Scandal

Chapter 20

Emily felt as though the garden wall itself had fallen on her.

"It's me, damn it," Simon growled in her ear as the impact of his body sent her sprawling along the damp pavement stones. "Don't shoot."

"Simon! What on earth… ?" The pistol was knocked from Emily's hands. She heard it skitter across the narrow alley. The swirling folds of her voluminous cloak protected her from the dirt and grit of the pavement but they also blinded her. For a moment she could see nothing.

"Blade! So the bitch told you, did she? I warned her not to say anything," Crofton yelled. "She was a fool. I'll kill you both, by God."

Simon's weight was suddenly gone from her as he leapt to his feet. Emily sat up quickly, jerking the black velvet away from her face. She got free of the cloak, only to realize she could see nothing but the blurred shapes of the two men. Her spectacles had fallen off in the struggle. She groped frantically about and her fingers closed around the delicate metal frames. They were unbroken, she realized in relief.

Emily put her spectacles back on just in time to see Crofton drawing a pistol out from the pocket of his coat. He aimed it straight at Simon.

"No," Emily gasped, struggling to her feet.

But in that instant Simon lashed out with his foot, catching Crofton's hand with such force that something cracked and the pistol went flying.

Crofton's eyes widened in genuine terror as Simon closed in on him. He sidled backward but there was no time to run. He grabbed a stone lying on the pavement and flung it at Simon's head, but missed and hit the alley wall. Then Crofton dove for the pistol Emily had dropped.

Simon closed the short distance between himself and the other man in the blink of an eye. He slashed at Crofton's neck with the edge of his hand just as the man grabbed the pistol.

Crofton crumpled to the pavement and lay very still.

Emily looked down at the fallen man and then raised her eyes to Simon's savagely controlled face. He gazed back at her, golden gaze burning in the pale moonlight.

"I told him I would bring a dragon with me tonight," Emily whispered.

"Go back to the house," Simon said quietly. "Find Greaves. Tell him to send either George or Harry out here at once. Then return to your guests."

Emily shook off the odd paralysis that seemed to have gripped her. "Simon, wait, I had a very clever plan."

"Did you?" Simon came toward her, eyes still glittering strangely.

Emily instinctively took a step back. "Yes, my lord. I was going to make it appear as though he had been attacked by a footpad out here in the alley. I spent a great deal of time working out the details."

"I will take care of the details."

"Is he dead?"

"No. I do not think it will be necessary to kill him. There are other ways of getting rid of his type." Simon's hand closed over her arm and he hauled her toward the garden gate. "You will go back to the house at once and you will do precisely as I have instructed. Is that quite clear, madam?"

"Yes, Simon."

Emily glanced back once over her shoulder and a small shudder went through her at the sight of Crofton lying on the damp pavement. Then she was back in the safety of the garden, hurrying toward the warm lights and the sounds of laughter that spilled from the house.

The last of the guests did not leave until nearly dawn. Just before being handed into her carriage, Lady Merryweather took Emily aside and assured her that the entire affair had been an enormous success and that the soiree would be the talk of the town by noon.

If only she knew just how exciting the soiree really had been, Emily thought as a yawning Lizzie finally finished preparing her mistress for bed and left the bedchamber.

The sound of the door of Simon's bedchamber opening and closing told her that Higson was also through with his tasks. Emily jumped out of bed, grabbed her wrapper, and rushed across the carpet to the connecting door. She had been seething with impatience ever since Simon had quietly returned to the soiree and rejoined the guests.

For the remainder of the evening he had acted as if nothing untoward had occurred and naturally Emily had been obliged to behave in the same fashion. Together they had played the role of host and hostess for the next few excruciatingly long hours. Now, at last, they could talk.

Emily yanked open the door and saw Simon standing near a small table in the corner. He was wearing his dressing gown and was in the process of pouring himself a glass of brandy from a decanter. He glanced over his shoulder as Emily burst into the bedchamber.

