"What the devil are you talking about?" Simon glowered at the figure in the chair.

"Celeste says that's what happened in London. She says all the young ladies on the marriage mart, including Lucinda Canonbury, were quite terrified of you and of the possibility that you would make an offer of marriage."

"I never noticed any of the silly chits having the vapors when I walked into a ballroom," Simon muttered. He had been informed, of course, that the Canonbury girl had fainted, but he had not actually noticed at the time. The ballroom had been quite crowded.

Emily giggled in the darkness. "I told Celeste it was all a lot of fustian. I am quite certain all the young ladies on the marriage mart were completely enthralled by you and you probably piqued them terribly by failing to even notice them."

It occurred to Simon that Emily still apparently had no real inkling of the reputation he enjoyed in town. As usual, she had romanticized the situation.

"You are quite right," he said evenly. "It is all a lot of nonsense." A thought struck him. He toyed with it for a moment and then made his decision. "Emily, would you like to go to London?"

"Oh, yes. Very much. But do you think I ought to do so? Papa always said I must not go into town too frequently lest someone mention the scandal in my past. I would not want to embarrass you, Simon."

"There is no longer a scandal in your past, Emily."

"There isn't?" She sounded confused.

"No. I have informed the few people, including Lord and Lady Gillingham and Prendergast, who know something of your little adventure five years ago that it is never again to be mentioned. That goes for you, as well. As far as you are concerned, Emily, there was no scandal."

"But, Simon—"

"We will not discuss it. There is nothing to discuss. And if anyone attempts to discuss it, you are to tell me immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but, Simon, I really think—"

He softened briefly. "I know you cling to the memory of the Unfortunate Incident as one of your life's more thrilling moments, but I believe I can provide you with even more exciting moments to remember."

"Well, I thought so, too," she said candidly. "That is why I asked you to marry me. But now I am not so certain. I seem to have made a large mistake."

"Your only mistake, my dear, is in thinking you can manage me the way you manage your business affairs. I am not so easily controlled, madam."

"What a ghastly thing to say."

"It is the truth. But we shall soon remedy the problem. You will come to me and apologize very prettily for setting yourself against me. Then you will plead with me to take you back into my bed and that will be the end of it."

"Bloody hell, it will."

"I believe we were discussing a trip to London."

"We were discussing your insufferable arrogance," she retorted.

"We shall leave for town as soon as practicable."

"Why?" Emily demanded. "Why must we suddenly rush off to London?"

"Because," Simon said, thinking of the profound gratitude of the Marquess and Marchioness of Northcote, "I believe this would be a most opportune time for you to enter Society." Northcote, like Peppington and Canonbury, was now vulnerable at last. The marquess could be useful and Simon fully intended to use him and his lady to introduce Emily into Society.

Emily was silent for a long moment. "Do you really think so, Simon?"

He smiled again to himself. "Yes." He pushed back the covers and stood up. "Now, I find I am getting quite cold and uncomfortable. I must insist you come to bed and bring that blanket with you."

Emily sat up in alarm as he moved toward her, clutching at the blanket. She peered warily up at him in the shadows. "I have told you, I will not allow you to make love to me, Simon."

He reached down and scooped her out of the chair. "You may relax, my dear. This is a matter of practical comfort and health. I gave you my word I would not force myself on you." He stood her on her feet and began methodically and efficiently stripping off her clothing.

"Hah! Do you think I will beg you to make love to me once you get me into your bed?" she challenged as she batted ineffectually at his hands. "Do you believe I am so weak-willed?"

"You are not weak-willed, my sweet." Simon dropped the carriage gown over the chair, leaving Emily in only a thin muslin shift. "You are high-spirited, passionate, and impulsive. It is not at all the same thing."

Emily stopped slapping at his hands and looked up at him, squinting to see his face more clearly. "Do you really think so, Simon?"

He grinned briefly as he picked her up and carried her over to the bed. "I am quite certain of it, my dear. And even though you are presently annoyed with me, I know you would not wish me to freeze to death tonight. As we cannot both use the blanket unless we share the bed, we have no choice. You must join me."

Emily sighed in resignation and slithered quickly under the sheet. She lay rigidly on the far right edge of the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Simon got in beside her. "Very well. For the sake of our health, I will agree to share the bed. But you are not to make love to me, Simon."

"Do not concern yourself, Emily. I shall not pounce upon you in your sleep. I am content to wait until you come to me."

"That will not happen until I am convinced that what you feel for me is akin to what I felt for you until you broke my heart last night," she vowed.

"We shall see, madam wife. In the meantime, I suggest you get some sleep. You have had a very busy day."

"It was all rather exciting," she admitted, yawning. "I must say, it was very romantic of you to come after me the way you did. I feel there is hope for us, Simon."

His jaw set. "Because I followed you? Do not pin too many romantical hopes on that fact. I came after you because you belong to me and I keep what is mine. Do not ever forget that again, Emily."

There was silence from the other side of the bed. Simon waited for some acknowledgment of his stern admonition. When none was forthcoming he turned on his side and looked at Emily.

She had fallen fast asleep.

Simon watched her in the shadows for a moment and then he carefully gathered her close. Without waking, Emily snuggled against him as if she had slept in his arms for years.

A few minutes later, Simon, too, fell asleep.

Chapter 11

Simon looked up from the papers on his desk at the sound of loud commotion out in the hall. Apparently his aunt and Emily had returned from their shopping expedition. Curious about the results of the foray to Oxford Street, Simon stood up and crossed the lair full of jeweled dragons. He opened the library door and smiled in amusement at the sight that greeted him.

The two footmen were hastening to fetch a vast quantity of parcels from the carriage that stood at the bottom of the steps. Emily, dressed in one of the pastel morning gowns she had brought with her from the country, was dashing about giving orders in an excited voice. Her red curls were partially concealed under a flower-trimmed straw bonnet and she had her spectacles perched slightly askew on her nose.

Lady Araminta Merryweather stood aside to watch the scene, obviously as amused as Simon.

"Please take it all straight upstairs," Emily said, inspecting each package as it came out of the carriage. "Tell Lizzie she is to unpack everything immediately. I shall come up at once and just make certain all is in order. Oh, do be careful with that, Harry. It's the most beautiful parasol you have ever seen. It's got little green and gold dragons all over it."

"Aye, ma'am," Harry said, giving his mistress a broken-toothed grin that had been known to make grown men flee in terror. "No need to sass. I'll look after it as if it were something I'd snaffled for meself."