Scandal by Amanda Quick
Araminta gave Simon a laughing look as he ushered her into the library. “She is charming, Simon. Utterly charming. And she will be quite an original when she is properly dressed. She still needs to be reminded to take off her spectacles when she is in public, and those red curls need taming with a pair of shears, but I can already predict the end result will be quite spectacular.”
“I leave it all in your hands, Aunt. But see that she is not allowed to put any of those foul concoctions made of mercury water, lead, or sulfer on her face in an effort to cover up the freckles.”
“You need not worry. I am a great believer in homemade cosmetics made from herbal ingredients. I take it you like the freckles?”
“Yes,” said Simon. “I do.”
Araminta chuckled. “I should have guessed that when you finally chose a wife, you would pick something quite out of the ordinary. I still cannot believe she is a Faringdon.”
“She is not a Faringdon. Not any longer.” Simon closed the door very firmly and crossed to his desk.
Araminta gave him a sharp glance as she sat down on one of the ornate black lacquer chairs and stripped off her gloves. “She seems to think she is not yet entirely your wife, either. Where does that leave her?”
“She said something about not being my wife?” Simon asked sharply.
“Not precisely. Just something to the effect that she does not feel in total harmony with you yet. I believe there was some vague comment about the two of you existing on different celestial planes at the moment or some such nonsense. What on earth is going on, Simon?”
Simon relaxed. “Nothing that need concern you. Emily often expresses herself in rather odd ways. She is very fond of romantic literature.”
“I have noticed. I heard a great deal about an epic called The Mysterious Lady which she is apparently working on. Have you read it?”
“I am told it is not yet ready to be read,” Simon said dryly.
“She is quite amazing, you know. She already knows the names of everyone on your staff and they obviously adore her. Perhaps you should caution her against becoming too familiar with this band of cutthroats and rogues you brought back with you from the East.”
Simon was unconcerned. “Everyone on my staff understands that he would answer directly to me if he so much as looked at her in an improper fashion. In any event, none of them is about to harm a single hair on her head. She has already started to discuss several investment schemes for them with my butler. They are all quite fascinated by the notion of making so much money legally.”
“Good heavens. Investments? For staff?”
“Yes, I know. It is quite a novel thought, is it not?”
Araminta shook her head in wonder. “As I said, a complete original. Wait until you see the gowns she had ordered, Simon.”
“She appears to favor modestly cut gowns and soft, pale shades,” Simon said, reflecting with approval on Emily’s country wardrobe.
“Not any longer.” Araminta grinned. “Henceforth she might as well be wearing your livery when she goes out in public, Simon. Everything we ordered today is to be made up in what she calls dragon colors.”
Simon looked at his aunt. “Dragon colors?”
“Gold, green, black, and red, for the most part.” Araminta glanced around the exotically decorated library. “I cannot imagine where she got the notion for such unusual hues. And all the motifs for embroidery, trim, and jewelry design are going to appear quite familiar.”
“Dragons?”
“For the most part. Emily has decided upon her own personal style and she apparently plans to immerse herself in it.” Araminta gave Simon a speculative glance. “As I said, she might as well be wearing your livery or flying a flag that proclaims her your personal property. You do realize, of course, that everyone will be bound to notice?”
Simon smiled with satisfaction. “I see no problem in that. Araminta, can you have her ready for her first ball by Friday?”
Araminta straightened alertly in her chair. “I believe so. Have you begun receiving invitations already?”
Wordlessly Simon handed her the card that had arrived that morning. He watched the startled look appear in his aunt’s eyes when she read it.
“The Marquess and Marchioness of Northcote’s ball,” Araminta breathed in awed tones. “Simon, this is wonderful. What a coup for us. It is the perfect place to introduce Emily to the ton. Once it is known she has been entertained by Lady Northcote, all doors will be open to her.”
“It should serve its purpose,” Simon agreed laconically.
“It certainly will serve to launch Emily properly. But, Simon, how did this come about? You and Northcote are hardly friends. Not after what happened all those years ago. Why would his wife undertake to introduce your wife to Society?”
“Through a rather odd circumstance, their daughter and Emily have become fast friends. In addition, the marquess and his lady find themselves grateful to Emily.”
“Grateful? Simon, what is going on here?”
“I am merely arranging for my wife to make a comfortable entrance into Society. If Northcote had not made things convenient, I would have found another means of accomplishing the same end.”
“Really?” Araminta gave him an assessing glance. “Who would you have used if Lady Northcote had not come forward?”
Simon considered briefly and shrugged. “Peppington or Canonbury, no doubt. I am certain either one could have persuaded their ladies to be cooperative.”
“Two more old enemies.” Araminta stared at him. “Good lord, Simon. I begin to perceive what is happening here. I have heard rumors about your present connection with Peppington and Canonbury. They are both dangling on your strings, I am told. There are rumors that each is facing financial disaster. What is the real story?”
“I doubt you would be interested, Araminta. A dull business involving some mining investments, a canal, and some bad judgment on the part of Canonbury and Peppington.”
