Scandal

Chapter 8

Emily hurried expectantly downstairs to breakfast the next morning only to realize immediately that her lovely new morning dress of blossom pink had been wasted. Simon was not waiting to compliment her on the pleated neck frill or the embroidery on the skirt which the village seamstress had worked on so industriously. She was informed he had gone out riding quite early.

Deflated, Emily sat down and morosely watched a footman pour her coffee. Last night when Simon had carried her upstairs to bed and then gone to his own room she had been deeply disappointed. But she had told herself that was the way things were done in the fashionable world. Everyone knew couples rarely slept together for the entire night. Marriages of convenience led to relationships in which people demanded a great deal of privacy.

But even though she knew she was guilty of coercing Simon into a marriage of convenience, at least on his part, Emily had been certain that her relationship with him would be vastly different. Especially after what had happened last night.

Emily felt a small, transcendent thrill course through her again as the memories returned. She blushed now just thinking about how she had felt lying naked in Simon's arms in front of the fire. Her nerves tingled as she remembered the strange, mesmerizing glitter in her husband's golden eyes as he had crushed her into the carpet. It had been shocking yet oddly exciting to realize he had actually entered her, had become a part of her.

The experience was totally unlike anything she had ever imagined. Her senses had literally reeled beneath the onslaught. True, she had not experienced the thrilling sense of release that Simon had given her the first time he had caressed her intimately, but what had happened last night was far more profound. They had been joined into a single being for a time.

Simon had been quite right, Emily reflected as she sipped her coffee. Such a physical union was bound to enhance their union on the transcendental plane. It was inconceivable that anything so stunning, so powerful and overwhelming, could fail to affect events in the metaphysical world. There had to be a connection between the two realms.

Trust Simon to understand that and to nobly insist upon carrying out his husbandly duties in the name of metaphysical experimentation. He was obviously determined to make this marriage work. And Emily just knew that sooner or later he would come to love her as deeply as she loved him.

It was inevitable, especially now that their communication was being enhanced on the physical as well as the metaphysical level.

Still, accustomed as she was to eating breakfast alone, today the silence in the morning room seemed unexpectedly gloomy. She had no desire to linger. She was thinking wistfully that it would have been nice if Simon had invited her to ride with him when Duckett entered the room. His dour face was set in grave, disapproving lines.

"Your pardon, madam," Duckett said austerely, "but your father has sent a lad around to the kitchens with a message. It seems your presence is requested in the south garden."

Emily looked up, astonished. "My father? But he left for London with Devlin and Charles directly after the wedding."

Duckett looked more bleak than ever, if such a thing was possible. "Apparently not, madam. I fear he is presently in the south garden."

"How odd. Why does he not come to the house?"

Duckett cleared his throat and said with a hint of satisfaction, "I believe his lordship, the earl, has forbidden your father to enter the house without his lordship's express permission, madam. I understand the arrangement was made yesterday after the services."

Emily's eyes widened in astonishment. She knew there was no love lost between her father and her husband. But a bargain had been struck that day when she had eavesdropped on the two men as they negotiated her future in the library. Simon had implied that if her father met his demands, Broderick Faringdon could continue to communicate with Emily. She was certain that was what had been agreed upon.

"There has been some misunderstanding," Emily told the butler.

Duckett chose to ignore that indisputable fact. "As to that, I could not say, madam. Shall I send someone to tell Mr. Faringdon that you are not available?"

"Good heavens, no, Duckett." Emily jumped to her feet. "I am quite available, as you can plainly see. Actually, I am glad to hear my father is still in the vicinity. I did not have an opportunity to bid him or my brothers a proper farewell yesterday. I was so very busy. I did not even realize my family had left for London until Blade mentioned it. And by then it was too late."

"Yes, madam." Duckett inclined his head. "I'll send Lizzie upstairs to fetch you a wrap. It is rather chilly outside today."

"Never mind, Duckett." Emily looked out at the bright April sunshine that was pouring through the morning room window. "I won't be needing anything. 'Tis going to be a pleasant day."

"As you wish, madam." Duckett cleared his throat. "I realize it is not my place to say anything further on the subject, madam, but…"

"Yes, Duckett? What is it?"

"I was just wondering if madam has considered the, er, wisdom of meeting Mr. Faringdon in the south garden."

Emily laughed. "Good lord, Duckett, I am going to meet my father, not a paramour or a murderer."

"Of course, madam." Duckett's expression implied he questioned the assumption. "It simply occurred to me that perhaps his lordship might have certain notions concerning the propriety of the situation."

