you mean. I feel certain this is what the poets refer to as a wild, sweet excess of emotion. It is rather exciting, is it not?" Emily straightened, feeling a little shy and shaky, but otherwise wonderful.
"Exciting is one word for it. I can think of a few others."
"Such as?"
"Stupid."
Emily frowned at the sardonic tone. "Is something wrong, my lord?" She groped for her spectacles because he had moved too far away to enable her to see clearly the expression in his eyes.
"Here." Impatiently he thrust the spectacles into her hands and she put them on.
Emily saw at once that Simon was scowling fiercely. "There is something wrong. What is it, my lord?"
He gave her a derisive, sidelong glance. "You ask me that? After what almost happened a moment ago?"
Emily tilted her head to one side, studying him. "You kissed me. It was wonderful. The most wonderful experience of my life. Why should anything be wrong?"
"Damn it, woman, another five minutes and we would have been… Hell. Never mind."
"Another five minutes and we would have been cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore, perhaps?"
"Good God. This is no time for poetic euphemisms." Simon glared at the quiet waters of the pond. He started to say something else and then his lips twitched. An instant later a wicked grin came and went on his hard mouth. "Cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore? From whose works did you glean that line?'"
"I invented it myself," Emily told him, not without some pride. " 'Tis a line from the epic poem I told you I am currently working on,
The Mysterious Lady
. I am still searching for the proper rhyme for 'shore.' "
"Have you tried 'bore'?"
She grinned. "Now you are teasing me. Tell me the truth, sir. What do you think of the line?"
He glanced back at her over his shoulder, golden eyes gleaming with what should have been passion but which Emily was very much afraid was amusement. "It is most apt, Miss Faringdon. Come here."
She went willingly back into his embrace but this time he merely kissed her lightly on the forehead and then on the tip of her nose before setting her a short distance away from him again. "Now, pay attention, Miss Faringdon, for I have something extremely important to say to you."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Henceforth, whenever we are threatened with being cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore, I want you to slap my face. Do you understand?"
She stared at him in shock. "I shall not do any such thing."
"Yes, you will, if you have any common sense at all."
"I am certain you would not go beyond the limits of what is proper, my lord."
"I have already gone beyond them," he said through gritted teeth, his amusement fading rapidly.
"The thing is, my lord," she said with a small, considering frown, "I am not at all certain we can rely upon my common sense in this sort of situation. I have been assured that in such matters, I do not have a great deal. Therefore, we must depend upon your sense of honor and propriety. Do not worry, my lord, I am certain you will know exactly how to go on."
"What in God's name do you mean, you don't have any common sense in this sort of thing?"
"Oh, nothing—nothing, really," she said hastily, not wanting to have to explain about the Unfortunate Incident until it was absolutely necessary. After all, once Simon became aware of what had happened when she was nineteen, he would be obliged to cease all this wonderful talk of love. "It is just that my family feels I have been rather badly affected by my love of romantic literature," she explained weakly. It was true as far as it went.
"And have you?" His golden eyes were unreadable.
Emily blushed and looked at his perfectly tied cravat, which did not seem to have been in the least disturbed by the recent excess of passion. "You should know the answer to that, my lord. You know me better than anyone else knows me."
"Because of your letters?" He caught her chin gently on the edge of his fist and forced her to meet his
"Exciting is one word for it. I can think of a few others."
"Such as?"
"Stupid."
Emily frowned at the sardonic tone. "Is something wrong, my lord?" She groped for her spectacles because he had moved too far away to enable her to see clearly the expression in his eyes.
"Here." Impatiently he thrust the spectacles into her hands and she put them on.
Emily saw at once that Simon was scowling fiercely. "There is something wrong. What is it, my lord?"
He gave her a derisive, sidelong glance. "You ask me that? After what almost happened a moment ago?"
Emily tilted her head to one side, studying him. "You kissed me. It was wonderful. The most wonderful experience of my life. Why should anything be wrong?"
"Damn it, woman, another five minutes and we would have been… Hell. Never mind."
"Another five minutes and we would have been cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore, perhaps?"
"Good God. This is no time for poetic euphemisms." Simon glared at the quiet waters of the pond. He started to say something else and then his lips twitched. An instant later a wicked grin came and went on his hard mouth. "Cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore? From whose works did you glean that line?'"
"I invented it myself," Emily told him, not without some pride. " 'Tis a line from the epic poem I told you I am currently working on,
The Mysterious Lady
. I am still searching for the proper rhyme for 'shore.' "
"Have you tried 'bore'?"
She grinned. "Now you are teasing me. Tell me the truth, sir. What do you think of the line?"
He glanced back at her over his shoulder, golden eyes gleaming with what should have been passion but which Emily was very much afraid was amusement. "It is most apt, Miss Faringdon. Come here."
She went willingly back into his embrace but this time he merely kissed her lightly on the forehead and then on the tip of her nose before setting her a short distance away from him again. "Now, pay attention, Miss Faringdon, for I have something extremely important to say to you."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Henceforth, whenever we are threatened with being cast adrift upon love's transcendent, golden shore, I want you to slap my face. Do you understand?"
She stared at him in shock. "I shall not do any such thing."
"Yes, you will, if you have any common sense at all."
"I am certain you would not go beyond the limits of what is proper, my lord."
"I have already gone beyond them," he said through gritted teeth, his amusement fading rapidly.
"The thing is, my lord," she said with a small, considering frown, "I am not at all certain we can rely upon my common sense in this sort of situation. I have been assured that in such matters, I do not have a great deal. Therefore, we must depend upon your sense of honor and propriety. Do not worry, my lord, I am certain you will know exactly how to go on."
"What in God's name do you mean, you don't have any common sense in this sort of thing?"
"Oh, nothing—nothing, really," she said hastily, not wanting to have to explain about the Unfortunate Incident until it was absolutely necessary. After all, once Simon became aware of what had happened when she was nineteen, he would be obliged to cease all this wonderful talk of love. "It is just that my family feels I have been rather badly affected by my love of romantic literature," she explained weakly. It was true as far as it went.
"And have you?" His golden eyes were unreadable.
Emily blushed and looked at his perfectly tied cravat, which did not seem to have been in the least disturbed by the recent excess of passion. "You should know the answer to that, my lord. You know me better than anyone else knows me."
"Because of your letters?" He caught her chin gently on the edge of his fist and forced her to meet his
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