“Ah, Simon,” Araminta said, slowly shaking her head, “people are right when they call you mysterious and dangerous. Three of the most important men in London are in your pocket. You have them all, now, don’t you? Northcote, Canonbury, Peppington, and Faringdon. You are playing cat and mouse with each of them.”
“It is a game I learned well in the East.”
Araminta shuddered delicately. “I vow, I am very glad I am on your good side, Simon. You make my blood run cold at times. But I do not think your lady elf understands that she is only a pawn in your grand scheme. She is still talking in terms of creating a pure and noble metaphysical connection with her new husband.”
Simon scowled. “Emily is a very intelligent female but her thinking is frequently clouded by romantical nonsense. She will soon learn her proper role as a wife.”
Emily plunged into the glamour, excitement, and sophistication of her first major town ball with zest. The glittering chandeliers, the crush of people dressed in the first stare of fashion, the dancing, and the witty conversation all left her breathless and enthralled. It seemed to her that everyone in the haute ton must have been invited to the marchioness’s grand event.
Dressed in an emerald green silk gown cut far lower than anything she had ever worn before in her life, Emily felt marvelously fashionable. She had green satin slippers embroidered with little gold dragons to match her gown and she was wearing a delightful little gold dragon in her newly styled hair. The dragon’s eyes were tiny rubies. Two matching dragons dangled from her ears.
Lady Merryweather’s hairdresser had pulled Emily’s red curls back into an artful cascade that fell from the crown of her head to the nape of her neck. There were several artfully arranged tendrils curling down the sides of her cheeks. The whole was finished off with an elegant fan featuring a spectacular hand-painted dragon that dangled on a gold cord from her wrist, and a quizzing glass. Lady Merryweather had refused to even contemplate the notion of wearing spectacles to a formal ball.
Simon had been wait
“Will you be joining us later, Simon?” Araminta had inquired as she was handed up into the carriage.
“I am going to my club for an hour or so but I will find you both later and escort you home.” He looked at Emily as he helped her into the vehicle. “Enjoy yourself, elf. You are definitely a diamond of the first water tonight. And definitely the most unusual creature Society will have seen in an age. You will set the polite world agog.”
Emily glowed. “Thank you, Simon.”
His mouth quirked as he closed the carriage door. “See that you do not get into any trouble.”
Emily sat back in the carriage seat as they set off. “I do not know why he feels obliged to say things like that all the time. What sort of trouble could I possibly get into at Northcote’s ball?”
Araminta smiled. “Sometimes I get the impression Blade does not always know quite what to expect from you, Emily. I think that is a good thing, on the whole. He needs to be rattled about a bit now and then.”
“Nothing rattles Simon,” Emily said with pride. “He is the coolest man I have ever met.”
“Yes,” Araminta said, looking out the window at the crowded street. “He does have that reputation. Some say it goes beyond cool all the way to cold-blooded. Some people are actually afraid of him.”
“They must be people who do not know him well,” Emily said confidently.
“Oh? And you do know him well?”
“Yes, indeed. As I have told you, we communicate on a higher plane.” Emily frowned thoughtfully. “Sometimes. Perhaps people are a bit put off by his unusual staff. They are somewhat forbidding in appearance, although extremely pleasant and most interesting. I wonder where Simon obtained them.”
Araminta smiled slightly. “You do realize what it was Simon did for the East India Company, don’t you, Emily?”
“It is my understanding that he assisted them in some business matters and the company was suitably grateful.”
“Grateful, indeed. His function was to discourage the pirates who are a constant threat to the company’s ships. Simon used a most unusual approach to the problem.”
Emily laughed softly. “Let me hazard a guess. Did he by any chance recruit ex-pirates to deal with the practicing pirates?”
“That is exactly what he did.”
“Brilliant notion,” Emily said with satisfaction. “And a few of them returned to England with him as his servants.”
“If you can call them that,” Araminta said dryly.
Celeste and her mother were all that was charming and welcoming. They introduced Emily to everyone and people lined up to meet her. Araminta explained during a brief lull in the introductions that it was because Society was fascinated to learn just what sort of exotic female the mysterious Earl of Blade had married. Emily had giggled behind her fan at the notion of being thought exotic.
Emily’s exuberant mood lasted right up until the moment when she raised her quizzing glass for a quick look around and happened to spot Richard Ashbrook coming toward her. She froze for an instant as old memories rose to confront her.
He was Lord Ashbrook now, she thought as she quickly allowed the glass to drop to her waist on its velvet cord. Ashbrook had become a baron since she had last seen him five years ago.
He had always been quite handsome but now he was the perfect picture of the romantic poet, with his artistically tousled dark curls, intense, brooding gaze, and elegant figure. She noted that during the past few years he had achieved just the precise curl of lip that implied the appropriate mixture of jaded ennui mixed with cynicism. Emily did not find the look particularly attractive. But, then, she suddenly realized, she did not find Ashbrook very interesting at all any longer.
Next to the dragon who had entered her life, Ashbrook was nothing more than a somewhat amusing pet dog. Emily wondered what she had ever seen in him.
“’Tis Ashbrook,” Celeste whispered excitedly. “Mama said she had invited him but I was afraid he would not come. He has the entree into any drawing room or ballroom in town and it is very difficult to entice him. He claims soirees and balls bore him.”
Emily was about to reply but Ashbrook was suddenly in front of her, mouth twisted into an ironic smile, dark eyes veiled beneath half-lowered lids. His snowy white cravat was tied in a sculptured knot.
“Hello, Emily,” Ashbrook said softly.
“Richard.” Emily gave him her hand and wondered again why she’d once found him irresistible. After knowing a dragon, Ashbrook seemed quite tame.
“It has been a long time.” Ashbrook bent his dark head gallantly over her wrist.
“Emily, you did not tell me you knew the baron,” Celeste said.
“Lady Blade and I are old friends,” Ashbrook said smoothly without taking his eyes off Emily. “Is that not so, Emily?”
“Acquaintances,” Emily amended tartly. “Now, if you will excuse me, Richard—”
“Surely you will not be so cruel as to dismiss me without giving me the honor of a dance. Lady Northcote has allowed one waltz this evening, I am told, and I believe this is it.”
“But, I—”
It was too late. Ashbrook was already leading her out onto the dance floor. His arm went boldly around her waist and Emily was swept up into the delightfully scandalous music of the waltz. It was a dance perfectly suited to a woman of excessive passions. Emily just wished Simon were her partner.
“You have changed, Emily.”
“Not that much, Richard. Honestly, you make it sound as if I had turned into a different sort of creature altogether.”
“Yes,” he mused. “You have truly metamorphosed into a being of ethereal light and radiant beams, a creature who dwells on other planes, it seems.”
“Richard, are you quoting yourself, by any chance?”
“A line or two from The Hero of Marliana. Have you read it?”
“No,” Emily said crisply, “I have not.”
Ashbrook nodded understandingly. “Too painful for you, I imagine. Do you ever think of us, Emily?”
“Rarely.”
He smiled whimsically. “I think of you often, my dear. And of what I lost forever five years ago.”
“I lost something, too,” Emily reminded him.
“Your heart?”
“My reputation.”
Ashbrook looked briefly irritated. “The incident apparently did not affect your marriage prospects. You have done very well for yourself, Emily. An earl, no less. And a very exotic and rather dangerous one, at that.”
“Blade is not dangerous,” she said impatiently. “I cannot imagine where everyone has gotten that impression of him.”
“You, I take it, do not go in fear of your husband?”
“Of course not. I would never have married him if I had been afraid of him,” she retorted.
“Why did you marry him, Emily?”
“We are twin souls who communicate on a higher plane,” she explained. “We share a mystical, transcendental union.”
“You and I once shared that sort of communication,” Ashbrook reminded her in a meaningful tone.
“Hah! Not bloody likely. I was much younger then and did not know the true meaning or nature of a metaphysical union.”
“And that is what you enjoy with your husband? Forgive me, but I find it difficult to believe Blade is capable of such refined sensibilities.”
“Well, we are working on it,” Emily mumbled. “It takes a while to develop perfect transcendent communication, you know.”
“With us, it was instantaneous, as I recall. At least on my part.”
“Is that so, my lord?” Emily lifted her chin proudly. “Then why did you presume to attack me that night at the inn, pray tell?”
Ashbrook came to an abrupt halt on the dance floor, took her wrist, and pulled her out through the open windows into the garden. T
“I did not attack you,” he said brusquely. “I came to you that night because you had led me to believe our hearts were already forever joined in a nonphysical connection. I thought you were already one with me in the metaphysical realm and wished to be one with me in the physical realm, also. If we had spent the night together you would have learned the truth of a true, transcendent union.”
Emily’s brows drew together in a quelling frown as she recalled her wedding night. “I have heard the theory that what happens on one plane affects what happens on the other plane, Richard. I may as well tell you, I have serious doubts about the validity of that philosophy.”
“Perhaps your grasp of metaphysical science is not as fully developed as it could be,” Ashbrook said. “Tell me, Emily, do you still dabble in poetry?”
She hesitated. “As it happens, I am working on an epic poem at the moment.”
Ashbrook was amused. “Going to give me some competition, eh?”
Emily felt herself grow pink with embarrassment. Whatever else he might be, Ashbrook was a published poet and she had never published so much as a single verse. “Hardly,” she muttered.
“What are you calling this epic?”
“The Mysterious Lady.”
“It sounds promising,” Ashbrook allowed thoughtfully.
Emily looked up quickly, raising her quizzing glass to see his expression. “Do you really believe so?”
“Definitely.” Ashbrook paused with a deliberate air. “Excellent title. Quite suited to the sort of people who buy that kind of thing. Do you know, Emily, I might be able to take a look at your work and see if it does, indeed, appear promising. If so, I would be happy to introduce you to my publisher, Whittenstall.”
“Richard!” Emily was stunned by the generous offer. “Do you mean it?”
“But, of course.” Ashbrook smiled with a negligent confidence. “A word from me would certainly help to get Whittenstall’s attention, I believe.”
“Richard, it would be so very kind of you. I cannot believe this is happening. I shall have to get back to work on The Mysterious Lady immediately. I have been thinking of adding a ghost and a secret passageway to the story. What do you think?”