"Oh, for pity's sake, Duckett. You are not making any sense at all. We are talking about my father." Emily went around the table. She smiled reassuringly at Duckett as she went past him through the door. "Do not concern yourself with whatever Blade might have to say on the subject. He and I share a unique form of communication, you know. We understand each other very well."

"I see." Duckett looked unconvinced.

Emily paid no further attention to the butler's obvious qualms. Duckett had no way of knowing what had transpired between herself and Simon last night. Therefore he could not begin to comprehend the nature of the greatly enhanced metaphysical relationship Emily now shared with her husband.

Emily determined to clear up the misunderstanding at once. Simon would certainly never have barred her father from seeing her after the wedding. There was no need. The threat had been merely a negotiating tool that Simon had employed in an effort to exact justice.

The day was, indeed, turning out to be sunny, but there was a decided nip in the air. Emily had lived all her life in the country and she knew the signs. A storm was moving in. There would be rain tonight.

She glanced around the south garden with satisfaction as she made her way to the far end. Daffodils and early roses were starting to bloom in showy profusion and the air was filled with the heady perfume of flowers. A small, ornate fountain topped by a cherub with a watering pot formed the focal point of the garden. There was a tall hedge behind the fountain.

Broderick Faringdon was waiting behind the hedge. He emerged with a furtive expression, glancing quickly to the left and right.

"Papa." Emily smiled at her handsome father and hastened forward. "I am so glad you came back to say goodbye. I was very sorry to have missed making my farewells to you and the twins yesterday. There was so much going on and so many people around. It was a lovely wedding, was it not? Everyone in the vicinity was there and they all seemed so happy for me."

"Aye, Blade kept you busy enough, didn't he?" Broderick agreed darkly. "Ran you right off your feet, he did. Kept you dancing and drinking and visiting so that you wouldn't even notice when he sent your family away from you. Here I am, forced to creep around like a thief in the night just to say farewell to my one and only daughter."

Emily tilted her head to one side. "He sent you away? What on earth are you talking about, Papa?"

Broderick shook his head with an air of bitter sadness. "My poor, innocent girl. You still have no notion of what you've got yourself into, do you?"

"Pray, do not worry about me, Papa. I know what I am doing and I am quite content with my marriage."

Broderick gave her a sharp glance. "Are you? I wonder how long you will be content. I expect the damage is done, in any event, eh? Blade ain't likely to miss a trick."

"What damage? Papa, I wish you would explain yourself."

Broderick eyed her speculatively, a spark of hope in his gaze. "I don't suppose there's any hope that Blade left you alone last night, is there? Any chance of an annulment?"

Emily's face flamed. "Good grief, Papa. What a thing to say."

"Here, now. This is no time for maidenly blushes. This is business." Broderick looked even more hopeful. "Just tell me the truth, girl. Are you still untouched? Because if you are, it's not too late. We can see about having the whole thing overturned."

"Really, Papa." Emily's embarrassment turned to irritation. She drew herself up proudly. "I am not about to seek an annulment. I am a very happily married woman."

"Damn. Then there's no hope."

"No hope for what? What are you trying to say?"

Broderick sighed dramatically. "This is the end, my dearest child. Say farewell to your loving papa, for you will never see him again."

"Do not be ridiculous. Of course we shall see each other again. Simon and I will be going to London after our honeymoon. I shall have ample opportunity to visit with you and the twins. I shall very likely see more of you there than I did here at St. Clair Hall. After all, the three of you only came to visit when you were having a streak of bad luck at the tables."

"No, Emily. You still do not realize what a monster you have married. Blade is determined that you never have anything to do with your family again."

"You misunderstand him, Papa," Emily said quickly. "It was true he insisted on having St. Clair Hall turned over to him and used the threat of keeping me from you to enforce his demand. But he has achieved his goal. Justice has been done."

Broderick sank down wearily on the edge of the fountain. "You do not know him, Emily. Regaining the house was only the beginning. He will not rest until he has destroyed every last Faringdon."

"Papa, if you are worried about finances," Emily began slowly, "you need not be. I am quite certain that Blade will be content with his revenge now. He may not approve of me covering excessive extravagances on your part, but he will certainly have no objection to me continuing to manage your business affairs."

"Ah, my innocent lamb. You simply do not yet comprehend the nature of the beast you have been tricked into marrying. I, too, had hopes he would allow us to continue as before. T'was the only reason I agreed to his offer. But yesterday after he had you safely leg-shackled, he told me he did not intend to let you attend to any more Faringdon business matters."

