toast or boast."
"Or roast," Simon offered.
Miss Hornsby, who had earlier accepted a glass of sherry instead of tea, giggled. Lavinia Inglebright shot
her a quelling frown. She opened her mouth to suggest another possible rhyme but was interrupted by the
sound of carriage wheels and horses' hooves in the drive. She looked at Emily in surprise. "I do believe
you have visitors."
Emily went very still, her glance flying to Simon's unperturbed face. She almost never had visitors and
everyone in the drawing room knew it. "My father and brothers, no doubt." So Elias Prendergast's letter
had reached London and had had the expected result. "I was not expecting them." Not now. Not so
soon.
But Simon, who obviously knew precisely what she was thinking, merely smiled his inscrutable smile and
sipped his smoky Lap Seng.
There was the stamp of booted feet in the hall, the drone of impatient masculine voices, and a moment
later the drawing room door was thrown open.
The three magnificent Faringdon men strode into the room like three gilded whirlwinds. Tall, handsome,
and dressed to the nines in the latest riding clothes, they all looked dashingly disheveled from their
journey. The twins, Devlin and Charles, quickly scanned the group for a pretty female face and, upon
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
finding none to their liking, glowered at Simon.
Broderick Faringdon, Emily's father, was losing some of his hair and what he had left was turning from
gold to silver, but he still managed to maintain the same stylish appearance as his sons. His hawklike nose
and blue eyes together with his air of raffish dissipation still made him very attractive to women.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Blade."
As the ladies murmured a rush of polite greetings, Broderick Faringdon inclined his head brusquely at
Simon.
Emily felt the sudden chill in the room. Something was very wrong. Her instincts told her there was more
going on here than a disgruntled father dealing with an unapproved suitor. Her eyes flew to Simon.
But the dragon merely acknowledged her father's greeting with a mocking inclination of his head and
went back to sipping his Lap Seng.
"Papa." Emily jumped to her feet. "You sent no word ahead. We did not know to expect you."
"I sent no word because I knew I'd be here before the post. Got a new stallion that can beat anything on
four feet. Come and give your papa a proper greeting, miss."
Dutifully, Emily went toward him and gave him the requisite peck on the cheek. Then she stepped back,
eyes narrowing. Now that the first shock was over, she was annoyed
at having her tea party interrupted. "Really, Papa, I do think you could have given me some warning."
"This is my home, girl. Why should I announce myself like a visitor?"
Behind Emily the covey of literary society ladies were quickly getting to their feet, preparing to leave.
"Really must be off," Priscilla Inglebright said. "Thank you so much for having us in this afternoon, Emily."
"Yes, a lovely treat," Miss Bracegirdle said stoutly as she picked up her reticule.
The farewells came fast and furious after that. Emily stood at the door with a determined smile on her
face while she fumed inwardly. Her father and brothers had ruined everything. Only Simon was delaying
his departure.
Out in the hall wraps were hastily donned and bonnets were quickly tied. In a moment all of the ladies
were being handed up into the carriage Emily had ordered to take them to their respective residences.
A cold, dangerous silence descended on the drawing room.
Bloody hell, thought Emily. She whirled to confront her father. "Well, Papa, to what do I owe the honor
of this rushed visit?"
"Ask Blade. I expect he knows the answer to that." Broderick Faringdon glowered at Simon, who was
calmly finishing his tea. "What the devil do you think you're about, sir?"
Simon's brows rose slightly. "I should think that was obvious, Faringdon. I
"Or roast," Simon offered.
Miss Hornsby, who had earlier accepted a glass of sherry instead of tea, giggled. Lavinia Inglebright shot
her a quelling frown. She opened her mouth to suggest another possible rhyme but was interrupted by the
sound of carriage wheels and horses' hooves in the drive. She looked at Emily in surprise. "I do believe
you have visitors."
Emily went very still, her glance flying to Simon's unperturbed face. She almost never had visitors and
everyone in the drawing room knew it. "My father and brothers, no doubt." So Elias Prendergast's letter
had reached London and had had the expected result. "I was not expecting them." Not now. Not so
soon.
But Simon, who obviously knew precisely what she was thinking, merely smiled his inscrutable smile and
sipped his smoky Lap Seng.
There was the stamp of booted feet in the hall, the drone of impatient masculine voices, and a moment
later the drawing room door was thrown open.
The three magnificent Faringdon men strode into the room like three gilded whirlwinds. Tall, handsome,
and dressed to the nines in the latest riding clothes, they all looked dashingly disheveled from their
journey. The twins, Devlin and Charles, quickly scanned the group for a pretty female face and, upon
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
finding none to their liking, glowered at Simon.
Broderick Faringdon, Emily's father, was losing some of his hair and what he had left was turning from
gold to silver, but he still managed to maintain the same stylish appearance as his sons. His hawklike nose
and blue eyes together with his air of raffish dissipation still made him very attractive to women.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Blade."
As the ladies murmured a rush of polite greetings, Broderick Faringdon inclined his head brusquely at
Simon.
Emily felt the sudden chill in the room. Something was very wrong. Her instincts told her there was more
going on here than a disgruntled father dealing with an unapproved suitor. Her eyes flew to Simon.
But the dragon merely acknowledged her father's greeting with a mocking inclination of his head and
went back to sipping his Lap Seng.
"Papa." Emily jumped to her feet. "You sent no word ahead. We did not know to expect you."
"I sent no word because I knew I'd be here before the post. Got a new stallion that can beat anything on
four feet. Come and give your papa a proper greeting, miss."
Dutifully, Emily went toward him and gave him the requisite peck on the cheek. Then she stepped back,
eyes narrowing. Now that the first shock was over, she was annoyed
at having her tea party interrupted. "Really, Papa, I do think you could have given me some warning."
"This is my home, girl. Why should I announce myself like a visitor?"
Behind Emily the covey of literary society ladies were quickly getting to their feet, preparing to leave.
"Really must be off," Priscilla Inglebright said. "Thank you so much for having us in this afternoon, Emily."
"Yes, a lovely treat," Miss Bracegirdle said stoutly as she picked up her reticule.
The farewells came fast and furious after that. Emily stood at the door with a determined smile on her
face while she fumed inwardly. Her father and brothers had ruined everything. Only Simon was delaying
his departure.
Out in the hall wraps were hastily donned and bonnets were quickly tied. In a moment all of the ladies
were being handed up into the carriage Emily had ordered to take them to their respective residences.
A cold, dangerous silence descended on the drawing room.
Bloody hell, thought Emily. She whirled to confront her father. "Well, Papa, to what do I owe the honor
of this rushed visit?"
"Ask Blade. I expect he knows the answer to that." Broderick Faringdon glowered at Simon, who was
calmly finishing his tea. "What the devil do you think you're about, sir?"
Simon's brows rose slightly. "I should think that was obvious, Faringdon. I
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