Page 45 of Tempting a Gentleman
Further along, headed towards them on the opposite side of the path, Christopher spied their target. Markinson rode alongside a carriage that conveyed his two sisters, both a decade younger than himself. The girls were wide-eyed and tittering behind their hands. Had it already been a year since Markinson’s mama died? It was clear as day to Christopher the reasons behind Markinson’s reform. He wanted his sisters to marry well. Thoughts of marriage had images of Emma floating before him. Oblivious to the passing crowd, Christopher’s thoughts were on the woman he wished was riding next to him. His mount slowed, matching his brother's pace.
Landon nodded. “Hereford. Lady Arabelle. You are a vision this fine afternoon.”
“Lord Hadfield. Mr. Neale, how lovely to see you both out today.” Arabelle had greeted them both, but her gaze was focused upon Christopher.
Christopher looked past Lady Arabelle to find Markinson glaring at them. He didn’t blame the man for being irritated—holding up traffic was extremely annoying.
Nodding to Arabelle’s brother, Christopher said, “Hereford.”
Turning to smile at Arabelle, Christopher caught the heightened coloring in Markinson’s cheeks. The man wasn’t angry at being delayed. No, the blaze in the man’s eyes was a sign of jealousy. Christopher chuckled. Both he and Arabelle had been disappointed that their well-timed discreet kisses to raise Markinson’s ire a year ago had failed to prompt the man into action. It appeared he might have had a change of heart recently. Guilt clogged Christopher’s throat. He was a damn hypocrite. He had interjected himself and played a part in trying to bring another man up to snuff—interfering, like a meddlesome marriage-minded mama, in another man’s life. No one should be manipulated into making life-altering decisions.
Landon must have seen his discomfort and said, “Lady Arabelle, how observant of you. It’s terribly hard to convince Christopher to leave the office these days.”
The woman finally withdrew her gaze from Christopher, but her features were marred by a slight frown. “I’m looking forward to finally meeting Countess Hadfield. I shall see youbothat the Hadfield ball?”
His brother’s smile brightened. “Of course. I wouldn’t dare upset my dear wife.”
Landon gave Christopher a sharp look. There was an underlying message, but at present, Christopher was keeping a close eye on Markinson, who grew more irate by the moment.
With a curt nod, Christopher said, “A good day to you both. Hereford. Lady Arabelle.” Urging his mount forward once again, Christopher avoided Markinson’s angry glare as they passed by seconds later.
Chuckling, Landon slapped Christopher on the shoulder. “My thanks, brother. I have all the intel I sought. Let’s return to my townhouse for a glass of brandy, shall we?”
He shook his head. “Not unless you are planning on providing me with your consent to travel abroad.”
“Let’s not discuss this here. Perhaps in my library would be preferable.”
“Brother, there is nothing to deliberate. It is either a yes or a no.” Christopher had never spoken to Landon in such a curt manner. He didn’t have time to debate the issue. If Landon would not give his endorsement, he’d speak to the patriarch of the other PORF family, Theo’s husband, Lord Archbroke, and gain his backing.
“Don’t bother thinking about approaching Archbroke. I’m Head PORF, not he.”
Blast. Christopher hated that Landon knew him so well. “There is much to do, so please give me your answer.”
Landon sighed. “Answer me this first. Do you plan on returning?”
“If Emma refuses to accompany me, then yes, without a doubt. If she changes her mind and allows me to take her on an adventure, I can make no guarantees.”
“You would go without Emma?” Landon’s horse whinnied and moved off the path. His brother’s thighs must have twitched at his outburst.
Christopher maneuvered his mount around to rejoin Landon. “I don’t wish to, but I will not force her to come along.”
Landon stared at him as if he didn’t recognize who he was. Christopher waited. Unlike others, Landon was not intimidated by silence. After the count of forty-five, Landon urged his mount towards Christopher.
Embracing Christopher in an awkward hug, Landon whispered, “You have my blessing and best wishes, little brother.”
Christopher beamed, and the sun shone a little brighter through the clouds. The uncertain future that had weighed on his shoulders all day was no longer a burden but a ray of hope. If Emma saw the future in the same light, then all would be well. But what if she didn’t?
Chapter Twenty-One
Apea whizzed past Emma and miraculously landed inside her little brother’s wide-open mouth. Thomas’s broad grin had Emma laughing. She hadn’t felt much like smiling since leaving the Hadfield townhouse. Sarah and Maude had shooed her from the shop after Emma had accidentally pinned the wrong pattern to a fine cream-colored silk. Thankfully she hadn’t taken her shears to the material before Maude had caught the mistake. Distracted by thoughts of Christopher and his plans to leave England, she had wandered about the penny street markets until she found herself in front of her parents’ house.
Thomas swallowed the hearty bite of bread he’d managed to stuff in his small mouth. “Em, are ye goin’ to eat yer cheese?”
Emma picked up a slice of her brother’s favorite cheese from her full plate and handed it to him. Her mum shook her head but grinned at the same time. Emma scanned the other smiling faces about the table. Her whole family was happy. She was to marry in a few weeks and a little in awe that she was to become a PORF. Her sisters had badgered her to bring Christopher home to meet them until her mum told them her betrothed had already promised to join them for supper every Wednesday. Her mum failed to mention it was only until he departed for the New World, but Emma understood there was no need to dampen their spirits.
The sisters rose and collected the empty food platters while her brothers gathered the dishes. Her mum placed a hand on Emma’s arm. “Let yer sisters and brothers take care of cleaning up. Yer dad and me want to have a chat with ye. In the parlor.”
Emma rose and followed her mum into the cozy room, a quarter of the size of Bronwyn’s drawing room. Her dad was adding logs to the fire when they entered. Emma was anxious to see if he’d be smiling or frowning when he finally turned around to greet them. Her heart sank when her dad’s lips were drawn tight, and his usual broad smile was missing.
