Chapter Seven

Lying on her side, snuggled under her covers precariously close to the edge of the bed, Bronwyn waited for the sound of her mum padding down the hall to start the day. Her mum was always the first to wake and the last to bed. Most of the night, Bronwyn's mind was awhirl and sleep eluded her. Never having had a reason to become acquainted with any ladies of the ton, her knowledge of their customs was purely second hand and restricted to those within the Network who served in PORF households. The fashionable ladies would never deem her suitable to attend their afternoon teas.

Irritated with her train of thought, Bronwyn shifted. Her sister's knobby knee poked her in the middle of her back. What would it be like to sleep without three other warm bodies in the bed? She'd shared a bed with her sisters all her life. The thought of sleeping as titled ladies were reported to do, alone and vulnerable, sent shivers down Bronwyn's spine. Her husband would sleep behind a closed connecting door instead of next to her. How very remote. Her parents never slept apart even when her mum was irate at her dad. In less than a week, Lord Hadfield would be her husband. Not Landon Neale, the dashing barrister she once worked alongside, who caused her pulse to race as he rattled off case law, but an earl who secretly served the Crown. Bronwyn tugged the sheets up to her chin. Her mind continued to spin. Of all the women in London, why had Landon chosen her?

The chamber door softly creaked open. Barely opening her eyes, Bronwyn feigned sleep. Her mum snuck into the room with the most stunning traveling gown she had ever seen. Emma was indeed the most talented seamstress in town. Having never worn such elegant attire, Bronwyn clutched at the sheets. She wasn't ready. This wasn't the future she had envisioned.

Her mum leaned down and brushed back the hair from her face. "Love. It's time."

"I don't want to go. He's made a mistake in asking me."

"Hush. Lord Hadfield knows what he's about." Her mum placed a kiss upon her temple. "Your dad and I are very proud of ye."

She wasn't a youngling. She was five and twenty—plenty old enough not to need her ma's coddling. Bronwyn slipped her feet out of the covers onto the cold wood floor, padded over to the corner, and leaned over the washbasin. The cold water upon her face fortified her spirits. She had never failed to be a fully contributing member of her family or the Network, and she wasn't about to start.

Sally, her youngest sibling, scrambled from the bed. "Mum, can I go with Bronwyn and be her lady's maid?"

"Git back into bed. It's way too early for ye to be up. There are three qualified maids awaiting Bronwyn downstairs."

Bronwyn wiped her face with a clean linen. "Who's down below?"

"Little Tilman, young Carrington, and Willa Peyton. You must select one of them to accompany ye. They will travel along with Lord Hadfield's valet."

All of the girls her mum mentioned were close to Bronwyn in age. The glaring reality of the situation had her mind reeling. She could have been selected to apply for the position of lady's maid and bodyguard to Landon's wife. Instead, she was to be his wife. She wasn't any better than the three girls below. Was it pure happenstance?

Bronwyn considered her options. Tilman and Carrington's older sisters served Lady Grace and Lady Lucy. Both would have excellent insight into being a lady's maid. They would also easily identify Bronwyn's shortcomings and missteps. She didn't want her non-ladylike behavior shared with other households, plus Bronwyn considered Willa a friend. Willa was mature, trustworthy, and had a solid head upon her shoulders. It would also elevate Willa's family within the Network if she served the head PORF's wife.

With a decisive nod, Bronwyn said, "Willa is my choice."

Her mum's smile was that of pure pride. "I shall go fetch her now." Embracing Bronwyn in a quick hug, her mum added, "A fine decision, and the first of many to come."

***

An hour later, Bronwyn stepped out her front door to face her fiancé. Landon straightened away from the large, crested traveling coach but remained loose-limbed as he revealed bright white teeth and his irresistible dimple. The vehicle was impressive but not in comparison to the man standing next to it. Dressed in a dark blue waistcoat, pristine white lawn shirt, tan breeches, and a conservatively tied cravat, Landon was dashing, to say the least. The man was totally at ease and eager to begin their journey—the stark opposite of Bronwyn, who was a bundle of nerves and reservations.

Bronwyn curtsied. "I apologize for the delay, my lord."