Emily frowned. "I heard nothing about such a decision. I do not believe you understood him correctly, Papa. As I said, he will no doubt be somewhat restrictive regarding your financial excesses, but he would not cut you off completely."

"What a silly, naive little goose you are, my dear child." Broderick shook his head and then rose to his feet and held open his arms. "This may be the last time I shall ever see your sweet face again. Come and kiss your papa farewell. Remember me and your brothers with kindness, Emily. We truly cared for you."

Emily began to grow alarmed. "Papa, I do wish you would stop talking such nonsense."

"Goodbye, my dear. I wish you a happy life but I fear you are as doomed as the rest of your clan."

"You have it all wrong, Papa." Emily stepped uneasily back into her father's embrace. "I would never agree to be parted forever from my family. You know that. And Simon would never insist upon such a thing."

Broderick hugged her tightly as if he truly did not expect to see her again. Then he released her to look down at her with narrowed eyes. "Emily, if you truly mean not to abandon us—"

"Of course, I will not abandon you," she assured him impulsively. "I love you and the twins, Papa. You know that."

"If you mean that, if you intend to do your duty by us, then we must make some practical arrangements," Broderick said swiftly. "We must devise a way for you to continue to manage affairs and send instructions to Davenport. Now, I've been giving this some thought and I believe the easiest way to handle the problem is to arrange for regular, secret meetings."

"Secret meetings?"

"Precisely. Listen closely. Either I or one of the twins will find a way to contact you twice a month. You can relay instructions to Davenport on those occasions. We shall have to be extremely discreet, of course, but I think that can be managed, especially when you're in town. Much more opportunity there, what with the parks and the theaters and the pleasure gardens."

"But, Papa—"

"Don't fret, Emily. It will all work out," Broderick said cheerfully. "Blade's bound to lose interest in you quite soon. He's done the necessary and you ain't exactly his type, after all, are you? He just sees you as a means to an end."

"What end?" she demanded.

"Why, totally destroying us Faringdons, of course. But we'll deal with him. You'll soon find yourself on your own a great deal of the time and that will suit our plans perfectly, eh? Things will be just like they were before he showed up."

Emily opened her mouth to tell her father that her relationship with Simon was far more profound, far more blissfully transcendent than what he apparently imagined. But before she could explain, she was interrupted by Blade himself.

She stared in astonishment as Simon sauntered casually out from behind the tall hedge. Then she brightened. "Excellent, you are returned, my lord. Now, perhaps we can clear up this misunderstanding."

Simon ignored her, his eyes glittering coldly as he studied her father. "I had a hunch you'd show up sooner or later, Faringdon. Come to bid your daughter a fond farewell, have you?"

The earl looked very large and intimidating in his riding clothes. His shoulders were broad and powerful under his close-fitting jacket and his breeches emphasized the sleek muscularity of his body. He slapped his riding crop idly against the top of his gleaming black boots as he eyed Emily's father with disdain.

Broderick Faringdon swung around in alarm, his expression first startled and then angry. "Now, see here, Blade. A man's got a right to say goodbye to his one and only daughter. You certainly did not give me a chance to do so yesterday."

Simon smiled thinly. "I did not want you hanging around any longer than absolutely necessary. But today my sources inform me you spent the night at a nearby inn rather than on the road to town. I was not particularly surprised a few minutes ago when my new butler told me Emily had received a message to go to the south garden. But I am afraid I really cannot allow this sort of clandestine meeting, Faringdon."

Emily laughed with relief. "That is just what I was telling him, Simon. I knew you did not mean to bar him from the house. There is no need to arrange this sort of meeting when we can have a nice visit in the drawing room. But Papa seems to be under the impression you do not want him to ever see me again."

Both men looked at her with as much amazement as if the cherub on the fountain had just spoken.

Simon gazed at her coldly. "It will probably not be possible to avoid your father altogether, especially when we are in town. But you are never, under any circumstances, to meet with him or the twins alone. On those rare occasions when we do find ourselves obliged to see your family, I shall always accompany you. Do you understand that, Emily?"

"But, Simon…" She stared at him, taken aback by the implacable tone of his voice. "Surely, you go too far. There is no harm in my visiting with my own family."

"Damn right," Broderick said quickly, swinging back to confront the earl. "Damn it, we're her family, man."

"Not any longer. Emily has a new family now," Simon said. "And you may rest assured that as her husband, I will look after her and protect her from those who would take advantage of her."

"Damn and blast, Blade," Faringdon sputtered. "You cannot keep the girl a prisoner."

