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as that other rake did five years ago."
    Emily finally lost her temper. She folded her fan with a snap and brought it down quite sharply on the
    back of Prendergast's hand. The blow contained such stinging force that the sticks snapped.
    "Yeow." Prendergast released her fingers abruptly, rubbing the back of his hand. The color in his plump
    cheeks was high. "Ah, Miss Faringdon, you are, indeed, a creature of great passions. I cannot wait until
    we are wed. I assure you I will manage you very well, my dear. Very well, indeed."
    "Best not hold your breath waiting for that momentous occasion," Simon advised in his cold, dark drawl.
    Emily jumped and whirled around to find that the earl had materialized at her elbow. She smiled brilliantly
    up at the dragon. He was satisfyingly large and ferocious, she thought, and he had lots of strong, white
    teeth. Furthermore, they were his own, which was more than could be said about Elias Prendergast's.
    "Hello, my lord," Emily said happily. "I trust you are enjoying yourself?"
    "Very much. I thought you might need this." He handed her a glass of champagne.
    "How very perceptive of you, sir." Emily's fingers closed gratefully around the glass.
    "Miss Faringdon prefers lemonade," Prendergast announced.
    "You are wrong." Emily took a swallow. "At the moment Miss Faringdon has a strong preference for
    champagne."
    Prendergast glowered at her unrepentant features. "We will discuss this matter further at a more
    convenient time, Miss Faringdon."
    "What matter? My preference for champagne? I assure you, there is nothing to discuss."
    "I was referring to other, more pressing concerns," Prendergast hissed. He inclined his head in a jerky
    motion. "If you will excuse me, I must speak to a friend." He took
    himself off with a great dignity that was somewhat marred by the sound of his creaking corsets.
    Emily stifled a small sigh. As obnoxious as Prendergast was, he was also right in one respect. She could
    not continue to lead Simon on any longer. She took another swallow of champagne and looked up at the
    earl. She was standing close enough to him to see that he was watching her with a familiar mocking
    amusement in his gleaming eyes.
    "It would seem I have competition for your hand," Simon murmured.
    Emily shook her head quickly, her curls bouncing. "Pay no heed to Mr. Prendergast. He has been
    something of a nuisance ever since his poor wife finally faded away. Simon, I must speak to you."
    "You have my full attention."
    "No, not here. Not now." She glanced furtively around, squinting to see if there was anyone standing too
    close. "Simon, I must speak to you in private."
    "That sounds promising."
    "I fear it is not a joking matter, my lord. Indeed, it is most serious. Please, when can I see you? This has
    gone on long enough and there are…" Emily broke off, raised her quizzing glass for another quick glance
    around, and then added in a very low, unhappy voice, "There are things you must be told."
    "Ah."
    "I have been very remiss in not informing you of these particular matters earlier in our relationship. It was
    quite cowardly of me, but I suppose I assumed someone else would perform the task for me."
    "You alarm me, my dear. I feel like a character in a Minerva Press novel. I believe I am beginning to
    tremble with the Uneasy Dread of the Unknown."
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    "My lord, you know very well that nothing could make you tremble with dread," Emily said crossly. "I
    vow this is difficult enough as it is. Please do not mock me."
    "I would not dream of it. Very well, if I am not allowed to tremble with dread, I shall muster my courage
    and meet you for this terrifying pronouncement. How about your library at, say, one o'clock this
    morning? You will be safely home by then and your servants should be in bed."
    Emily dropped her quizzing glass in shock. "My library? You mean to come to St. Clair Hall? Tonight?"
    "Can you arrange to be