The Marriage Wager (37 page)

“
What
is going on?” complained Lady Mary Dacre, entering on Colin’s heels and pushing her way impatiently around him. “I have been left alone in that box for an
age
, and I think it is excessively
rude
of you to…” Taking in the scene, she fell silent, staring from one to another with wide blue eyes behind her mask. “Good heavens,” she added feebly.

The little storeroom was beginning to feel remarkably crowded, Emma thought.

“Really, Emma,” said Colin. He examined Orsino, Ferik, and the details of the chamber in which they stood. “This is not the way to discourage such scoundrels. Threats have no effect.”

“I am going to kill him,” declared Ferik.

Orsino began to thrash ineffectually again.

“Ah,” said Colin, looking startled. “That would do it.”

“But I
wasn’t
going to run away with him!” exclaimed Lady Mary. “A hired carriage is fetching me in half an hour to take me home.”

Orsino goggled at her. Colin raised his eyebrows. “You know about him?” Emma asked her husband.

“All about him,” answered Colin in an almost meditative voice.

“I let him
think
I would go with him because I wanted to see the masquerade,” continued Lady Mary. She frowned. “And no one else would take me. Everyone is so Gothic and prudish.” She caught Emma’s glare. “But I remembered what you said,” she assured her. “I was very careful, and I didn’t believe
anything
he told me.”

Orsino gurgled urgently. Ferik shook him a bit, and he fell silent.

“‘Count’ Orsino is of great interest to several foreign governments,” said Colin, as if Lady Mary had not spoken. “He is not welcome in his own country—or in this one.”

Orsino stopped struggling and went very still.

“He is, in fact, slated to be escorted to the coast by the authorities tomorrow morning and put on a boat leaving England.”

Lady Mary’s mouth had dropped open below her mask. “But I
told
you,” she said, “I
wasn’t
going to—”

“Aha!” shouted a new voice from just outside the room. “I’ve found you!” A slender figure in a black domino erupted into the room. Above his mask, he wore a large-brimmed hat enlivened by an ostrich feather, and he was brandishing a long unsheathed rapier with alarming freedom. “I’ve uncovered your despicable plan,” the newcomer added. “And I won’t allow it, do you hear? I’ll kill you first.”

“Robin?” said Emma faintly.

Her brother turned in a half circle, taking in the crowd in the small room through the limited viewpoint of his mask. His sword drooped a little. “Did you know about it already?” he asked, clearly very disappointed.

“Know about what?” demanded Colin.

Robin gestured with the sword, causing Lady Mary to screech in protest and back away. “That… that blackguard’s plan to carry off Lady Mary and ruin her,” he answered. “I only discovered tonight from her maid that he meant to bring her here. I came at once. He has a traveling carriage waiting outside, you know. And two dashed havey-cavey characters waiting with it.”

“You came to rescue me?” asked Lady Mary, clearly pleased.

“To save you from your own folly,” Robin retorted. “You would have been ruined without me.” He paused. “And, er, the others, of course.” He looked around the room again, observing Ferik with great interest. “What are you going to do with him?” he asked.

“Kill him,” replied Ferik.

“Really?” Robin looked pleased and impressed. “Going to throttle him, are you? Good man!”

“But there’s no
need
,” began Lady Mary again.

“Silence!” thundered Colin. Everyone started and turned to look at him. “Our friends are in box number twenty-three,” he told Robin, enunciating each word very clearly. “You may take Lady Mary and join them there, or you may take her home.”

“But I—”

“Or you may both go to perdition,” added Colin, in a tone that made Robin take a step back, “so long as you leave us
now
.”

Robin grasped Lady Mary’s arm, almost hauling her from the room. “But what’s going on?” she wondered. It had finally penetrated her consciousness that the scene in the storeroom was not centered around her fate.

“None of our affair,” Robin told her.

“I want to stay and—”

“Naturally you do. Why must you always want the most unsuitable things in creation?”

“I don’t!”

“You do.”

As their bickering faded into the general noise of the masquerade, Colin turned back and surveyed the other three. “I really think you can let him go, Ferik,” he said.

“I am going to kill him,” Ferik repeated, in the same calm voice he had been using all evening.

“That won’t be necessary. As I mentioned, I have made arrangements for his departure. And unless he wishes to find himself in prison, he will not show his face in England again.”

