Yes Giles is in there from Buffy The Vampire Slayer i couldn't think of anyone else.





"A toast!" Archie Simpson’s, wealthy colonial sharecropper and soon to be British noble, announced.

"A toast!" The forty-nine landholders seated at the long, chestnut dinning table all arose, holding their wineglasses up high.

"To wise investments and a more prosperous tomorrow!" Archie proclaimed with a cultured smile.

Glasses clinked as the elite of North Carolina shared in his toast.

"Although perhaps not quite so prosperous as our host," Daniel Stewart commented, nodding his head in Archie’s direction. "Tell me, how ever did you manage it? Married into the House of Lords - quite an amazing accomplishment, even for you."

"Especially given your daughter’s, er…spirited tendencies," Thomas Archer agreed.

Archie laughed. "I can assure you," he began, "the Stones’ aren’t accepting my offer because of Emma’s charming personality."

"All about business then, is it?" Archer inquired.

"It is a shame that so many of our fatherland’s nobility have fallen into such hardship in recent years," Archie agreed in a manner that indicated all too clearly that all he cared about the matter was how it had benefited him personally. "The Stones have indeed fallen upon hard times in recent years. And, if they’re eager to ally with the ample estates I’ve set up here in the colonies in order to rebuild their wealth, who am I to object?"

Stewart laughed. "Even though their son must endure a marriage with young Emma?"

"From what I’ve heard, this Peter of theirs is quite the philanderer," Archie said dismissively. "They’re glad to have him settled down…at least officially."

"And Emma is not so displeasing of countenance," Archer joked lightly. "At least he’ll have that consolation after they’re wed."

Archie raised his glass in agreement. "I figure she’ll be able to at least bare him a few good sons. Fair trade all around."

"If he can break her in properly," Stewart commented wryly. "You never quite managed that, did you, Simpson?"

Archie hid his displeasure at what he considered to be the greatest failure of his life. Everything else in his work, his landholdings, his family, and his social circle had come off perfectly, expect for that stubborn daughter of his who just refused to bend to his as any proper lady of her standing should.

"It’s her husband’s task now," he made light of the subject, unwilling to let anything mar this, the night of his crowning achievement. Marriage to nobility was indeed rare with colonial families these days. He had already received reports of the stir it was causing back in good, old England. But all that really mattered was that the Stones’ were desperate enough to go through with this arranged marriage. Thankfully, the recent piracy on the Atlantic had reduced the old Lord’s holdings to virtually nothing.

"May her husband reign her in better than her father has," Stewart pressed the point a bit bitterly. After all, who wouldn’t be jealous of Archie’s recent success?

Archie gave him a tightlipped smile and raised his glass in agreement.

"To the taming of the screw," Archer laughed, joining in the most recent toast as well, "provided she doesn’t pull another of those stunts of hers first…"

* * *

"Are you mad?" Ellie demanded as Emma slung herself over the edge of her balcony.

"Not yet," Emma retorted, "and as long as you continue to lower the rope, I’ll remain of good temper." She grabbed hold of the makeshift rope she’d created through knotted bed-sheets and tested its strength once more.

Ellie whispered a silent prayer that she would escape this latest adventure of her mistress’ concocting. "It’s really not so bad," she informed the blond beauty even as she lowered the rope for her. "In fact, the company of a man can be most…enjoyable."

"You’ve heard everything I have," Emma retorted. "This Peter Stones is nothing but a petty whore-mongerer!"

"Which will only make his that much more experienced in how to please you," Ellie countered.

Emma gave her a dark long. "There is no way I’m going through with this idiotic plan of my father’s," she insisted. She lowered herself further down the rope.

Ellie winced when she felt the knots strain with Emma’s weight. "You never know," she called down as quietly as she could, "he could be the one to finally win your heart…"

"Some stuffy, inbred, British Lord?" Emma rolled her eyes. "Hardly."

"You’d rather have some idle, flaccid landowner?" Ellie retorted. "Or a dirty merchant?"

"Given the choices, I’d rather have nothing at all," Emma, declared. "Lower me further."

Ellie let loose another coil, and Emma fell another few feet. The sheet stretched out dangerously. "I don’t think it will hold," she commented just as Emma felt the rope give way.

Ellie scrambled to hold it, but the knot slipped and, with a little screech, Emma fell some fifteen feet to the ground…

* * *

…Coincidentally, just as Archer had finished his comment. The sound of her cry was easily heard by everyone at the dinner party, and they all turned to the window to watch in astonished disbelief as the young Emma Simpson’s came falling down from the sky, landing in an ungraceful heap on the far side of the lawn.

"Simmons!" Archie called out to his butler, but his need had already been anticipated.

In a matter of seconds, half a dozen footmen had rushed to their mistress’ side, breathing sighs of relief at discovering that she was uninjured. They attempted to extricate her from the tangled sheet, but her own wild thrashings only made the job more difficult.

Poor John got a hit in the nose for his troubles, and all the others winced in sympathy. Emma Simpson’s had an unfortunate tendency to go for the nose, and it wasn’t pretty when she did it.

"Is she all right?" Ellie called down from the third story window where she and Emma had been locked for the night in a hopeless attempt to keep the younger blond from attempting to escape.

"Fine," Michael called up, giving her an eager smile. Ellie was known for eagerly awarding men’s friendliness, and he wouldn’t mind one last shot at the blond before she sailed away to England tomorrow.

"Get off of me!" Emma finally pulled herself free of the sheets and rose to her feet, fists ready to pummel any nose that got within ten feet of her.

The footmen warily back off into a circle around her.

"You fools!" Archie cried out from the dinning room window, watching the spectacle on the lawn with embarrassment. "Grab her!"

The six strong young men looked at each other nervously, gulping at the enraged expression on their Master’s daughter’s face.

"O-On three." Michael’s voice was shaking. "One, two…"

Emma tried to bolt, but valiant efforts on the parts of all the footmen finally got her arms and legs secured. The six of them dragged her, still struggling, back to the dinning room where her father awaited.

"Do I have to keep you in chains?" Archie hissed, snatching her from the servants and marching her off into the hallway where all his guests wouldn’t be able to gawk at the spectacle.

Emma tried to pull free of his grasp, but it was like iron. "Not even that will get me on that ship tomorrow," she retorted.

"You’ll be on that ship," Archie insisted, "if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you myself!"

"You wouldn’t dare," Emma retorted. "It would sully your precious reputation to be seen in public like that."

"It would sully my reputation more should this marriage not go through," Archie retorted.

"I’ll never marry Peter," Emma insisted.

Archie’s eyes narrowed. "You stubborn little brat!" he hissed. "This is the greatest opportunity of my career! Do you have any idea what a noble endorsement will do for my shipping company?"

"You care for your businesses more than you do for your own flesh and blood!" Emma accused.

"That is it!" Archie roared angrily. "You are my daughter and will obey my commands!"

"I will not!" Emma retorted.

"Then I shall just have to make you…" Archie hissed angrily. "Simmons, get some rope!"

* * *