"No need to apologize. Theo and my mama have me well trained in the art of waiting on a lady." The corner of his lips shifted, highlighting his roguish dimple. Sweeping a hand in the direction of the coach, he said, "I think it best if you call me Landon, don't you?"

Bronwyn stared at the charming, relaxed man before her. Who was he? She was accustomed to the no-nonsense, matter-of-fact Landon. Bronwyn inhaled sharply as the realization that her request to travel to Scotland, born from her desire to become better acquainted with her betrothed, placed her in extremely close quarters with the man whose smile turned her knees weak and elevated her body temperature to uncomfortable levels.

Landon entered the coach close behind her. It was physically impossible to feel the heat of him through the many layers of clothing she had donned this morn, but her cheeks were flushed, and her entire body was overheated. Bronwyn adjusted her skirts as she sat upon the plush, forward-facing seat. She inhaled sharply as she took in the well-padded bench across from her, the interior lights, and the fine material covering the windows. This was no hackney.

Landon searched her features as he settled onto the rear-facing seat. "Is anything the matter?"

"No. It's just Emma fashioned the traveling gown out of heavy velvet. I'm unaccustomed to such warmth."

"I can wait if you care to change. We have a long day of travel ahead of us. It's best you are comfortable."

"Oh, no. I promise I won't be bothersome."

Landon's brows snapped into a frown. "When I alter my decisions, do you find me bothersome?"

Without thinking, she replied, "Well, yes." She bent her head and shook it. "What I mean is…"

Affronted but curious, Landon said, "Yes?"

"It's our duty to serve you to the best of our capabilities, and when you change directions, it sometimes means people have wasted time and effort. We hate to disappoint you, or any of the other PORFs, for that matter."

"Do you fear you will disappoint me as a wife?"

Bronwyn twisted her hands, bunching her skirts in her lap. "Yes."

"Let me ask you this before I give the order to leave. Do you wish to marry me, or have you agreed out of duty?"

How was she to answer? She wasn't in love with him, nor did she expect him to be in love with her. While she had a strong physical attraction to the man, it hadn't been the reason she agreed to wed him.

Landon sighed. "That was unfair of me to ask." He drummed his fingers upon his knee. That habit indicated he was considering changing his mind.

A rush of anxiety rolled through her. "It is my wish."

"Why?"

"Beg pardon?"

Landon arched one eyebrow. "Why do you wish to marry me?"

Blast. He had caught her unprepared. She'd have to list the traits she was aware he possessed and hope it would be sufficient to appease his curiosity.

"You are intelligent, honorable, and steadfast." She clasped her hands in her lap and smiled up at him. "You take your responsibilities seriously and rule with fairness." It wasn't so hard to explain her admiration for him after all. "You care and protect your family with a fierceness that I find endearing."

A blush rose in his cheeks as she continued to rattle off compliments.

"I suppose marriages have been founded on less." He lifted his heel and stamped three times. The carriage rocked forward as the horses were set into motion.

Did she dare ask the same question of him? She wasn't certain she wanted to know the answer, so she'd wait for another opportunity to ask.

Landon turned to look out the carriage window, and she did likewise. Streaks of sunlight glinted off shop windows as they rolled onto the main thoroughfare.

"Do you not fear I will be an embarrassment to you amongst the ton?"

"Pfft. I care nothing for the opinion of the ton." He continued to stare out the window. "Mama, Theo, and Christopher all agree—I've made a sage decision."

"I've not met either your mama or Lady Theo."

"Apparently, my brother has supplied my mama with enough details that she believes in her heart that you are perfect for me. Theo has her own sources and is extremely excited for our return and to make your acquaintance." Landon chuckled and then turned to face her. "Some might say she ordered me to present you to her posthaste. Which I'll happily do as soon as we are in accord."

"Are we in disaccord, my lord?"

"Aye, as you aren't comfortable yet calling me by my Christian name. But I hope to rectify the situation by the time we arrive in Gretna Green."

Oh, how she wished she'd managed to sleep the night prior. Landon had a sharp mind and was a master at disarming his witnesses. She'd need to keep her guard up and wits about her at all times.