"About what? To whom?" Emily was frantic now, trying to understand the note of strain in her father's voice. This sounded worse than just a horrific loss at the tables.
A dark shadow loomed at Broderick Faringdon's elbow. "Your papa made the mistake of talking to me, Lady Blade," said a familiar, sardonic voice.
"Mr. Crofton?" Emily turned vague eyes toward the dark shadow. A sense of dread now gripped her as she made a violent effort to collect herself. "I am afraid I do not understand. What is going on here?"
Crofton moved closer, his voice lowering to a slimy, confidential tone. "Your father and I have become close friends of late. He was most distressed after his defeat at the tables, Lady Blade. I am certain you comprehend and sympathize with how he must have felt as he contemplated how he would pay his debts of honor. He went through several bottles, I fear, and in the end he let slip the news about the rather appalling scandal in your past."
Emily's mouth went dry. She stared at her father. "Papa?"
"It's true, girl," Faringdon said morosely. "God help me, but I told him about the Unfortunate Incident. I was drunk as a lord, you know. And a trifle overset by my losses. I know you'll understand. But the thing is, he's threatened to spread it around town if I don't pay up."
"I fear the unsavory gossip about his wife's past will have the rather unpleasant effect of ruining Blade socially," Crofton murmured. "He will be cut by virtually everyone and will no doubt be obliged to quit town and retire to the country. And I do not think he will thank you for that, my dear."
"He will more likely destroy you for that, Mr. Crofton," Emily said fiercely.
"But the damage will be done. People will talk. Think of the scandal that will ensue, the slur on Blade's title, the humiliation he will be forced to endure. Your husband has fought hard for the power and position he presently holds, madam. But he has made enemies along the way. There are those who hate him and will not hesitate to use the scandal in your past to bring him down. And it will be all your fault, Lady Blade."
Emily felt nauseous but she kept her features as expressionless as possible as she peered up at the dark, hovering blur that was Crofton's face. "You do not value your life very highly, Mr. Crofton?" she inquired coldly.
"Do not threaten me with your husband's temper, madam. It is a bluff. I do not think you will allow things to come to such a pass. That would be letting them go too far and the damage would be done, would it not?"
"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.