“How did you know?” asked Emma quietly.

He looked down at her. “From your manner.”

Emma bent her head.

“How did he threaten you?” asked Colin gently.

She flushed, continuing to stare at the dirty floor of the storeroom. “Edward talked when he drank,” she murmured, so softly that he had to bend closer to hear. “He told Orsino… things, intimate things, about me. He was going to spread them about, make a scandal, let you think that he and I had…” She choked on the rest.

“I see.” Colin looked at the count, and the emotion in his eyes made the other man cringe. “Perhaps Ferik should kill him.”

Ferik grinned.

With a massive convulsion of his whole body, Orsino broke Ferik’s grip, jumping free of the huge man and backing away. Bending, he pulled a large knife from his boot top.

Ferik roared and started toward him. Colin said, “You cannot get through both of us, Orsino.”

The count grabbed Emma, throwing one arm around her throat and pressing the knife to her breast with the other hand. “Get back,” he said, his voice hoarse from Ferik’s manhandling. “If you come near me, I’ll kill her.”

Colin put out a hand to stop Ferik. “Wait,” he said.

“I’m leaving,” said Orsino. “And if anyone tries to stop me…” He moved the blade slightly. “Get away from the door.”

They obeyed, Ferik’s face in a murderous grimace.

Orsino half pushed, half dragged Emma into the hallway and along it toward the only exit, which led through the ballroom. Did he imagine that he could take her through the crowd without being stopped? she found herself wondering, even though her heart was pounding with fear.

The roar of the ballroom came nearer. A pair of dancers reeled together out into the hall, then stopped short and gaped when they saw Emma and Orsino. The razor-sharp blade nicked Emma’s collarbone, and a trickle of blood ran down her breast and stained the bodice of her gown. The unexpected pain made her falter and trip over one of its trailing veils. Thinking quickly, she let herself fall, trying to take the count down with her. But he pulled free and viciously jerked her arm to get her up again.

With a roar, Ferik surged forward. Emma huddled into a ball away from the knife. Casting one frantic look behind him, Orsino plunged through the doorway and into the crush of dancers.

Ferik and Colin raced after him. Pushing people aside, the three cleaved the sea of masqueraders, leaving a line of angry revelers like the frothing wake of a ship. One irate man struck out and knocked off Colin’s mask, so that he was revealed to all the onlookers in the boxes. Emma groaned. A shrieking woman whose headdress was knocked askew took hold of Ferik’s vest with both hands, and he dragged her nearly twenty feet through the crowd before the embroidered material gave way and she fell with the rags of the garment in her fingers.

His great chest now bare, Ferik forged through the crowd, his dark eyes blazing, his exotic figure nearly a head taller than anyone else. He reached for, missed, then caught the tail of Orsino’s black tunic, jerking the man backward as if he were a doll. Twisting his other hand in the count’s collar, he lifted him up over his head, a squirming exhibit for everyone to see. Emma glanced up and saw Tom leaning over the rail of their box, his mouth hanging open. The rest of their friends were similarly riveted, not to mention hundreds of others.

“Ferik, put him down,” shouted Colin, tugging on the giant’s arm to get him to release his prisoner. “Put… him… down.”

Emma leaned against the corridor wall and closed her eyes behind her mask. Their exposure was complete. Ferik’s name was known to many in the
ton
after the fever of curiosity his appearance had excited. There would be no hiding Colin’s identity. And no stopping the gossips from ferreting out every detail.

She ventured another look. Orsino was on the ground again, and they had taken his knife. No doubt he would be sent away, as Colin had promised, now that it was too late, now that a scandal far juicier than any so far had been set in motion. All her efforts to keep Colin from being an object of gossip and malice had gone up in smoke.

Sick at heart, Emma made her way around the edge of the crowd and outside. She couldn’t bear any more. Trudging up the street, she found a hackney cab to take her home. In her bedchamber, she shed her fantastic costume and left it lying in a heap on the floor. Putting on her wrapper, she huddled in an armchair by the fire, crushed by her failure.

After a while, her maid came in. “My lady, I didn’t know you were here. His lordship just sent someone to make certain you were home, and I said you would have rung if you were, but he insisted I check. So I—”

“As you see, I am here,” interrupted Emma.

