Emily made a disparaging sound and gave a dismissive flick of her wrist. "I find that very difficult to believe. Indeed, I'm shocked you didn't feel the need for a good scrubbing after being touched by that uncouth colonial. After all, how 'excellent' could he possibly be? For that matter, how 'excellent' could any man be?"

"Extremely excellent," said Sarah.

"Marvelously excellent," replied Carolyn at the same time.

"Extraordinarily excellent," said Julianne in unison with her two friends. And immediately found herself the recipient of three startled looks.

Heat rushed into Julianne's face, and Emily's eyes narrowed. "And where exactly are you getting your extraordinarily excellent information from? Don't tell me Logan Jennsen kissed you as well?"

"Heavens, no," Julianne said, but the nervousness in her voice lent doubt to her words, even though they were truthful.

"But someone has kissed you," Emily persisted. "I can tell. It's written all over your face."

"I… well…" Oh, dear. Why hadn't she simply pressed her lips together to keep from speaking? Both Sarah and Carolyn sat on the edge of their seats, clearly eager to hear what she had to say. And Emily's expression made it clear she'd never allow the subject to drop until Julianne answered. Julianne debated lying, but her friends knew her well enough to detect an outright falsehood.

She drew a bracing breath, then said in a rush, "Yes, I've been kissed."

"When?" asked Sarah.

Carolyn leaned forward. "Where?"

"By whom?" demanded Emily.

The eager questions fired at her like pistol shots, ripping gaping wounds in her conscience. She hated to prevaricate with her dearest friends, but she simply couldn't tell them the truth. At least not the entire truth.

After swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry throat, Julianne said, "It was, um, some time ago." True, if one considered last night some time ago. It certainly felt as if ages had passed since Gideon had kissed her. "As for where… the garden. And by whom… someone I shall never forget."

"Which means you must recall his name," Emily said, waving her hand in an impatient gesture for Julianne to continue.

Indeed. She feared blurting out Gideon every time she opened her mouth, as he so completely filled her mind. "Of course. But since the gentleman and I are fated to different futures, I'd prefer not to reveal it."

Carolyn and Sarah looked disappointed, but Emily appeared positively crestfallen by her refusal. And annoyed.

"Well, isn't this a fine stew," Emily said, her lips compressed in clear irritation. "You've all experienced these wonderful kisses, the sort described in detail in The Ghost of Devonshire Manor. Except me. And you"-with her beautiful face pulled into a pout, Emily stabbed a finger at Julianne-"won't even tell us who your extraordinarily excellent kisser was. I'm feeling very left out. And infuriatingly unkissed."

Carolyn laid her hand over Emily's. "Someday, very soon, I'm sure, you'll experience a wonderful kiss."

"When you least expect it, some daring, wonderful kisser will sweep you right off your feet," Julianne added.

Emily's lips twitched. "You make him sound like a broom."

"Which rhymes with groom," Sarah said with a grin. "He'll kiss you, sweep you off your feet, and we'll be attending a wedding."

"Humph." Emily flounced back in her chair. Then a mischievous gleam lit her eyes. "Perhaps I'll kiss him and be the one doing the sweeping."

"I'd wager that whomever you finally set your sights on won't stand a chance against you," Sarah said, laughing.

"Yes, perhaps we'd best warn the poor man," teased Carolyn.

"At least give him a head start," joined in Julianne. Then she sobered. "Speaking of weddings… I don't want to cast a pall on our evening, but I suppose there's no point in delaying telling you…" Her voice trailed off, and she stared into the candlelight for several seconds, desperately wishing she didn't have to say the rest, that it was all just a bad dream from which she would soon awaken. "Shortly before you arrived, my father told me he has decided upon a husband for me. It's the Duke of Eastling."

Emily gasped. "Are you betrothed?" The word sounded like an obscenity, and as far as Julianne was concerned, it was.

"Not officially yet, but according to Father I will be by next week. He and Mother plan to make the official announcement during their ball." With a heavy heart she told them about the duke's wish for the carriage to take place before his planned returned to Cornwall.

For several long seconds only silence met her announcement. Then Sarah reached out and clasped her hands. Emily and Carolyn did so as well, and Julianne found herself clinging to her friends like a lifeline.

"Have you had an opportunity to spend any time with the duke?" Sarah asked, her eyes filled with concern.

A bitter sound escaped Julianne. "Not very much, but that will be remedied within a fortnight. I'll be spending the rest of my life with him." She lowered her chin and stared at the table. "With a man I barely know, and to whom I'm not the least bit attracted. A man who will take me away to Cornwall." Tears stung the backs of her eyes. "A man who cares nothing for me."

"Well, I simply wouldn't do it," Sarah said, her expression as fierce as her voice. "I would refuse to marry him. Surely there is someone else. Someone you could care for. Someone who cares for you."

Julianne offered her loyal friend a sad smile. "It doesn't matter, as the duke is the man Father has chosen."

"The choice should be yours," Sarah insisted.

"We weren't born into the peerage," Carolyn said to her sister. "Our circumstances regarding marriage were vastly different than Julianne's. Our father was a physician, not an earl."

"And Julianne is a woman, not chattel to be bartered away to the highest bidder."

"'Tis the way of the peerage, I'm afraid," said Emily. "You've only been part of this life a short time, Sarah. Very few marriages are love matches. If one is very, very fortunate, love eventually grows."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Thus the prevalence of infidelity in society."

