Chapter Three

The tinkle of the bell above her head announced Bronwyn's arrival at her dad's store. Her nose crinkled at the scent of dried, slightly moldy tobacco leaves. Working in the Neales' law offices, where snuff and cigars were frowned upon, had given her a respite from the pungent smell.

Harold, her brother, glanced up from a perfectly balanced scale. "Watcha doin' walking in through the front?"

Bronwyn turned to face the door. Blimey, what was she thinking? Lost in practicing the speech she was to deliver to her parents, she had waltzed right into the store through the street entrance instead of the back door used by Network members and family.

Anxious to be done with the deed of informing her parents of Landon's preposterous idea to marry, she ignored her brother and walked through the store to the back. She raised a hand to push back the curtain to enter the small room where her dad kept the store's records, when Harold yelled, "He's upstairs."

Bronwyn froze. Upstairs held her dad's private office, where he conducted official Network affairs. Blood drained from her face. Had her dad already heard? With a fortifying breath, she marched around crates and boxes to the staircase that led up to her dad's office.

Skipping over the fifth step that creaked, Bronwyn crept her way up. On the landing, she paused and took inventory. Chin up. Straight back. Shoulders squared. Ready. Confronting her dad with the news was far worse than facing the guillotine.

As she neared the door, a familiar male voice boomed through the walls. "It's been near on six months since his return from the Continent. He can't continue to dally. He needs a bloody heir." Mr. Rutherford, a Network elder, was clearly agitated. She had no illusions about which he Rutherford was referring to—Landon. She crept closer to the door.

"Lady Archbroke suspects he's already decided upon someone." Her dad's sigh matched Rutherford's frustrated tone. "Our Lady Theo promises to alert us as soon as she can."

"But we need time to install the right staff to ensure the lady is worthy of holding such a position amongst us, and that is merely the preliminary work to be done."

Her stomach clenched. Everyone was expecting Landon to propose to a lady. She didn't know the first thing about being the wife of a titled gentleman, let alone a PORF.

"I'm fully aware of what has to be done. There is still time. Lord Hadfield will have to properly court the lady, which will allow us to have everything in place before the wedding." Her dad's voice faded and strengthened as he spoke. He must be pacing. He never paced unless he was upset.

"Bronwyn Cadby!" Her mum's harsh whisper scared her straight.

Swiveling to face her mum, Bronwyn murmured, "I was…"

"I know exactly what ye were doin'. I raised ye to know better."

Bronwyn bowed her head and replied, "Yes, Mum."

"Harold came and got me. Said ye were behavin' strange." Her mum pressed the back of her hand to Bronwyn's forehead. "Ye're not sick, are ye?"

"No, Mum. But I must speak with Dad." Bronwyn held her breath as she waited.

Stepping around Bronwyn, her mum rapped on the door.

"Enter."

Following close on her mum's heels, like she had as a child when summoned by her dad, Bronwyn marched resolutely in her mum's shadow.

"Rutherford, please excuse the interruption, but I must speak with my husband." When Rutherford remained seated, her mum added, "Alone."

Rutherford stood and donned his hat and coat. "Think upon it, Cadby. I'll be eagerly awaiting your call to convene." He tipped his hat as he passed them to leave.

As soon as the latch fell into place, her mum tugged Bronwyn to her side. "Well, git on with it. Speak."

Her dad turned from the window, and his knowing gaze fell upon her. He couldn't possibly know what news she bore, yet he always seemed to anticipate what she was about to say. Wringing her hands behind her, Bronwyn said, "Lord Hadfield paid me a visit today."

Neither parent responded. Their features completely blank as they waited for her to continue. The speech Bronwyn had prepared deserted her mind. Instead, she blurted, "His lordship has asked me to marry him." As she expected, her mum gave her a broad smile, and her dad's features darkened with a fierce scowl.

Her dad stomped over to his chair behind the desk and sat. "He's already procured the special license. You will wed as soon as I give him my blessing." He picked up a news sheet and read.

She was not the fainting type, but a lack of air and the twinkling stars before her eyes had Bronwyn clutching the edge of the desk and inhaling deeply. She'd predicted her dad wouldn't deny a request by a PORF, but she hadn't even managed to share her plan, and her dad was already done with the topic.

Her mum rubbed soothing circles upon her back. "All will be well. No time to dawdle; we must get you ready."

No. Landon was to marry a lady, not her. Of all people, her parents should know this. Taking in a deep breath, Bronwyn straightened and faced her mum. "Lord Hadfield is making a mistake by offering for me. It is a tradition that a PORF marry one of their own."

The snap of the paper being straightened brought her focus back to her dad. "He is risking too much! He'll expose the Network if he marries me. Marrying a commoner will raise suspicions. Consider the possibility of all our secrets being exposed if someone takes an interest and digs into my background. It's not how things work. He'll disrupt the balance."

She heaved in another breath, but before Bronwyn could continue, her dad said, "I'll not hear another word. You will marry Lord Hadfield."

Fustian!

If her dad would not hear her pleas, she'd wait until she had her mum alone. She let her mum guide her from her dad's office. As soon as they'd walked down the hall to the connecting door that led to the family's living quarters, Bronwyn placed a hand on her mum's arm. "You have to make Dad understand."

Her mum led her into the kitchen and placed a kettle in the fire.

Bronwyn needed her mum to comprehend her plight. Her mum was her last hope, the only person capable of convincing her dad to put a stop to this madness. "I'm not the right woman for Lord Hadfield. I'll bring shame upon him. I've no idea how to behave like a lady. He needs someone who can host balls and house parties, run multiple households, and forge alliances amongst the ladies of the ton." Bronwyn paused and went to the cabinet to get the teacups. "I know naught of those things, and I've nothing in common with the duchesses, marchionesses, and countesses his wife would need to befriend in order to assist with PORF affairs." She plopped down on the bench as her mum calmly reached for a cloth, and then the boiling kettle.

Pouring steaming water into the well worn tea pot, her mum said, "Lord Hadfield has had the special license in his possession for over a month now. As head PORF, his actions and directives have been rather…deliberate. I'm sure he gave the decision to marry and to whom much thought." She set the kettle down. Placing her warm hand beneath Bronwyn's chin, her mum tilted Bronwyn's head up and met her eyes. "He was wise to choose you."

Bronwyn poured the barely steeped tea into their cups. Her mum sipped tea, eyeing her with one eyebrow cocked. It was as if her mum was challenging her to find a counter-argument. But her mind had wandered after the revelation that Landon had held on to the special license for a month.

Bronwyn tapped her finger against her teacup as she contemplated a plan that would allow them both time to be sure marriage was the best solution.

Her mum stood up, winked, and took Bronwyn's cup from her hands. "Child, you are smart and brave. I'm extremely proud of you, and I know you will not shame our family."

Whatever plan she devised, she'd ensure it would not end in disgrace.