"Do come in, madam," Simon said blandly. "I have been expecting you."

"Simon, I have been going mad. Is everything all right? Did you get rid of Crofton? What have you done with him?"

"Kindly keep your voice down, madam. We do not wish to alarm the servants."

"Yes, of course." Chastened, Emily sat down on the side of the bed. "Simon, please," she urged in a loud whisper. "You must tell me everything."

"No, Emily, I think it is you who should do the explaining." Simon crossed the floor and sank down onto the other side of the bed. He propped himself up against the pillows and stretched his legs out in front of him. His eyes met hers as he swirled the brandy in his glass. "From the beginning, if you please."

Emily twisted around and peered anxiously at him. She heaved a deep sigh. "It is rather difficult to explain."

"Try."

"Yes, well, you remember me telling you that my father was in dun territory?"

"Very well," Simon agreed. "I assume that Crofton was the gamester who held the vowels?"

"Yes. I encountered both Crofton and Papa at the theater the other night."

"Where they had no doubt been lying in wait for you."

"Most probably," Emily admitted. "In any event, Papa said he had gotten quite downcast when he'd realized he'd lost the last of his fortune. He apparently drank too much one night. While he was in his cups he had talked to Crofton and told him about the Unfortunate Incident in my past."

"You refer to the nonexistent Incident, I presume?"

Emily frowned. "Well, yes, but Crofton knew it was a fact, you see."

"Blackmailing bastard." Simon sipped his brandy.

"Crofton said that unless I helped Papa pay his gaming debts, he would spread gossip about the Incident throughout Society."

"I see."

"I did not mind the threat to myself, of course. I long ago learned to live with the blot on my reputation. And in Little Dippington nobody seemed to mind, anyway. But if the truth emerged here in town it would create a dreadful scandal. It would result in a terrible stain on your title. You would be humiliated and it would be all my fault and I could not bear that, Simon. I know you married me on the assumption that you would be able to keep the scandal hidden."

"So you plotted to shoot Crofton?"

"Well, yes. I could not think of any other alternative, you see. He had heard about your beautiful dragons. He said just one of them would undoubtedly cover Papa's gaming debts. So I told him I would bring him one of the statues tonight. I lied. My plan was to wound him very seriously. I wanted to frighten him off, you see."

"You were going to kill him in order to protect me from humiliation." Simon shook his head in disbelief. "God in heaven. You never cease to amaze me, madam."

A shiver of fear went through her as she absorbed the odd tone of his words. Emily drew back slightly, folding her hands in her lap. She studied him carefully. "Have I shocked you at last, Simon?" she whispered.

"Yes, Emily, you have."

Emily finally began to realize how the whole incident must appear in Blade's eyes. No wonder he was acting so strangely. He was no doubt sickened and repulsed by her now. She had ruined everything. Emily stood up slowly as tears welled in her eyes. "I am sorry, my lord. I confess that until now I did not consider the matter from your point of view. I can see how disgusted you must be to know you are married to a woman who is capable of shooting someone."

"Not that it matters, but you did not shoot anyone tonight, Emily."

"Not for lack of trying."

His mouth curved faintly. "No, not from lack of trying. You are a tigress when you set out to protect your own, aren't you, my dear?"

Emily stared at him in confusion. "I could not let him humiliate you, Simon."

"No, of course not. You love me. You adore me. You think I am noble and generous and brave, a paragon among husbands." Simon took a sip of brandy. "You would do anything for me."

"Simon?" Emily's voice was uncertain.

"You must forgive me for being somewhat dazed at the moment. Actually, I have been in this state for the past several hours. No one in my entire life has ever tried to protect me, elf."

Emily continued to stare at him, unable to speak.

"I have taken care of myself for as long as I can remember," Simon continued. "And when I met you, I realized I wanted to take care of you, too. But the notion of someone being willing to risk her life for me, the concept of someone willing to shoot a man to protect me, has temporarily scattered my wits."

