"Thank you, Simon."
"It would be well for you to remember, elf, that this is the one and only favor I ever intend to do for a Faringdon."
"I understand," Emily said softly. "And I shall be forever grateful."
"I do not particularly want your gratitude," Simon told her.
"What do you want?"
"Assurance that you will never again get yourself into a scrape like this. You could have been robbed, raped, or killed tonight, Emily. Sending George to hire a villain was a monumentally stupid notion."
She tightened her grip on her shawl as they stepped back out onto the path. "Yes, my lord."
"Furthermore, in future, you are not to—" Simon broke off with an oath as Lizzie cried out at the sight of them and rushed toward her mistress.
"There you are, ma'am. Thank the sweet Lord. I was so worried. I was afraid you'd been carried off and ravished and I did not know what on earth I was going to tell his lordship when he asked about you and it would have been hard to keep him from knowing you was gone. Sooner or later he would have been bound to notice and—" Lizzie halted abruptly as she realized who it was standing next to Emily.
"You are quite right," Simon said coldly. "Sooner or later I would have been bound to notice if her ladyship had been carried off."
"Oh, sir." Lizzie gave a jerky little curtsy and stared at Simon in shock. "Tis you, sir."
"Very observant of you. And if you do not wish to find yourself on the street looking for a new position without benefit of references, you will endeavor to make certain that in future her ladyship never promenades along the Dark Walk alone again."
"Yes, sir." Lizzie looked terrified now.
Emily gave her husband a chiding look. "Simon, do stop frightening the poor girl. As for you, Lizzie, stop sniffling and collect yourself. All is well. His lordship was on to my scheme right from the start. Was that not brilliant of him?"
"Yes, ma'am." Lizzie cast an uncertain glance at Simon's forbidding face. "Brilliant."
"And now," Emily said cheerfully, "you will go straight home in the carriage, Lizzie. His lordship and I must be off. We have business to attend to tonight. Do not wait up for me."
"A moment, if you please, madam," Simon drawled. "There seems to be some misunderstanding here. You will be going straight home with your maid."
"But, Simon, this was all my idea and I want to see it through to the end."
"You have involved me now and when I am involved in a plan, I prefer to be in charge. You are going home. I will walk you out of the gardens and put you into the carriage myself."
"But, Simon, you will need me with you."
"This is men's business."
"This is my brother we are talking about," she said desperately.
"You have turned the problem over to me to resolve."
Emily ignored him and plunged into a detailed explanation of why she simply had to accompany him while he set about rescuing Charles but she might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Simon was implacable and unswervable.
Several minutes later she found herself bundled into the carriage together with Lizzie. Simon closed the door and gave his coachman strict instructions to drive straight home. Then he swung around and walked off into the night without looking back.
"Bloody hell." Emily flounced on the seat, snapped her fan in annoyance, and then, with a small sigh, surrendered to the inevitable.
After a moment she smiled in relief. Everything would be all right now. The dragon was in charge.
Simon walked up the steps of the lodgings shared by the Faringdon twins with mixed emotions. He rapped on the door. It was opened almost at once by one of the twins, who stared at him in bemusement.
"I believe you are Devlin. Is that correct?" Simon asked laconically.
Devlin collected himself. "Yes, my lord. What the devil are you doing here, Blade?"
"An excellent question. One I am still asking myself, in fact. May I come in?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so." Devlin moved reluctantly back from the doorway.
"Thank you," Simon said dryly. He stepped into the room and tossed his hat, coat, and gloves to the manservant.
Charles Faringdon belatedly realized who had come calling and half rose from the chair near the fire.
"Blade. Why in God's name have you come at this hour?"
"Emily tells me you are to fight a duel with Grayley." Simon went to warm his hands in front of the fire.
Charles shot a scathing look at his twin. "I told you that you should never have brought her here today. Now she's gone and blathered the whole tale to him."
"I had to give her a chance to say farewell to you," Devlin protested. "I had no choice."
"You should never have said a damn thing. This is a private matter." Charles slumped back in the chair.
"I agree that it would have been far more convenient all the way around if you had simply arranged to get yourself killed." Simon told him. "But as you have involved Emily, I have no choice but to become involved."
"This is none of your affair," Charles muttered, staring broodingly into the flames.
"Ah, but it is. You have alarmed Emily and upset her greatly. I cannot allow that; therefore, I must do something about the situation." Simon pinned Charles with a grim look. "Now, suppose you tell me the whole story so that I can decide what needs to be done."
"It's a matter of honor," Charles growled, slanting Simon a sidelong glance. "A woman's honor."
"Since when have you become overly concerned about protecting a woman's honor?"
There was a deathly silence before Charles said slowly, "Devlin and I have done some thinking since that day you knocked us about in your library."
"Have you, indeed?" Simon gazed into the flames.
"He is right, sir," Devlin said quietly. "We have discussed the matter at length. You were correct. We should have called Ashbrook out after he ran off with our sister."
Simon considered that. "Strictly speaking, it was your father's task."
"Yes, well, whatever. It did not feel right to do nothing about it at the time but father said—" Devlin broke off abruptly, shrugging.
"Father said the damage was done and there was no sense getting killed over the matter," Charles finished quietly. "And Emily agreed. She claimed it was all her fault in the first place."
"Which it probably was, knowing Emily," Devlin said, picking up his brandy. "But Charles and I have decided that was neither here nor there. The least we could have done was to have thrashed Ashbrook."
"Yes." Simon studied the golden flames. He was beginning to see the problem. Apparently he had only himself to blame for this mess. "So an opportunity has come along to allow at least one of you to redeem yourself in your own eyes and you grabbed it. Who is the lady?"
"I cannot tell you that, sir," Charles said stiffly.
"I understand your reluctance, but I am afraid I must insist. I never make a move until I have all the information it is possible to obtain. And I hardly see that telling me matters a great deal at this juncture. After all, Grayley apparently knows and that is the main problem."
"He's right, Charles," Devlin said morosely. "Tell him."
"Maryann Matthews," Charles said.
Simon nodded. "A pleasant enough chit. Family comes from Yorkshire, I believe."
"Exactly, sir. I intend to marry her," Charles said somewhat defiantly.
Simon shrugged. "That is your affair. How did the girl come to get herself insulted?"