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."
There were a few other things broken and missing on the beefy ex-pirate besides some teeth. The list included a broken nose that had never healed properly and a missing left hand that had been replaced by a vicious-looking hook. Due to the footman's unpredictable effect on visitors, Greaves did not allow him to serve at the dinner table on the rare occasions when Blade entertained at home. But when the butler, on Simon's orders, had cautiously assigned Harry to serve the new lady of the house, Emily had been completely unperturbed by the hook. Harry had been won over instantly.
"Thank you, Harry. That is very kind of you." Emily gave the footman a brilliant, grateful smile.
Simon watched Harry blush and stammer like a schoolboy and wondered fleetingly if Emily understood that snaffled was thieves' cant for stolen.
Emily turned a delighted face toward Lady Merryweather. "I have had an absolutely thrilling morning, Araminta. How can I ever thank you?"
"It was my pleasure, Emily." Araminta stood back as an especially large box was brought into the hall.
"Gracious, do have a care, George," Emily instructed the other footman as he carted a parcel up the steps and through the door. She hurried over to check anxiously on the condition of the box. "It came from Madam Claude's and it is the cleverest little hat in the world." She caught sight of Simon lounging in the doorway and her eyes brightened. "Wait until you see it, my lord. The hat is à la militaire, and I have ordered a beautiful riding habit to accompany it. It will have epaulets and frogging and all sorts of military details and it will be positively dashing."
"I look forward to seeing you in it," Simon said gravely.
George, the footman, a hatchet-faced individual who had led a boisterous life on the rough docks of the Far East, headed for the stairs cradling the precious hatbox as if it were a baby.
Emily spotted yet another parcel being unloaded and scurried forward to supervise. "These are my new half boots," she told Simon over her shoulder. "I also bought several pairs of slippers and pumps. It was a fearful expense but your aunt said I must have a different pair for every gown."
Simon folded his arms across his chest and cocked a brow at his fashionable aunt. "Lady Merryweather would know."
Araminta gave him a serene smile.
"I also got several fans and four new reticules," Emily called back over her shoulder as she flew up the stairs. "I shall be down in a few minutes."
She vanished at the turn on the landing, the pale skirts of her gown sailing out behind her.
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."