"Simon, are you trying to tell me you are not repulsed by my actions, after all?"

"I am trying to tell you that I probably do not deserve you, elf, but I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me." His golden eyes flashed in the candlelight. "In that way, I believe we must be two of a kind."

"Oh, Simon."

"A long time ago I wrote three letters asking for help."

"You wrote them to Northcote, Canonbury, and Peppington. Yes, I know," Emily said gently.

"When that help was refused I vowed I would never again ask anything of anyone in this world or the next. But now I find I must break that oath. Please do not ever stop loving me, elf. Losing your love would destroy me."

"Oh, Simon." Emily's fingers twisted in the folds of her wrapper as the happiness threatened to explode inside her.

"I love you, Emily," Simon said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I probably have all along. God knows nothing else could account for much of my behavior recently. But when I saw you about to shoot Crofton in order to protect me, I knew it for certain. I also knew I had to tell you."

"Simon." Emily could not stand it anymore. She threw herself across the bed and into her husband's arms.

He caught her close. The empty brandy glass fell to the carpet as Simon crushed his wife against him and buried his lips in her hair. He held her so tightly Emily could not breathe, but she did not mind in the least.

"Tell me you will give me what I ask," he whispered.

"Tell me you will love me forever, elf." Simon tipped her chin up so that he could look down into her eyes.

"Forever, Simon."

"Good. Now, then, there is just one more point I would like to make tonight."

"Yes?" she looked up at him expectantly.

"You will give me your word that you will never again attempt anything so dangerous as that meeting with Crofton," Simon said roughly.

"But, Simon, I had no choice. The scandal—"

He put his fingertips over her mouth. "The scandal does not exist, Emily. How many times must I tell you?"

"But Crofton knew about it. He would have told everyone."

"No, my sweet, he would not have dared to tell anyone. He would have known the price of such gossip would have been his own life. And there would have been no reason to take the risk. He would have realized I could have crushed the gossip as easily as I would have crushed him."

"Simon, are you really that powerful?"

"Yes, Emily, I am. Crofton's only hope of using the information was to threaten you with it. And that is exactly what he did."

"Oh. And I fell for his trick."

"Because you love me. But in future you will also trust me enough to come directly to me if you are ever again faced with such a problem. Are we agreed?"

"Yes, Simon." She smiled tremulously.

He carefully removed her spectacles and then he brought his mouth down on hers with a soul-wrenching hunger that sent shivers through Emily.

She moaned into his mouth and joyously gave herself up to the embrace. With utter abandon and excessive passion, she clung to her husband.

"Oh, God, elf, I need you so much," Simon muttered thickly against her throat. "Love me. Love me."

"I could do nothing else except love you, Simon."

Gently, he pushed Emily onto her back. As he undressed her, Simon's hands were everywhere, moving with a tender, possessive urgency across her breasts and alone the inside of her thighs. The raging need in him sparked her own blazing desires. Emily shivered again in the grasp of the dragon.

When he settled between her legs and guided himself into her with one long, powerful thrust, Emily cried out and clawed at his back. Simon gripped her hips and held her to him as he drove himself into her.

And then they were lost in the wondrous world they had created for themselves.

A long time later, Emily stirred sleepily in Simon's arms. "Well, my lord?"

Simon yawned hugely. He looked like a lazy, supremely satiated dragon. "Well, what?"

"Would you agree at last that there is only one way to describe the culmination of our lovemaking?"

"You refer, I imagine, to that immortal line from your epic poem. We are, indeed, cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore."

"Actually," Emily said thoughtfully as she moved her toes up and down the length of Simon's leg, "I think our lovemaking is even better than that. I do not believe the line quite captures the full magnitude of the event."

"You are quite correct. It does not."

"I shall have to work on some new lines for my poem."