Sarah shook her head, and her glasses slid downward. "Well, that is simply unacceptable. And my earlier statement stands. I just wouldn't do it. I couldn't do it. I couldn't possibly share the intimacies of marriage with someone I didn't love. Someone who didn't care for me."

Carolyn put her arm around Julianne's shoulder and shot her sister a frown. "You're not helping, Sarah. How could the duke, or any man for that matter, not adore our Julianne?"

"He'd be an utter fool not to," Sarah agreed. "But what of her feelings for him? Or rather her lack of feelings?" Before anyone could answer, Sarah turned to Emily. "What about you? Do you harbor any hopes of making a love match?"

For several seconds Emily looked down and fiddled with the pale blue trim of her muslin gown. Then she raised her chin. "It has always been my dearest hope, but I fear I'm in a situation similar to Julianne's. My father has lately suffered some… financial setbacks. Although he hasn't yet said anything, I suspect he'll be looking for a wealthy man for me. A very wealthy man."

"And if you don't happen to love this very wealthy man?" Sarah asked.

"Love has nothing to do with it," Julianne and Emily responded in unison. "At least so far as our fathers are concerned," Julianne added, unable to hide the despondency in her voice. "Which makes me very glad I experienced that wonderful kiss," she continued softly. "Indeed, I was sorely tempted to steal more than a kiss."

"I don't blame you one bit," Sarah said. "Lady Elaine was expected to marry another, but with Maxwell she shared kisses and so much more-"

"Again, that is not helping." Carolyn skewered her sister with another frown.

Sarah cleared her throat, as if swallowing the rest of what she'd intended to say, then settled her concerned gaze on Julianne. "Is there anything we can do? Having married for love, I don't see how anyone could contemplate doing otherwise."

"Visit me in Cornwall?" Julianne suggested, trying not to sound as defeated as she felt.

Her three friends instantly agreed that they would. But in her heart, Julianne knew that once she married the duke, nothing would ever be the same again.

"There must be something more we can do," Sarah persisted.

Julianne shook her head and fought the tears pushing behind her eyes. "Nothing can be done. Except for me to prepare myself for my wedding." The words tasted like sawdust in her mouth.

Sarah's mutterings sounded like, "Something can always be done." Then she cleared her throat and spoke up, "Perhaps a ghost lover like Maxwell can steal you away."

Julianne offered a weak smile at the whimsical suggestion. If only she could be stolen away. Not by a ghost, but by a real man. The only man she'd want to do so.

Gideon.

The party broke up soon afterward, and after waving good-bye to her friends through the rain-slashed foyer window, Julianne made her way back to her bedchamber. The instant she entered the room, her gaze fell upon the leather-bound The Ghost of Devonshire Manor she'd set on her dresser just before departing to meet her friends. She'd been idly flipping through the pages then, and now, after closing the door, she picked up the volume and ran her fingers over the gilt lettering on the cover.

"You were quite the devil, weren't you, Maxwell?" she murmured.

She skimmed through several pages, pausing at a random one, and began reading. Ah, yes, one of her favorite scenes, where Maxwell did his best to seduce Lady Elaine, and the lady tried her best to resist the temptation. The sensual ghost eventually managed to push past her reluctance. Just thinking about the scene that followed brought a heated flush to Julianne's cheeks. Indeed, Maxwell's best proved very pleasurable. For both him and Lady Elaine.

"You invited me to do my worst. But I'd much prefer to do my best."

Gideon's words from earlier that afternoon echoed in her mind. Heat scorched her face then raced downward to engulf her entire body. He'd been a hairsbreadth away from kissing her. And if her plan for tonight hadn't gone awry, he'd be inside the house right now, rather than outside.

She set down the book and paced the length of the chamber, her thoughts troubled-now not so much by her impending engagement and marriage but rather a question that had plagued her all evening.

What had happened to Johnny?

She'd not seen the young coal porter since this morning when they'd struck their bargain. Since then he'd drastically changed the script of their little play, first by leaving the note in her bedchamber, then by not making any ghostly noises during the séance. Dear God, she hoped no disaster had befallen the young man. But surely his absence was merely due to the foul weather.

Foul weather that Gideon would be in right now as he guarded the house. If only it wasn't storming-

You'd sneak outside to see him?her inner voice asked with scathing disapproval.

Yes. That's exactly what she would do.

Her common sense berated her. Told her she should send up a prayer of thanks for the rain that kept her inside. Her heart countered that she wasn't made of spun sugar and therefore wouldn't melt if she got wet.

No, she wouldn't melt, but was she brave enough to venture out alone into the stormy darkness?

You wouldn't be alone. Gideon is out there.

Yes, but the perimeter of the mansion was large. What if she couldn't find him? What if, while she searched the rear of the mansion, he was patrolling the front? There was no telling how long she might be alone in the dark.

Perhaps she could entice him inside to warm himself by the fire and dry off. She could offer him something to drink. Several of Cook's delicious biscuits. Her heart sped up at the prospect.

She made her way to the window nearest her bed, pushed aside the heavy green velvet drape, and frowned. It was so dark outside, all she could see was her own dim reflection in the panes. She stepped closer to the window, trying to see beyond the balcony to the ground below and rested her hand against the glass. Chill seeped into her palm, and her insides ached at the thought of Gideon out there, cold, wet, and alone.