"No?" Simon slapped the riding crop against his boot again. He looked almost amused.

Emily did not like the atmosphere between the two men. It frightened her. She put her hand on her father's coat sleeve. "Papa, please do not argue with Simon today. This is my honeymoon. I am certain everything will work out. Perhaps it would be best if you left for London now."

"An excellent notion, Faringdon." Simon braced one boot on the edge of the fountain and ran the riding crop through his fingers. He managed to imbue the small, casual gesture with threatening implications. "Best take your leave. The gaming tables of London are waiting for you, are they not? It will be amusing to see how long you can hold on to your memberships in the St. James clubs."

"Damn you." Broderick looked stricken. "Are you threatening to have me thrown out of the clubs?"

"Not at all." Simon flicked a tiny speck of dirt off his breeches. "I could do so, of course. But there is no need to take such extreme measures. You will get yourself thrown out soon enough and so will your sons, when you are no longer able to pay your debts of honor. And when your luck has run out in the respectable clubs, you will be forced into the gaming hells, where your luck will run out even faster, won't it?"

"My God, man," Faringdon breathed, turning pale.

Emily was truly horrified now. It finally dawned on her that the antagonism between Simon and her father was much deeper than she had initially realized. "Simon?" she whispered hesitantly.

"Go back to the house, Emily. I will talk to you later."

"Simon, I would speak with you now."

"Do that, Emily." Broderick crammed his beaver hat more firmly on his head, his blue eyes bright with rage and frustration. "Reason with this monster you have married, if you can. But do not count on being able to soften him toward your family. He hates us all, even the twins, who never did him any harm. And if he hates them, he must also despise you. After all, you're just one more Faringdon."

"Papa, you do not understand."

"One more Faringdon," Broderick repeated savagely. "Consider that well, Emily, when he comes to you in the middle of the night and demands his rights as your husband. Contemplate it as you lay there with him rutting away on you like a stallion covering a mare."

Emily gasped in genuine shock. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening behind the lenses of her spectacles. No man had ever talked that way in her presence, not even the twins when they teased her.

"Get out of here, Faringdon," Simon said in a dangerously soft voice. He took his booted foot down from the edge of the pool. "Now."

"I wish you joy in the marriage bed, my dearest daughter," Broderick said sarcastically. He turned on his heel and left.

Emily wanted to call out to her father but she seemed to have lost her voice. She just stood there staring mutely after him and then Simon moved. He came to stand directly in front of her, blocking her view of her father's retreating back. His eyes were terrifyingly emotionless.

"Oh, Simon, he does not understand," Emily said softly.

"I would not be too certain of that." Simon took her arm and guided her back toward the house. "I believe he is finally beginning to understand very well, indeed."

"But he does not realize that our relationship is entirely different from what he imagines." She slanted a beseeching glance up at her husband's impassive profile. Silently she urged him to agree with her. "He is concerned for me because he does not know about our special form of union. He has not studied metaphysical matters."

"That I can well believe. The only thing your father has ever studied is a hand of cards. Emily, I think I should make it very clear to you that I meant what I said a few minutes ago. You are not ever to be alone with your father or your brothers. I am to be with you whenever you see them and those occasions will be kept to the minimum. Nor are you to send any further instructions to Davenport concerning their financial arrangements."

"Simon, I know you wanted revenge against my father, but surely you are satisfied with having regained St. Clair Hall. I know you threatened my father that you would not let him have access to me but surely you did not mean to carry out that threat. Not if you got the house."

"What makes you think I should be satisfied with having the house back? Your father sold off all the family lands. Nothing can replace the properties that were lost. And nothing can make up for the fact that my father put a bullet through his brain because of what your father did to him. Nothing can make up for the fact that my mother went into a decline and died because of your father's actions. Nothing can make up for the fact that your father destroyed my family."

Emily was stunned by the depth of rage and bitterness in Simon's voice. He had never before revealed such intense emotion. For the first time she began to realize Simon's feelings toward her family went far beyond a simple demand for justice.

"I understand and I am truly sorry," Emily said quickly. "You must know that. But it all happened a long time ago. It concerns our parents, not us. It was the work of an earlier generation. Now that you have St. Clair Hall back, you must let go of the past. It will only continue to torment you if you do not. Simon, you must look to the future."

"Really? And what, precisely, do you propose I contemplate when I gaze upon the future?" Simon asked dryly.