"Perhaps you ought to broaden the range of your sensual experience a bit further, madam poet." Simon's fingers trailed warmly over her thigh.

Emily turned toward him. She was about to kiss him when a thought struck her. "Simon?"

"Hmm?" He was busy nuzzling her throat.

"How did you happen to know I was conducting that dreadful scene with Crofton in the alley tonight?"

Simon's bare shoulders moved in a negligent shrug. He pinned her leg with one powerful thigh. "I merely had a hunch something was wrong. I searched for you in the crowd and could not find you, so I went looking."

"Hah. I knew it."

"Knew what?" Simon drew the tip of his tongue across one nipple.

"We do communicate on the metaphysical level, Simon," Emily said excitedly. "The events this evening prove it. How could you have known I was involved in something terrible tonight unless you had received some mystical message on the transcendental plane?"

Simon raised his head to gaze down at her. At first he looked rather nonplussed. And then a slow, wickedly sensual grin curved his hard mouth. "You are quite right, my love. But in future, I would rather you did not rely on metaphysical communication. The next time you are plotting an adventure of any kind, I want your word you will discuss it with me verbally as well as in the metaphysical realm. Agreed?"

"Whatever you wish, Simon. You know, I am having second thoughts about my epic poem."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. I am thinking of changing the title from The Mysterious Lady to The Mysterious Earl."

Simon groaned.

"Just think, Simon. It opens up all sorts of new possibilities for exciting adventures and thrilling scenes."

"Come here and thrill me, Emily," Simon ordered, pulling her closer.

"Certainly, my lord."

Simon sat behind his black lacquered desk and eyed the library full of Faringdons. Broderick Faringdon was occupying the chair nearest the brandy decanter. Devlin and Charles were ranged expectantly on either side of the black mantel, rather like a handsome pair of gilt candlesticks.

Emily, dressed in a dragon-trimmed gown, sat demurely in a red velvet chair near the desk. Simon was not unaware of the significance of her choice of position in the room. She was on his side.

"I have summoned the three of you here today because the time has come to settle certain matters," Simon said slowly.

"Well, well, well." Broderick Faringdon nodded approval. "Must say it's about time you assumed your duties to your in-laws. I can give you the total of my current losses immediately and let you know how much additional blunt I'll be needing to carry on with until Emily can replenish our finances."

Simon drummed his fingers on the desk, aware that Emily was chewing on her lower lip again. "First, we shall discuss the future of Devlin and Charles." Simon glanced at the young men. "You have both agreed to my offer?"

"Jumped at it, is more like it," Devlin said cheerfully.

"Cannot wait to be off to India," Charles agreed. "Good thing I never got around to offering for Maryann Mathews. Much rather go abroad and make my fortune. India's the land of opportunity and adventure and all that. Bound to come back rich."

"Excellent," Simon murmured, amused at the surprise on Emily's face. "I have spoken to my man of affairs and he has arranged suitable positions for both of you in Bombay. Passage has been booked on a ship in which I own controlling interest. It sails tomorrow on the morning tide. Captain Adams is expecting you aboard."

"We are already packed and ready, sir," Devlin assured him happily.

Broderick Faringdon scowled first at his sons and then at Simon. "What the devil is this all about? Dev and Charles are off to India?"

"They have decided to seek their fortunes on their own, without relying on their sister," Simon said smoothly. "And as their father, I am certain you will wish to do the same. You know how important it is to set a good example."

Broderick sputtered in outraged shock. "See here, if this is another offer to fob me off on some menial employment on your horse farm in Yorkshire, you can bloody well go to hell."

"What offer was this?" Emily broke in to demand.

"Your tightfisted husband came to me the other day with the crazed notion of paying off my debts if I would agree to go to Yorkshire to manage some damn horse farm," Broderick said in aggrieved tones. "Can you believe it? Me? Working on a horse farm?"

Emily blinked and turned to Simon. "You offered to do this for him? Simon, that was wonderfully generous of you. I had no notion you had done such a thing."

