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in the blazes she believed her son was up to. Aunt Henri was a PORF, and Emma needed to remember that fact, irrespective of how the woman treated her. From the very first time they met, Aunt Henri had treated Emma as family. A bond Emma valued and did not wish to risk.

The corner of Aunt Henri’s lips remained curved in a slight grin. What was so amusing? The woman’s smile disappeared, her eyes popped wide open as she righted herself straight as a pole. “Hereford and Landon have been rather cozy lately. If my intuition is correct, you won’t be able to continue hiding from Lord Hereford. Your half-nephew is an extremely honorable and determined young fellow. I suspect he will figure some way to claim you as family.”

“I’ve been thinkin’ upon it…and just this eve your son brought up another matter I need to seek Theo’s counsel on.”

“Oh?”

“Do ye fink it wise for Bronwyn to be associated with me in front of her new peers? Will me presence harm her chances of formin’ strong and good bonds with the ladies of the ton?”

“I was disowned by my own papa, a duke no less, for marrying a second son. Yet the women I once called friends have once again welcomed me back into their fold. Bronwyn will have to be brave and learn how to navigate the social whirl, and she has wonderful instincts in whom to trust.”

“Ye mean she doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Exactly. But I will defer to my wise young niece as to your question. I wish it were a simple matter and I could advise you that the views and opinions of the ton do not matter, but in reality, not only is Bronwyn now a countess, she is also the wife to the Head PORF, which means there are far more implications to consider.”

“Aye. I’d not want to embarrass or bring scandal upon Bronwyn.” The plush squabs of the Hadfield coach beneath her thighs were reminders of her best friend’s new life as Countess Hadfield.

“Let’s wait to discuss with Theo. She has a mind for considering all the consequences.”

“Will you be accompanyin’ her to her fitting?”

“I hadn’t planned on doing so, but perhaps I should. Would you like me to be there?”

Emma tensed every muscle. She was to do the bidding of PORFs, not the other way around. “Only if it is yer wish.”

Clack. Aunt Henri struck the heel of her foot hard against the coach floor. “Child, you’d best become comfortable speaking your mind with me, or I’ll not have you for a daughter-in-law.”

Emma whipped her head to face Aunt Henri. “Why would ye say something so half-cocked?”

“I saw the way Christopher looked at you tonight. He’s already half in love with you.”

“Nay. He’s not. Christopher’s in love with Lady Arabelle, and sometimes he gets us mixed up, is all.”

“Are you certain?” Aunt Henri’s eyebrows arched upwards. “I’ve seen him dance with Lady Arabelle on a number of occasions, and I can attest it was not at all the same.”

“Yer son is a gentleman, and as soon as he weds, he’ll become an official PORF. I’ll be honor-bound to serve.”

The coach swayed to the right as they made a turn. Emma righted herself as Aunt Henri mumbled, “Oh, you’ll be bound to honor him if he has anything to do with it.”

Egad. Emma adored the woman, but Aunt Henri was delusional—Christopher wasn’t in love or plotting to wed her. Her heart raced a little faster. Aunt Henri was no fool and seldom wrong.

“Do you not find my son desirable?”

Oh, she found Christopher to be alluring…captivating, and extremely attractive. Clear images of Christopher dressed only in his lawn shirt and trousers increased her body temperature and brought a pink tinge to her cheeks. She could only hope her bodily reactions were masked in the dimly lit coach.

“My lady, ye birthed two incredibly handsome men, one with a dimple that hazes the mind and the other with a smile that blinds a woman. But I’m not one to dally about with a man, and I’m quite certain Christopher would not want to marry a woman like me, sired out of wedlock and all.”

“You don’t think much of Christopher then.” Disappointment settled into the fine lines around Aunt Henri’s eyes, making her appear older than she usually did.

How was she to explain? While her sire had unexplainably fathered an honorable heir, who sired one also, she was conceived from a horrific experience. Bad blood flowed through her veins. She never wanted to taint her family or any other. Emma tried her best to live without reproach at all times. Had even distanced herself from her loving family, for she had sinful thoughts all the time. Especially when she danced in the arms of the charming Christopher Neale—barrister, gentleman, and future PORF. She experienced a wicked longing to have Christopher’s lips upon hers when he melted her heart with his intense gazes. Even knowing he was picturing another lady, she didn’t care. She wanted to pretend she was the one he undressed with his eyes.

The coach came to a halt. Emma admitted, “I didn’t think much of him before I met him.” Crisply folding the blanket and placing it on the rear-facing seat, Emma continued, “But after spending a few hours with him, it’s clear he needs a smart, talented woman to wed.” A woman who could read books and debate with him in the evenings. Not someone like her who fancied evenings filled with kisses and the pleasure of his glorious taut body next to hers. No. Christopher Neale should marry a woman of equal breeding and intelligence.

The coach door swung open. Aunt Henri said, “We are not done conversing.” The footman nodded and closed the door. Capturing Emma’s hand, Aunt Henri continued, “What my son deserves is a woman who will love him for his rather confounding and complex personality. As his mother, I assure you it will take an extraordinary woman to tempt my dear son

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