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."