbee was interested in their mama? A spark of ire at his brother’s meddling spurred Christopher to ask, “Are you opposed to the idea of Mama finding love and remarrying?”
“You know I’m not. But Weathersbee? He’s younger than Mama.”
Christopher chuckled at Landon’s appalled expression. “Brother, you are a stick in the mud. Mama is quite capable of taking care of herself. Now, promise to leave matters alone.”
“I promised not to interfere with Weathersbee running the firm. I will not make the same promise regarding Mama.” Landon shook his head and glared at Christopher.
Christopher was in no mood to debate the issue with his brother. “I’ll leave it up to Mama to sort you out. I have many matters of my own to rectify.”
“Like speaking to your betrothed about whatever issue has caused you to stay away from her for…well, too many days in my mind.”
Irritated, Christopher barked, “Unless you have any wisdom to impart, I suggest you leave.”
“Having married a former Network member myself, I shall impart my hard-won knowledge. The Network raises its girls to be strong and brave, but that doesn’t mean they do not possess fears. I’m certain Emma shares the same concerns as you about the mission. My recommendation is you find a way to face them together.” His brother unwound his long form and stood. “I shall keep an eye on Weathersbee since I presume you will be otherwise occupied this eve.”
Christopher waved his brother off and returned to stare at the pages before him. He had let his fear of rejection rule him for days, preventing him from seeing the woman he loved. It was possible Emma, regardless if she loved him or not, would let her worries about leaving her family prevent her from agreeing to accompany him.
He would miss the birth of Landon and Bronwyn’s firstborn. Drumming his fingers upon his desk, he waited for more depressing thoughts to come. Instead, images of Emma, pregnant and smiling, filled his mind. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and fingered the posy ring that had remained close to his heart. The ring should be settled upon Emma’s finger. He’d rectify that tonight.
Reordering the files on his desk into alphabetical order, the question of what had kept Emma preoccupied for days kept poking at his mind. Rather than hypothesizing, he needed to go to her. The last folder remaining was the one that contained the carefully crafted list of Network members that he and Landon had selected to relocate to the New World. Christopher opened the file and examined the list once more. The decision upon which members to send to America had taken an extraordinary amount of time and a fair amount of consideration. Families would be disbanded, and several critical positions within PORF households would have to be filled. The long days and nights working alongside Landon were poignant reminders of how things used to be before Landon inherited the earldom. It also reinforced how much Christopher would miss his older brother’s sound guidance.
The flicker of the candle reminded Christopher to check his pocket watch. Half-past eight—later than he had planned to leave, but Emma should still be awake. Raising his arms above his head, he stretched out his tired, sore back and then lowered his arms to roll his aching shoulders. The thought of seeing Emma refueled his lagging body. He grabbed the list of Network members, folded it precisely into quarters, and placed it alongside Emma’s posy ring. Christopher’s stomach growled. He would head home and have Cook prepare a picnic basket. Emma had a tendency to skip meals too. He smiled at the idea of sharing a repast with her again. He’d made it two blocks from the offices before a footman emerged from the shadows and began to follow him unusually close.
Swiveling to confront the guard, Christopher asked, “What is the matter?”
Simon replied, “Nuffin, sir. Miss Lennox asked that we made sure ye made it safe back to her shop, is all.”
“Very well. We will make a quick detour to my townhouse to pick up some food, and then we can be on our way.”
Grinning like a fool, Simon revealed a picnic basket from behind his back. “Already done, sir.”
Damnation, he’d had the notion mere moments ago; the Network could not have known his wishes. No, but they had anticipated them—meddling fools. But Christopher had to admit, in this instance, it was a good thing. Sometimes good intentions do result in favorable outcomes. It didn’t make him sympathetic to their interfering ways, but he did appreciate their concern.
Striding across town, Christopher’s nerves finally settled enough that he no longer felt nausea at the idea of asking Emma to leave her shop, family, and friends behind in return for an undefined future with him. Christopher mounted the steps to Emma’s front door, resolved to obtain her answer. He took the food from Simon, who was still grinning, and pushed forward into Emma’s shop. The bell tinkled overhead as the door swooshed open. Christopher scanned the shop. “Emma?”
“I’ll be rit with ye.” Emma's steady voice came from above.
“Has your dad arrived for the eve?”