“Yes, your ladyship. I’ll send word. Can I get you…?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But shouldn’t I…?”

“I need nothing. I’m very tired. You may go to bed.”

The girl hesitated, then dropped a curtsy and went out. Emma let her head drop back and stared blankly at the ceiling. The mantel clock ticked out the minutes; the fire fell into itself with a shower of sparks. After an endless time, and a constantly repeating litany of might-have-beens, Emma fell asleep.

***

It was very late when Colin gently opened the door that connected their rooms and came in, carrying a single candle. He looked first to the bed and, finding it empty, scanned the rest of the room with a frown. Discovering Emma still curled in the chair, he went and stood beside it, setting the candlestick on a small table. He gazed down at her bright hair, which strayed over her shoulders like a shower of gilt, at the beautiful line of her cheek and throat. His heart seemed to turn over in his chest, and he was overwhelmed by love and longing. He knelt beside her. “Emma,” he said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Emma, you must get to bed.”

She started awake, bolting straight up and gazing disorientedly about the room. Finally, her eyes fixed on his face. “Colin,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. I made a hash of everything.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “Everything has been settled quite satisfactorily. Orsino is on his way out of England, and he will not be allowed back. He is also very, very clear on what will happen to him if he attempts to threaten you again.” His expression was grim. “Utterly clear,” he repeated.

“That is all very well, but—”

“Also…” He paused.

“What?” cried Emma, acutely sensitive to the change in his tone.

“Well, there is something else. I have done something you may not like.”

“What?” repeated Emma, bewildered.

He met her eyes. “I sent Ferik with the count.”

“Sent Ferik.” Emma blinked, confused.

“He will make absolutely certain Orsino is gone, and then… he will continue on to Constantinople.”

“Ferik is gone?” Momentarily, she felt bereft.

Colin nodded. “He was somewhat reluctant, but I, er, painted a vivid picture of the advantages of setting up as an innkeeper in his own country. And I gave him a sum of money that should allow him to do so in grand style.” When Emma didn’t respond, he added quickly, “The idea seemed to please him. And he sent you his profoundest respect and effusive farewells and thanks.”

“He will be able to have his wife with the big dowry and nice firm bottom,” murmured Emma.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He will love having his own establishment,” she added. “I will miss him, but it is perfect. He wasn’t happy here in England. I’ve been worried about him and trying to think what to do.”

Colin let out a breath. “Good. Then all’s well.”

Emma sat up straighter. “How can you say so? By tomorrow, everyone will be talking about the fight at the masquerade, making up wild tales, whispering and laughing behind your back. It will be a scandal worse than any—”

With a brusque gesture, as if this was a matter of no importance, he silenced her. “Why didn’t you tell me when you were in trouble?” he asked. “Did you imagine I wouldn’t help you?”

Emma turned her head away, staring at the dying fire. “No,” she said finally. “I knew you would help. That was the trouble.”

“The trouble?” He frowned at her.

She twisted her hands together. “You wanted a quiet life, after the war. You told me that. You didn’t want a wife who would plague you and cause uproars. But these… things kept happening. Gossip about me, and then Lady Mary’s silly dramatics.”

“Those don’t—”

“We were getting through those all right,” Emma acknowledged. “But then Orsino threatened to lie about me, and I thought it would be too much.”

“Emma.”

“People listen to him! I have seen them. He can be very convincing. He ruined a number of people with his stories about them. I was so afraid…” She caught a gasping breath. “I was so afraid he would cause a scandal greater than you could tolerate. And that I would lose you forever.”

Gently, he pulled her to face him again.

“And I couldn’t bear that idea,” finished Emma forlornly, her eyes on the carpet.

“Couldn’t you?” asked Colin in an odd voice. “Why not?”

“Because,” she choked. “Because…” She bit her bottom lip. Colin wasn’t angry about the fresh scandal, she thought. He seemed ready to return to their secure, comfortable arrangement. She had everything she needed. It was ridiculous—childish—to wish for more, for passionate declarations of love from her husband. Remember what your circumstances were just a year ago, she admonished herself sternly. But it didn’t help. “Because I love you,” she burst out. “I’ve fallen in love with you, and I don’t think I could go on without you.”