Page 17 of Tempting a Gentleman
“I’m sorry; you never seemed to care who knew of your bloodline.” Bronwyn clutched her hands. “Forgive me for asking this of you.”
“Ye know I don’t give a farthin’ wot the ton or others fink of me, so ye don’t need to be apologizin’.”
Theo spoke up. “Your lack of care hasn’t resulted in harm to date due to the fact you’ve been able to remain in the shadows…and Hereford has respected your decision. But Lady Arabelle has not been as covert as her brother, claiming she will only wear gowns designed by her reclusive aunt and sewn exclusively by your shop.”
“Eek.Auntmakes me sound ancient.”
Bronwyn said, “You’re only four years her senior.”
“That’s not the point,” Theo said. “Lord Hereford and Lady Arabelle have been without parental guidance for many years. Neither adheres to the strict parameters the ton expects. The fact is, your niece is proud of you, and if you appear, Lady Arabelle will no doubt claim you as family, and you will no longer be able to remain in the shadows. It is your choice, but once you come out of hiding, there is no going back. You will obviously have the support of your most loyal clientele, and of course, you will have our full support. But it is a life-changing decision. You should consider it very carefully.”
Emma turned to Bronwyn; best friend or not, she was sworn to abide by the woman’s wishes. “What do you wish for me to do?”
“I want what is best for you and your future. When I selfishly asked, I secretly wished you would meet and fall in love with one of the gentlemen at the ball, and you could join me in the endless rounds of tea and terrible biscuits.”
“What would ye know of days of tea and biscuits? Ye spend yer days at Neale & Sons with Christopher.”
Bronwyn and Theo’s eyes widened at her use of Christopher’s first name. Bronwyn said, “You sound jealous.”
“Ye two are PORFs. Ye are supposed to tell me wot you wish, and I shall obey, not tell me to do whatever I wish. It’s not the way of things.”
“It will be going forward. Landon wishes for a more collaborative relationship between PORFs and the Network, and Theo fully supports her cousin.”
Emma busied herself, pinning another panel to Theo’s expanding waistline. The two PORFs discussed Landon’s plans—plans to change the way things had been done for generations. But Emma liked the way things were. They were definitely not perfect, but she knew her place. For decades, the distinction between PORFs and Network members had worked, even if it was dysfunctional. Emma detested change.
As Bronwyn and Theo prepared to leave, Bronwyn said, “If you decide not to come, I fully support your decision. If you decide to come, it will be an honor to have you stand next to me. Either way, you’ll not be rid of me as your best friend.” She wrapped Emma in a hug, and when she pulled back, she tugged on a loose tendril of hair like they used to as girls. It was a reminder of how close they had been, and even after Bronwyn’s station changed, her best friend still treated her the same.
Theo embraced her next. “I, too, fully support your decision whatever you choose.”
They left. Emma turned the sign in the window to closed and sank to the settee. How was she to decide what was best?
Chapter Nine
Christopher’s heart sank as he closed and locked the door behind the last employee to leave. Returning to his office, usually a refuge from his confounding personal life, Christopher slumped into his chair, hands cradling the back of his head. The stack of files awaiting his attention remained piled high. With no word from Emma, he lacked the concentration to study the necessary case law to ensure his clients victory in the courtroom. He missed reviewing the complex trade agreements that had, in recent years, extended to transatlantic dealings. Drafting and negotiating multifaceted terms for British importers provided him an outlet for his legal skills but also harnessed his talent to foresee the other party’s intent and next move. Theo shared his abilities and was lucky enough to have found an outlet to fully utilize her skills as wife to the Home Secretary.
Leaning forward, he snatched up his quill and reached for a clean piece of parchment. He should have pressed Bronwyn for answers. But he wanted to hear from Emma.
He dipped the tip of the quill into the ink well, and an unnerving sensation of doom settled into his chest. The nib scratched against the parchment. For years, his ability to recreate a person’s likeness had been stifled, but the lines on the page were flowing through him with ease. An outline Emma’s now familiar profile and supple body was coming to life. Damnation. Of all the people of his acquaintance, his sister-in-law’s brash friend had to be the one to become his muse.
Lady Arabelle had pricked his interest in music, but Emma had ignited his desire to draw and compose. From an early age, his appreciation for the human form meant his gaze was drawn to beautiful women. He was no saint, and he freely admitted to having shared a bed with a charming lady or two who had managed to catch his attention over the years. But not only did Emma capture his attention, she had seized his every thought and was slowly seeping into his heart. He caught himself humming as he finished the drawing.
Emma’s beguiling image stared back at him. This was no mere infatuation with a pretty face and lush body. No, Emma evoked a primal need within him to explore and possess her. Damnation, it was more. He didn’t want to simply possess her. He wanted her to want him in return. Hoped that she too experienced this magnetism that grew each day. But with each passing moment without a word from Emma, his hope dwindled. He rubbed his weary eyes. The candle had burned down to barely a nub. He pulled out his pocket watch, and the blasted timepiece confirmed it was nearly one in the morn. He should seek out his bed instead of waiting for Emma to magically appear. A shiver of fear tickled the back of his neck. Emma was a woman of her word. He should have heard from her by now. Something was amiss. He bolted for the door, grabbing his hat and coat on his way out.
Christopher nearly ran right into his brother, who was mounting the stairs. “Where are you headed?”
“To see Emma.”
“Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Landon walked past, leaving Christopher to follow.
“Is all well?” Christopher asked as they entered his office and relit the candle on his desk. “Why are you out and about at this hour?”
Landon moved to pull back the curtain to allow the moonlight into the dim room. Rummaging through his desk drawer, Christopher retrieved two candles and lit those as well, revealing Landon’s concerned face.
Landon said, “I invited Emma to dine with us this eve.”
“You mean you ordered her.”
