Tempting a Gentleman by Smith, Ann (bearly read books .txt) 📕

“He’s young. He has time yet.”

Aunt Henri let out an unladylike snort. “Not according to Landon. He’s advised his brother to find a wife by the end of the season, or he will choose one for him.”

Tugging her hand free, Emma asked, “How is it that the Network doesn’t know of this edict?”

“Ha. Such a bold question. You would have to become a PORF in order for me to answer. I trust I’ve not misjudged in confiding in you. You won’t share this information, will you?”

“Aunt Henri, yer a sly fox.”

The woman winked at her. Continuing her bold actions, Aunt Henri did the unthinkable—she pushed open the door and then Emma out of the carriage.

Emma whirled around before the coach door closed. “Will I see ye later?”

“I don’t think so, child. I believe I’ve given you enough to ponder. I’ll leave you in Theo’s capable hands.”

Chapter Eight

Bleary-eyed, Emma ran a finger over the row of stitches that she somehow managed to sew. After another night of restless sleep, she rose and, by candlelight, began to sew, whittling down the mound of work that had amassed due to her lack of concentration over the past two days.

The first streaks of light began to filter through her clean shop windows, followed by the tinkle of the overhead bell. Theo had finally arrived.

Theo was one of the stealthiest of the PORFs. Only her husband rivaled her skill in entering a room undetected. “Good gracious, I’ve never seen so many gowns in their various states.” Theo’s sweet authoritative voice just beyond the curtain gave away the woman’s position in the room.

Bronwyn’s soft footsteps meant she too was close by. “No doubt Emma will say it’s my fault.”

Emma pushed back the curtain, separating the receiving room from the back. “It is yer bloomin’ fault. Ye invited too many guests, and I’ve even had to turn away some clients, for the first time, and I’m not at all happy about it.”

“Denying a client or two will only make your dresses more desirable.” Theo twirled to face Emma and rushed to her side. “Whatever is the matter? You look dreadful.”

“Nothing is the matter. I’ve not slept much, is all.”

Bronwyn came over and felt her forehead. “No fever. Do you want me to summon more help for you?”

Emma huffed. “I don’t need ye meddling in my business. It’s the silly dance lessons that are taking up too much of me time.”

Bronwyn, wide-eyed, replied, “But Christopher said last night’s lesson went splendid.”

“According to my sources, you have concerns regarding the ball that you wish to discuss with me.” Theo stepped up onto the platform and rubbed her rounded belly. “What do you wish to ask?”

“Christopher prompted me to consider the possibility of others noticing and making mention of my lineage. Perhaps my attendance will harm the success of Bronwyn’s first ball.”

“He has a point. It might be rather awkward for you.”

“I don’t care about me. I’m worried about Bronwyn.”

“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. Aunt makes 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