Simon shrugged. "My offer was rejected out of hand."

"Damn right, it was." Broderick was overflowing with righteous indignation. "Cannot expect a man o' the world to bury himself in Yorkshire."

"Sounds like an excellent suggestion to me," Devlin observed. "You've always had an eye for good horseflesh, Father."

"Should have thought you'd have taken him up on it," Charles agreed. "Perfect solution to the problem."

"Now, see here," Broderick yelped, shocked at the traitorous words of his sons. " 'Twas no such thing."

"Your father had another solution in mind," Simon said quietly. "But as it happens, it did not work out." For some strange reason he did not feel like telling Charles and Devlin just what sort of bastard their father had been. Emily had been right. The twins were different from their parent. They had been languishing for lack of a proper example but had been eager enough to grow up when shown the way.

"Did not work out?" Broderick flicked a startled glance at his daughter and then scowled at Simon. "What are you talking about now?"

"I have made some arrangements for you," Simon said.

Broderick nodded, looking somewhat placated. "Thought you'd come through. Told Emily she would be able to talk you into it. Didn't I say that to you, girl?"

"Yes, Papa. That's what you said," Emily murmured.

"Whole world knows Blade indulges you to an astonishing degree. And he don't want any more scandal, o' course." Broderick smiled with satisfaction. "Now, then, Blade. About the matter of replenishing my capital."

"Yes, of course." Simon folded his hands on top of the desk and met Broderick's expectant gaze. "You will want to get started as quickly as possible, as you are, apparently almost entirely without funds at the moment."

"Quite right."

"I have, therefore, taken the liberty of booking one-way passage for you on another of my ships. This one is not bound for India, however, as I feel your sons should be on their own. Instead you will be sailing for a small island in the East Indies where I have some business investments."

Broderick stared at him. "You've gone mad sir."

Simon ignored him. "A position in one of my ventures awaits you on the island. Once there, you may choose to accept that position or reject it. I do not particularly care. But either way, you will be going to the island and you will not be able to get back to England unless you manage to earn your passage. It is rather expensive."

"See here," Broderick raged, surging to his feet, "I am not going to Yorkshire, let alone to some bloody damn island in the East Indies."

"You are right about not going to Yorkshire. That offer will not be made again. I want you out of England altogether, and mark my words, you will be on board the Sea Demon tomorrow morning when it sails. You have only two options. You may go willingly, or I shall have you tied up and carried aboard. Take your pick."

"You cannot do that, damn it," Broderick snarled.

"I own the Sea Demon and every man on board, including her captain," Simon said softly. "I have told Captain Conway that you are to sail with him to the East Indies. Two of his men are waiting out in the street now. They will escort you back to your lodgings and assist you in packing your belongings. You will spend the night aboard so that we do not have to worry about you nipping off to the country."

Broderick's desperate gaze went straight to Emily. "You cannot let him do this to me, Em."

Emily drew herself up and faced her father. "My husband has, as usual, been extremely generous under the circumstances. But, then, he is naturally inclined to do the noble thing. 'Tis his nature. I wish you a good voyage, Papa. Be certain to write when you arrive."

"Emily!"

"I am in need of a good correspondent from that part of the world. I have always felt I lacked sufficient information from the East Indies for my various investment decisions in that area. You can be a great asset to me, Papa."

"Dear God," Broderick said, clearly dazed. "My own daughter has turned against her loving papa. I cannot credit it."

"I myself had a bit of difficulty crediting the arrangements you had allowed to be made regarding the payment of your gaming debts," Simon said, feeling dangerous all over again as he recalled the scene in the alley.

"You… know about that?" Broderick asked uneasily.

"I know all. Emily and I enjoy a most unusual form of communication," Simon explained.

"Good God. I never meant… never actually thought it would come to that. Thought Emily could talk you into paying the debts. It was Crofton who suggested applying the spurs, you know. Said Emily might need some incentive."

