Emily hoped she was right. She did not feel particularly light and airy tonight. There was a ball of lead in her stomach that seemed to be growing larger by the minute.

The Gillinghams' small ballroom was filled to the brim with the local gentry turned out in their finest. Lord and Lady Gillingham had a reputation for being kind enough to invite their less fashionable neighbors in once or twice a year. Simon's presence in their household appeared to have been an excuse for such an event. Champagne and a buffet of sweets and savories had been set out.

Simon had made himself and Emily the focal point of attention earlier when he had danced the first dance with her. Without her spectacles and lost in a romantic haze, Emily was able to ignore the many stares and curious looks she knew she and the earl had received. Simon, as usual, had not appeared to notice them either but that was because he never condescended to notice such things.

Emily could not imagine anything making a dent in Simon's calm self-confidence. That sense of inner strength and sureness that was so much a part of him could be a bit daunting at times, but it was certainly impressive.

Emily raised her quizzing glass for a few seconds and surreptitiously scanned the crowd until she spotted Simon talking to the vicar. Blade was, she decided, quite definitely the most glorious man in the room tonight. Of course, she was slightly biased. But there was no denying the fact that in his austere black and white evening attire Simon was dangerously attractive in a room that was overcrowded with brightly colored jackets and waistcoats.

"Good evening, Miss Faringdon. May I get you a glass of lemonade?"

Emily stifled a groan at the unwelcome sound of Elias Prendergast's voice. She lowered her quizzing glass, not needing any assistance in seeing the familiar fat, florid, heavily bewhiskered face.

Nor did she need her spectacles or the glass to see that the portly Mr. Prendergast had strapped himself into his corsets for the occasion. She could hear them creak when he moved.

"No, thank you," Emily murmured, thinking that what she really needed was a glass of champagne. She opened her fan and began fanning herself industriously as Prendergast leaned closer. The man smelled as if he had not bothered to bathe for the party. Prendergast was of the old school and had a strong distrust of the new fashion for frequent use of soap and water. He much preferred to utilize a quantity of perfume instead.

"Been meanin' to call on you now that I'm out of mourning, Miss Faringdon," Prendergast began with an air of importance. "Feel there is somethin' we should discuss."

Emily smiled politely. "I am persuaded that would not be at all correct, sir. Surely you will want to wait until my father is in residence."

"That's just it, damme," Prendergast said with obvious annoyance. "Yer father don't spend much time here in the country. Unpredictable in his comings and goings, ain't he?"

"He is very busy with his affairs in town. Lovely party, is it not?" Emily waved her fan in a graceful arc that took in the entire brightly lit room. "But, then, Lady Gillingham is always a gracious hostess."

Prendergast's bushy brows drew together in a scowl. He cleared his throat. Emily's heart fell. She had an awful premonition of what was coming next.

"Miss Faringdon, my dear, I feel that I am by way of being something of an adviser to you since your parent is so often absent," Prendergast said in ominous tones. "And it has come to my attention that we have a visitor in the neighborhood who has been seeing rather a lot of you lately."

"You shock me, sir. I had no idea you made it your business to pay heed to local gossip. I vow it must be very tiresome keeping up with it."

Prendergast snorted and glowered intimidatingly. It was well known that when she had been alive, Mrs. Prendergast had been a little mouse of a creature who would never have dreamed of making such a snippy remark.

"Now, see here, young lady. I am only too well aware of how a woman's head can be turned by the sort of romantical attention that Blade is lavishing upon you, Miss Faringdon, if you don't mind my saying so."

"But I do, sir. Mind your saying so, that is." Emily's smile grew bright and sharp as anger began to ignite within her. Prendergast was well on his way to spoiling what little time she had left with Simon.

Prendergast's heavy face congealed into a thunderous expression that Emily could see quite clearly without her glass.

"I speak only out of the deepest concern for your reputation, Miss Faringdon."

"Everyone knows my reputation is already beyond repair, sir. Pray do not concern yourself with it."

"Now, now, you must not be so hard on yourself," Prendergast admonished. "It's true enough that there is a nasty bit of scandal in your past. But you were young and foolish and made a mistake. These things happen to young gels. I, being a man of the world and not without some experience in schooling high-spirited females, am prepared to overlook the Incident."

"How very kind of you, sir."

"Well, yes, 'tis, rather. Blade, naturally, won't be able to do so. Got his family name and title to think of, y'know."

Emily's fingers clenched on the fan. "Pray, do not trouble yourself with any further advice, sir."

Prendergast drew himself up to his full height. He loomed over Emily, his corsets groaning. "Miss Faringdon, you once allowed your excessive passions to run way with you and in doing so brought social ruin upon yourself. Surely you have not forgotten the lessons learned on that unhappy occasion?"

"I assure you, I have forgotten nothing," Emily said through her teeth. "But you are beginning to annoy me, sir."

"Miss Faringdon, you misunderstand me. My intentions are quite honorable. I only wish to assist you by providing you with a respectable outlet for your rather high-spirited tendencies." He caught hold of her hand and crushed it between his damp, beefy palms.

"Please give me back my hand, sir." Emily tried unsuccessfully to withdraw her fingers from his sweaty grip.

Prendergast ignored her efforts, his fingers tightening painfully. He leaned closer until his bad breath and thick perfume nearly overpowered his victim. Then he lowered his voice to confidential tones.

"Miss Faringdon, I fully comprehend how difficult it must be for a woman of your high passions to be forced to be subjected to the depressing strictures of society. I feel certain that you would be far happier married. Within the sanctity of the marriage bed you would be able to give free rein to those impulses which you are now obliged to keep under control."

"Sir, if you do not let go of me this instant, I vow I will be forced to do something drastic."

But Prendergast was very intent on his mission now. "You need a man who can accommodate your excesses of emotion, my dear. I assure you I am that man. Furthermore, I intend to call upon your father at the earliest opportunity to tell him of my intentions."

"No," Emily gasped, horrified at the very thought.

"To that end," Prendergast continued as if he had not heard the alarm in her voice, "I have written him a letter informing him of the danger you are presently facing and assuring him that I will look after you until he returns to protect you from Blade's attentions."

"Attend to your own business, sir. I do not wish to be protected from his attentions."

"He is merely toying with your affections, my dear. Just as that other rake did five years ago."

Emily finally lost her temper. She folded her fan with a snap and brought it down quite sharply on the back of Prendergast's hand. The blow contained such stinging force that the sticks snapped.

"Yeow." Prendergast released her fingers abruptly, rubbing the back of his hand. The color in his plump cheeks was high. "Ah, Miss Faringdon, you are, indeed, a creature of great passions. I cannot wait until we are wed. I assure you I will manage you very well, my dear. Very well, indeed."