Seduced at Midnight

Emily's mouth curved upward in the mischievous grin that so often touched her lips. 'Unless he's like the ghost in our latest book selection. Of course, in The Ghost of Devonshire Manor the only thing stolen was a lady's innocence. The story was so deliciously real-'

'Which is why I called for this meeting of the Ladies Literary Society now,' interrupted Julianne. 'The timing of a ghost robber is perfect. I think we should hold a seance, similar to the one in the book, to discover who this thief is.'

'I think that's a marvelous idea,' said Emily.

'I think perhaps the Devonshire Manor ghost has addled your wits,' said Sarah.

'Perhaps,' Julianne conceded. 'I must admit I haven't been quite the same since I read it.' Indeed, the book had ignited a restlessness within her she'd been unable to squelch. 'The story affected me strongly. It was haunting-'

'As a ghost story should be,' Emily interrupted with a grin.

'Yes, but more than anything, you can't deny it was extremely'-Julianne cleared her throat then lowered her voice-'sensual as well.'

'It was indeed,' agreed Sarah. 'A more apt title might have been The Haunting of Lady Elaine.'

'By the Very Delicious Maxwell,' added Emily, fanning her hand in front of her face.

'Yes,' said Carolyn. 'Maxwell was… oh, my…'

Her words trailed off into a vaporous sigh, and Julianne, Emily, and Sarah all nodded and murmured in agreement. Based on the fact that the Ladies Literary Society's reading selections were far more scandalous than their group's name would suggest-which was no accident-Julianne had known their ghost story would be more than a simple tale of spirits flitting about in graveyards. Yet she hadn't anticipated its deeply sensual protagonist Maxwell, who was a ghost-a fact that didn't stop him from seducing the lovely Lady Elaine. Over and over again. In some very inventive ways.

'If only such a man existed in real life,' Emily said. 'So strong and brave. Masculine and romantic and-'

'Passionate.' The word slipped from Julianne's lips before she could stop it.

'He does exist,' Carolyn and Sarah said in unison. 'I married him.' The sisters looked at each other and shared a smile.

Julianne's gaze dropped to Sarah's midsection, which was just starting to show signs of swelling with the baby she carried. Her happiness for her friends, both of whom had fallen in love and married in the last several months, mingled with undeniable envy. She'd never have the love, joy, and passion that Sarah and Carolyn shared with their husbands.

No, there would be no love match for her. She'd long ago accepted the inevitable- that her father would arrange her marriage, his choice based solely on the advantageous considerations of property, titles, and money. As she'd been reminded practically from the cradle, she had no say in the matter, and complying without complaint to her father's wishes was the least she could do, since she'd had neither the decency nor the sense to be born a boy. After overhearing her parents' conversation earlier today, Julianne feared her arranged marriage was closer than ever.

Still, her heart dreamed of falling in love. Of passion. Of a man who would want her in those same ways and not merely as the product of a business arrangement. A man who would have fire in his eyes when he looked at her…

Even as Julianne tried to erase his image from her memory, a mental picture rose in her mind. Of a tall man with stark features, ebony hair, and dark eyes filled with secrets and mystery. A man surrounded by a veil of tempting, seductive, enticing danger. A man forbidden to her.

Gideon Mayne…

His name whispered through her mind, a silent sigh of longing.

He had fire in his eyes when he looked at her-a look that made her burn to know more, to know everything about him.

'Yes, you both married fabulous, dashing men,' Emily said, pulling Julianne from her wayward thoughts, 'and very selfishly, I might add, leaving nothing but nincompoops for Julianne and me. No other such magnificent men exist, and alas, Maxwell is but a figment of fiction.'

He existed, Julianne knew.

But he could never be hers.

Lady Elaine had suffered the same dilemma regarding her ghostly lover Maxwell in The Ghost of Devonshire Manor, and Julianne vividly understood the hopelessness of the other woman's impossible feelings.

'The things that Maxwell did to Lady Elaine…' Sarah gushed out a sigh. 'Good heavens, no wonder she never wanted to leave her home.'

Julianne bit back a groan as a flash of heat tingled through her body. The story's scandalous nature had conjured all manner of fantasies featuring Gideon Mayne, images she couldn't dispel from her mind.

'My favorite parts of the book were when Maxwell scared off Lady Elaine's various suitors,' Carolyn said. 'He was quite devilish. And ingenious.'

'Very,' agreed Sarah. 'I especially laughed when he made the vicar's duck entree dance and quack on his plate.'

'Maxwell did those things because he didn't want another man to have the woman he loved and desired so deeply,' Julianne said softly. 'His pain was so palpable, I could feel it, and my heart broke for him. They both knew that in spite of their feelings, their circumstances rendered them unable to truly be together.'

Yes, circumstances no less impossible and unsolvable than those between her and the man she could not stop thinking about.

In an effort to banish thoughts of that which she could not have, Julianne sought to change the subject back to her seance idea of catching the robber. 'Certainly if one is going to be haunted by a ghost, Maxwell is the sort to have-'

'Oh, I agree,' interjected Emily. 'Much preferable to the ghost that haunts my aunt Agatha's Surrey estate. His name is Gregory. According to Aunt Agatha, he's old, paunchy, suffers from the gout, and is wholly unpleasant.'

'What makes your aunt believe she has a ghost?' Sarah asked in a dubious tone, pushing her spectacles higher on her nose.

'She's seen him,' Emily responded. 'And heard him. He groans a great deal. She calls him Gregory the Groaner.'

'But how could she hear him?' Julianne asked. 'Your aunt Agatha, although a dear lady, is deaf as a tree stump.'

'Apparently Gregory flits about in the corridors, complaining of his aches and pains loudly enough for even Aunt Agatha to hear.'

'Have you seen Gregory?' asked Carolyn.

Emily shook her head. 'No, but I did hear some odd groaning sounds the last time I visited.'

'Hearing groaning sounds, seeing ghosts, that's one of the things I wanted to discuss,' Julianne said. 'Based on our book selection, I think we should conduct a seance, similar to the one Lady Elaine held. Only instead of trying to conjure a lover, we'll attempt to summon this Mayfair ghost.'

Emily's eyes sparkled with interest. 'Ah, yes, you mentioned that earlier, then we went off on a tangent. An excellent suggestion. Of course we won't be successful, but it should prove an interesting diversion. When and where do you suggest?'

'I host it tomorrow evening,' Julianne said. 'Could you all come?'

'I wouldn't miss it,' Emily said without hesitation. 'Who knows what sort of ghost