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

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.

Her mum gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made her dad smile. Her dad’s eyes twinkled at the loving gesture. She had seen a similar twinkle in Christopher’s gaze when he held her close.

Sinking to the floor, Emma curled her feet under her and waited for her parents to sit on the couch. Once they were seated, she looked to her mum and said, “I don’t understand the reasoning for the council’s requests. I don’t want to leave London.”

“Luv, we discussed this earlier. Ye’re goin’ to marry a bloomin’ PORF.” With watery eyes, her mum continued, “I’ve never struggled with being a council member until today. Choosin’ wot was best for our organization over wot I want was not easy.” Her mum reached out to cup Emma’s face. “Ye’re a smart, strong-willed girl. I’m ever so proud of ye.”

Emma sat back, pulling away from her mum’s touch. If she was so smart, why wasn’t she able to figure out the logic in leaving her shop, her family, her friends; all for the unknown. Yes, she could set up shop in a new town, but the council’s request precluded her from doing so by limiting her to designing for the stranger, Miss Suttingham. “Explain why Miss Suttingham’s name was the only one on the list, then?”

“My, my. I can’t believe Mr. Neale has shared that with ye.”

Emma rarely saw her mum in a state of surprise. Was her mum’s reaction due to Christopher having openly shared the information prior to their union or because he had informed her at all? He was a brilliant barrister, and he could have kept the details a secret if he wished. Happiness spread through her chest. Christopher trusted her, and he’d given her the option to stay or leave. As a husband, he’d have every right to order her to journey with him. Lifting her gaze to her parents, Emma replied. “He did. He said I could decide if I want to stay or go.”

Her dad’s lips finally broke into a smile. “See, luv, I told ye he wouldn’t force her.” He leaned back and wrapped an arm about his wife’s shoulders. “He’ll go get things done and come home to Em.”

Rounding on her dad, her mum said, “That is not wot the council intended. We explained it all to him.”

The subtle movements of give and take between her parents were intriguing. Emma hadn’t paid close attention to her parents’ actions before. But the gentle stroke of her dad’s thumb, her mum’s tendency to lean into her dad, struck Emma to the core. It was the same with her and Christopher. Her body sought to be closer to Christopher whenever he was near, and whenever possible, Christopher would gently caress her or provide soothing touches.

Her dad’s booming, “Ha!” brought her attention back to her parents.

With a smirk, her dad said, “Then ye must have left somethin’ out. Mr. Neale is a fine barrister—”

Her mum rounded on Emma. “Why would ye even consider letting yer husband leave ye behind?”

Emma snapped back, “Why would I leave my family? The Network needs me here.”

Her mum sank back and leaned into Emma’s dad. The woman Emma loved and admired most sat unmoving with a look of disappointment upon her delicate features. Recoiling on the inside, Emma admitted she’d been rude and disrespectful. “I’m sorry, Mum.”

With a nod, her mum acknowledged her apology. “I’m not gonna say this again, so listen carefully, child. Ye marry Mr. Neale, ye become a PORF, and yer priorities and responsibilities change. The Network will support ye. Yer family will always be yer family. But yer future… well, only ye get to decide upon that. No one else, ye understand?”

Emma shook her head. She was stubborn. But as usual, her mum was right—her future was within her control. “Aye.” Christopher was her future. She cared for the man deeply, more than she thought herself capable of. Just thinking of him eased some of the ache in her heart.

Her dad leaned forward and hauled Emma into his lap like she was five all over again. He had the same serious set to his features that he’d worn the day he asked Emma for her permission to marry her mum. “Girl, I’ve never known ye to back down from a challenge, and no matter wot ye decide, I’ll support ye.” He placed a kiss upon her forehead and then set Emma