Simon had just reached the outskirts of the throng that surrounded Emily when she sensed his presence. A murmur swept through Emily's crowd of admirers as they stepped aside to let her husband pass.

"Blade." Emily raised her quizzing glass for a quick look and then let it drop. She smiled widely in welcome, her eyes lighting up with pleasure. "I was hoping you would find time to drop by."

"I have come to beg a dance with you, my dear," Simon said as he inclined his head over her hand. "Do you by any chance have one to spare for me?"

"Do not be silly. Of course I do." She threw an apologetic glance toward a young man whose blond hair had been laboriously styled with a crimping iron. "You will not mind if we postpone our dance, will you, Armistead?"

"Not at all, Lady Blade," Armistead said, giving Simon a respectful glance.

Emily turned a laughing, eager countenance toward her husband. "There, you see, Blade? I am quite free to dance with you."

"Thank you, my dear." Simon experienced a surge of possessive satisfaction as he led Emily out onto the floor. When Emily stepped into his arms, her eyes shining, he was coolly aware that everyone in the room knew what he knew.

Emily was his.

The ton would also know that he would protect what was his.

Two days later Simon arrived home in the middle of the afternoon and was astonished to be told by his butler that his wife was entertaining three ladies in the drawing room.

"Lady Merryweather, Lady Canonbury, and Mrs. Peppington," Greaves said without any trace of expression.

"Bloody hell," Simon muttered as he stalked toward the drawing room door. "What the devil is she up to now?"

"Madam has ordered the best Lap Seng tea to be served," Greaves added in a low voice as he opened the door for his master. "Smoke was asked to prepare an assortment of sweet cakes. He is still complaining."

Simon threw his butler a scowling glance and stepped into the library. He halted at once as he took in the sight of his wife conversing easily with the wives of his two old enemies. Emily looked up and smiled at him.

"Oh, hello, Blade. Will you join us? I was just about to ring for more tea. You know Lady Canonbury and Mrs. Peppington, I believe?"

"We have met." Simon acknowledged both women with a chilling civility. They, in turn, appeared flustered and uneasy.

"Actually, I am afraid we really must be going," Lady Canonbury said, rising majestically from the settee.

"Yes, I have several other commitments this afternoon," Mrs. Peppington said quickly.

"I understand." Emily shot her husband a glowering glance as the two women hurried out into the hall.

When the door closed behind them, she calmly poured Simon a cup of tea and handed it to him as he sat down. "There was no need to frighten them away, Simon."

Araminta Merryweather chuckled. "Simon is good at that sort of thing."

Simon ignored his aunt and fixed his innocent-looking wife with his most intimidating expression. "I would be interested in knowing what you found to talk about with those two particular ladies, madam."

"Umm, yes, I imagine you would." Emily smiled winningly. "Well, my lord, the truth is, we discussed business."

"Did you, indeed?" Out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw his aunt wince at the coldness in his voice but Emily appeared not to notice. "What sort of business?"

"The mining business," Emily said. "Apparently both Lord Canonbury and Mr. Peppington have sunk considerable amounts into a mining project. They now face the prospect of getting the ore to market and have made the astonishing discovery that the canal they planned to use is privately owned. The owner will not give them a firm agreement to use the canal services. He has kept them dangling for months."

"I see."

"The canal is owned by you, my lord," Emily said pointedly. "Nothing moves on that canal without your permission. You have the power to make the entire mining project a financial disaster for Canonbury and Peppington. They are both extremely anxious about the matter. Such a loss could destroy them. They have sunk a great deal into their mining project."

Simon shrugged, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. "So?"

"So, I was just telling Lady Canonbury and Mrs. Peppington that you will no doubt decide to sell the canal to their husbands."

Simon's tea sloshed violently in the delicate china cup. Several drops spilled over the side and cascaded down onto his pristine buff-colored breeches. "Bloody hell."

Emily eyed the tea stains with concern. "Shall I ring for Greaves?"

"No, you will not ring for Greaves or anyone else." Simon slammed his cup and saucer down on the nearest table. "What the devil do you think you're doing making such promises to Lady Canonbury and Mrs. Peppington? How the hell do you expect to fulfill them?"

"She is not expecting to fulfill any promises, as she did not actually make any," Araminta said gently, her eyes dancing. "Emily is expecting you to do so, Simon."

Simon shot his aunt a furious glance before swinging his angry gaze back to Emily. His wife appeared serenely sure of herself, he noticed. Obviously he had been far too indulgent with her lately. "Well, madam? Explain yourself."

Emily delicately cleared her throat. "I am fully aware of why you wish to exact vengeance on Canonbury and Peppington, Simon. Your aunt has explained the matter and you have every right to want to punish them."

"I am glad you appreciate that fact."

"The thing is, my lord," she continued gently, "as I talked to Lady Canonbury and Mrs. Peppington, I realized that they have already suffered a great deal and there really is no need to add to their misery."

"Is that right? How, precisely, have they suffered?" Simon demanded through his teeth.

"Lord Canonbury, it seems, has a bad heart. His doctors have advised him that he may not live out the year. He has also had several severe financial losses in recent years. His only joy in life is his granddaughter. You remember her? The one who had a fit of the vapors and collapsed when you entered that ballroom?"

"I remember her."

"Poor chit was dreadfully afraid Blade was going to demand her hand in marriage as vengeance against her grandfather," Araminta murmured.

"Nonsense," Emily said. "As I told Celeste, Blade would never marry a young lady who was prone to fits of the vapors. Now, as I was saying, his granddaughter is Canonbury's greatest joy in life. He wishes to use the profits from the mining project to provide her with a suitable dowry. She will be left penniless if you ruin him, Simon. I knew you would not want the poor chit to be forced to endure the marriage mart without a decent dowry."

"Good God," Simon muttered.

"And as for Peppington, I was deeply saddened to learn that he lost his only son three years ago in a riding accident. His wife says he has not been the same since. All that keeps him going, apparently, is the knowledge that his grandson is turning out to be a fine, intelligent young man who shows a great interest in acquiring land. Peppington wants nothing more than to leave the boy a decent legacy."

"I do not see why I should have the least interest in the futures of Canonbury's granddaughter or Peppington's grandson," Simon said.

Emily smiled wistfully. "I know, my lord. In the beginning I was not particularly interested, either, but then I began to reflect upon the importance of children and grandchildren, in general, if you know what I mean."

Simon pinned her with a steady gaze. "No, I do not know what you mean. What in blazes are you talking about now?"

"Our children, my lord." Emily demurely sipped her tea.

Simon was speechless for a moment. "Our children?" he finally managed. Then the most peculiar jolt of exultation roared through him. "Are you telling me you are breeding, madam?"