Seduced at Midnight

might be summoned or secrets revealed in the dark?'

'I wouldn't miss it either,' said Sarah. 'Of course, convincing Matthew to allow me out of his sight for an entire evening will present a challenge. He thinks that because I'm expecting I've turned into delicate spun glass-although I can't deny that his constant attention is flattering and quite, um, titillating.' She turned to Carolyn. 'I imagine your bridegroom won't be anxious to spend an evening without you.'

'Hopefully not.' An impish grin touched the corners of Carolyn's mouth. 'But I'm certain Daniel and Matthew won't object to spending a few hours together at their club. It will be good for them to miss us.'

A wave of pent-up emotions washed over Julianne, and she looked down. The gloomy shadows swallowing her feet in the dimly lit room seemed the personification of the future looming before her.

'You're both so fortunate to have husbands who love you so much,' she whispered, unable to keep the hitch of wistfulness from her voice.

'Are you all right, Julianne?'

Carolyn's question, along with her gentle touch on Julianne's sleeve, pulled her gaze upward. 'I'm fine,' she said, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Emily frowned. 'I don't believe you. You seem out of sorts. And preoccupied.'

I am. By the same thing that has haunted me for weeks… thoughts of something, someone, I can never have.

Yet she couldn't admit the truth, not even to her closest friends. They'd be shocked and warn her to turn her romantic inclinations toward someone suitable. Advice anyone would give an earl's daughter harboring an impossible fascination for a man whose circumstances were so far removed from her own.

'Has your mother said something to upset you?' asked Sarah.

Julianne grasped onto the excuse and shot her conscience an inward frown. After all, when didn't her formidable mother say something upsetting? Indeed, she'd done so only a few hours ago, and on a topic she could discuss with her friends. And one that brought reality back with a thump.

'Actually, yes,' Julianne admitted. 'I overheard her and Father talking earlier this evening about their plans for my future. Apparently the Duke of Eastling expressed interest in me.'

'The Duke of Eastling?' repeated Emily, her expression reflecting the same wide- eyed dismay Julianne felt at the name. 'But he's… so… so… not young.'

'He's only just turned forty,' Carolyn said.

'Which is only several years younger than my father,' Emily retorted. 'Besides, His Grace has already been married. And what did he do? Dragged his wife off to Cornwall, that's what. Which is no doubt where he'd want to drag Julianne as well.' She turned distressed eyes toward Julianne. 'Heavens, you cannot live in Cornwall. We'd never see you!'

'His wife died,' Julianne said, 'a year and a half ago. He's ready to remarry.'

'I thought something like this might be in the wind when I saw your mother speaking to him just before he asked you to waltz,' Sarah said.

'As did I,' Carolyn agreed. 'He's very eligible. And rich. And handsome.'

'Yes,' Julianne agreed. Indeed, most women found the duke, with his blond hair and light blue eyes, very attractive. But to Julianne, his good looks didn't matter. