"Mr. Crofton…"
"You will see to it that your father's debts are paid in full, Lady Blade. The whole world knows how much you adore your husband. Not to put too fine a point on the matter, you have a rather charming habit of making a complete cake out of yourself when it comes to Blade. I believe you will do whatever needs to be done to protect him from the scandal."
Emily took a deep, steadying breath. "And just how do you expect me to pay my father's debts? I receive a quarterly allowance, but that will probably not begin to cover Papa's losses."
Crofton chuckled. "Blade is said to be extremely indulgent toward you, my dear. Lord knows why, but there you have it. 'Tis an open secret. He apparently finds you amusing. I do not think it will be too difficult for you to claim the gaming losses are yours and beseech him very prettily to cover them for you. You may say you lost to Lady Malcolm or to Bridgeton's wife. They are both noted for deep play."
"Are you mad?" Emily breathed. "He would easily uncover such a lie."
"If you do not fancy the notion of coaxing the ready out of your husband in that manner, try a more feminine approach. Blade is, as I mentioned, said to be indulgent with you. You may have more success wheedling a diamond necklace or a string of pearls out of him. You can have it copied and sell the original to a discreet jeweler."
"That would never work. Blade would recognize the copy the first time I wore it. He has an excellent eye for such things."
"Then you must be more creative, madam, if you would save your husband from humiliation and scandal. Let me see. Perhaps a simple bit of theft will work best."
"Theft?"
"Yes, why not? I have heard tales of the fabulous collection of jeweled dragons Blade is reputed to have brought back with him from the East Indies. They say he has statues of the beasts sitting casually around his library and that each one is worth a fortune. Who would notice one missing? And even if it was missed it would be simple enough to blame the loss on a servant."
"Dear God. Papa, stop him." Emily turned desperately toward her father, but she knew no help lay in that direction.
"I'm damn sorry, Em," Faringdon said, clearly unhappy about the turn of events but apparently ready to shrug aside the responsibility for them, just as he always had in the past. "None of this would have happened if you had not insisted on losing your foolish heart to Blade. I did warn you, but you had to marry the man."
"Sad, but true," Crofton agreed. "Now, then, Lady Blade, I have a notion as to how you may successfully carry out the theft with no threat of being discovered and blamed. You will wait until the night of your soiree and arrange to remove one of the dragons then. Everyone in town will be there. The house will be packed with people and extra servants. When the dragon is eventually discovered to be missing one of the extra servants can be blamed."
"But you could never pawn anything so exotic as one of Blade's dragons," Emily said quickly. "Any jeweler would be suspicious of it."
"There is no need to pawn the entire statue. I shall simply remove the stones embedded in it and sell them off one at a time." Crofton chuckled. "Yes, an excellent plan, don't you agree?"
"Bloody hell," Emily whispered as she felt the cage door close behind her.
"Such colorful language, my dear," Crofton said mockingly. "No wonder Blade finds you amusing. His tastes have always tended toward the unusual." He bowed ironically to Emily and her father. "Now, then, if you two will excuse me, I must be off to find my box. Othello is such an interesting play, is it not? The enraged husband smothering his innocent wife at the end is my favorite part. Of course in your case, Lady Blade, the situation is somewhat different. After, all, you are not so innocent."
Emily watched with seething helplessness as the dark shadow moved off into the crowd. When Crofton had vanished, she whirled to confront her father. "How dare you, Papa? How dare you do this to my husband?"
"Here, now, girl, you cannot go blaming me." Broderick Faringdon was righteously incensed at the accusation. "Blade's the one who set up the situation when he dragged you away from the bosom of your family."
"He did not drag me away, Papa, and you know it."
"'Twas those damn romantical notions of yours that made you think yourself in love with the man. No sensible female would have made such a fool of herself. This whole situation is entirely your fault, Em. I knew there was no way he could keep your soiled past a secret. He should have known it, too. In all honesty, I have to say this mess is as much his fault as it is yours. He ought to be made to pay for it, by God."
"Bloody hell." Emily swung around on the heel of her new green kid pump and walked blindly away from her father.
Hours later Emily lay alone in her bed, staring up at the embroidered canopy. She had not been able to sleep at all since she had come home from the Bridgetons'.
She had heard Simon moving about in his bedchamber an hour ago and had waited tensely for him to come to her as he did nearly every night. But he had not opened the connecting door. It was very quiet in the other chamber now. Simon must have gone to bed alone.
Emily turned on her side and pounded the pillow in frustration and anger. Her mind was in a turmoil. She still did not know how she had managed to get through the performance of Othello without letting on to Lady Northcote and Celeste that something was dreadfully wrong. At one point Celeste had been obliged to remind Emily to use her new opera glasses.
When the terrible scene came in which Othello avenged himself on his innocent wife, Emily had watched in frozen horror, Crofton's words burning in her mind. You are not so innocent
But it was not a question of innocence. It was a question of scandal. Blade had married her on the assumption that the dreadful scandal would not follow her from Little Dippington.
And now it was threatening to do precisely that.
Emily sat up and punched the pillow again. Then she shoved back the covers and got out of bed. She must find a way to save Simon from the humiliation and disgrace that would descend upon his shoulders if the social world discovered her past.
Her father was right. This whole mess was her fault. Emily began to pace the floor. She was the one who had talked Simon into offering marriage. She had done so by telling him what an excellent bargain of a wife she was. A built-in hedge against financial disaster.
Emily wanted to cry. Simon did not need insurance against a downturn in his fortunes. He needed insurance against the threat of a scandal in her past.
Emily frowned and came to a halt as a thought struck her. Insurance was precisely what was needed here. Insurance that Crofton would keep silent.
Emily started pacing again, her mind seizing on the first rational, useful thought she'd had all evening. The more she considered the problem, the more the answer became obvious.
If she was to protect Simon from scandal, she would need to insure herself of Crofton's silence. What was needed was a plan for getting rid of Crofton. Permanently.
Emily sat down abruptly in the chair near the window. Permanently sounded so very permanent. Finding some way to pay off her father's debts would not solve the problem. Crofton would always be there, threatening to ruin the power and position Simon had worked so hard to build for himself.
Emily thought about the matter for a very long time and came to the conclusion that there were really only two options available to her if she was to protect Simon from her past.
The first was to arrange to disappear forever from Simon's life and allow everyone to think she had died tragically. The problem was that she knew Simon well enough to know he would search for her until he found her or her body.
The other option was to make Crofton disappear forever.