"I would not say anything more, if I were you," Simon warned softly. "You may be interested to know, however, that you will not be alone when you sail to the East. Your good friend Crofton will be with you. Indeed, he is already on board, awaiting your arrival."

Broderick's mouth opened and then closed again as Simon's cold fury finally registered. This was obviously the first time he had realized his opponent knew everything. Whatever he saw now in Simon's gaze must have convinced him that there was no more hope. Broderick turned to Emily, eyes pleading. She returned his glance without expression.

"Goodbye, Papa."

"Banished to the East Indies. Of all the unjust fates. I wish your mama were here. She would know what to do." Broderick got up, walked slowly to the door, and let himself out into the hall.

A long silence descended on the library. Devlin glanced at his twin. Both straightened away from the mantel, looking suddenly much older and far more mature than they had a few weeks ago.

"Time we were on our way," Charles said crisply. "Plenty to do before we leave tomorrow." He leaned down to give Emily an affectionate peck on the cheek. "You'll come down to the docks to see us off, Em?"

"Of course." She smiled at him.

"We'll write to you, Em." Devlin kissed his sister's cheek and grinned down at her. "And we'll send you all our profits to invest."

"Do take care, both of you." Emily jumped to her feet to embrace the twins.

"We will." Charles gave her the charming Faringdon grin. "And the next time you see us, we'll both be rich nabobs." He turned to Simon. "Goodbye, sir. And thank you for everything."

"Yes," Devlin said, giving Simon a straight look. "Thank you. We know we're leaving our sister in good hands. Take care of her."

"I will," Simon said.

He waited until the door had closed behind the twins and then he got to his feet and went over to the brandy decanter. He poured two glasses and brought one back to Emily. "A toast, madam wife."

She smiled with her eyes as she lifted her glass. "What are we toasting, my lord?"

"An England free of Flighty, Feckless Faringdons." Simon took a satisfying swallow of brandy.

"What about me?"

"You," said Simon as he set down his glass, "are not a Faringdon." He crossed the room and locked the library door. "You have not been one since the day I married you."

"I see." She watched his every move with brilliant eyes. "Simon, I must thank you for all that you have done for my family. You have been extremely generous. I have never seen Charles and Devlin looking so excited about anything as they are about going out to India. And as for my father…"

"What about him?"

"As I said, you were most generous toward him. He did not deserve it."

"No, he did not."

"You are so kind, Simon," she said impulsively. "So generous and noble and—"

He held up a palm to silence her. "What I did, I did to free myself of Faringdons. It was entirely selfish on my part."

"No, what you did, you did for me," she said knowingly. Then she laughed up at him with her eyes. "The whole world knows you indulge me shamelessly."

"And the whole world knows you are helplessly in love with me, totally in my thrall, and completely at my mercy." He untied the knot in his white cravat as he started back across the room.

"It seems a fair enough arrangement to me."

"What the whole world will no doubt determine soon enough," Simon said as he eased the length of silk from around his throat, "is that I am just as much in love with you as you are with me."

"Does that possibility worry you, my lord?"

He came to a halt in front of her, the white silk cravat dangling from his fingers. "Not in the slightest."

"Simon? What are you going to do with that cravat?" Emily asked.

He draped it sensuously around her throat. "The same thing I did with it the last time we made love here in the library."

"Really?" Then her eyes widened. " 'Tis the middle of the day, my lord."

"Never too early to be cast adrift on love's transcendent, golden shore, my sweet." He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to one of the huge satin pillows.

He settled her on the gold cushion and came down beside her. She smiled at him, her love blazing in her beautiful eyes.

And when she was wearing nothing at all except the strip of white silk, she went into his arms the way she always did—with a joyous, loving passion that was strong enough to last a lifetime.

Out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw one of the jeweled dragons grinning at him. The earl laughed and the laughter became dragon's music and it filled the house.