Emily took a deep breath. "Well, there is the matter of our relationship, my lord," she suggested tentatively. "As you pointed out last night, it has been considerably enhanced and deepened now by our physical union. We share something very special. Surely you will want to let go of the sadness of the past and concentrate instead on the joys of our greatly expanded methods of communication."

He looked down at her, brows arched in icy amusement. "Are you suggesting that I forgo the remainder of my vengeance against your family in favor of the joys of the marriage bed?"

Emily was increasingly uncertain of Simon's odd mood. A deep foreboding swept over her as she peered up at him through her spectacles. He looked very dangerous suddenly; a dragon had invaded the south garden, a dragon looking for prey.

"Last night," Emily said slowly, "you said that for us the pleasures of the marriage bed would be unique. You told me they would be connected to the pure and noble passions of the metaphysical realm. That our union took place on the transcendental plane as well as on the physical plane. Surely that sort of relationship is very special and should be nurtured and cherished, my lord?"

Anger crackled in Simon's golden eyes. "For God's sake, Emily, even you cannot be that naive. What took place between us last night had nothing whatsoever to do with any damn transcendental plane. It was a matter of simple lust."

"Simon, you cannot mean that. You yourself explained about the connection between the physical and the metaphysical realms." She blushed but did not lower her gaze. She knew she was fighting for something very important now. "Our passions are transcendent in nature. Remember how you described the way our lovemaking in the physical world was bound to enhance our communication in the metaphysical realm?"

"Emily, you are an intelligent woman in many respects…"

She smiled tremulously. "Why, thank you, Simon."

"But at times you talk like a complete twit. I went through all that nonsense about the mystical connection between the physical and the metaphysical realms purely to ease your maidenly fears of the marriage bed. Perfectly normal fears, I might add, given your lack of experience."

"I was not afraid of your lovemaking, my lord. And I am not without some experience, if you will recall."

"Of course you were anxious," he snapped. "It was very obvious. Unanxious brides do not leave notes for their bridegrooms. They are waiting in bed where they are supposed to be. And as for your much-vaunted experience, my dear, it is a joke. You are hardly a woman of the world. If you had really had any notion of relations between men and women, you would have been waiting for me in your bed last night, not scribbling in your journal."

"But, Simon, I explained I was concerned for you. I did not want you to feel obligated in any way to perform your duties."

Simon slashed the riding crop through the air and severed the blooms from two daffodils. "Hell and damnation, woman. You were anxious about the unknown and in your anxiety you invented all that ridiculous, high-minded nonsense about not wanting to impose on me. The plain truth; Emily, is that you needed to be reassured and I told you what you wanted to hear."

She bit her lip. "So you lied to me about wanting to enhance our unique metaphysical communication?"

"Emily, I did what I had to do in order to calm your bridal fears. We got the business over and done in a reasonable fashion and there is now no chance of an annulment."

"That is all you cared about? Making certain there would be no grounds for an annulment this morning?" she asked softly. "You did not feel that last night we were both cast adrift on love's transcendent golden shore?"

"Bloody hell. For God's sake, woman, will you cease prattling on about romance and metaphysics? I have had enough of your romantical nonsense. This is a marriage, not a verse from an epic poem. It is time you faced reality. You are no longer a Faringdon. You are now my wife. We shall manage to deal comfortably with each other if you keep that fact uppermost in your mind at all times."

"I am hardly likely to forget it, Simon."

"See that you don't," he said, his golden eyes blazing. "Emily, it is time you understood that I require one thing above all else from you."

"You require my love?" A spark of foolish hope still burned within her, Emily realized with chagrin.

"No, Emily," Simon said brutally. "What I require from you—what I will have from you at all costs—is your complete and unwavering loyalty. You are now the Countess of Blade. You are a Traherne. You are no longer a Faringdon. Is that entirely clear?"

The last, tiny flicker of hope died. "You make yourself very clear, my lord."

Emily turned away from the man she loved with all her heart and walked alone toward the big house. She resisted the urge to glance back over her shoulder as she slipped through the door. Tears burned in her eyes as she hurried upstairs to her bedchamber.

She would have to leave, of course. Her dreams and hopes had all been shattered. She could not possibly stay here as Simon's wife. To do so would make a mockery of all her pure and noble passions.

It would be utterly unbearable to look at Simon every day and know that he felt nothing important for her. Even more unthinkable to have him come to her at night and, as her father had so crudely stated, rut on her like a stallion covering a mare.

The tears spilled through her lashes at that last thought. She had to get away immediately. Emily rushed into her bedchamber and began choosing the items of clothing she would take with her when she fled St. Clair Hall.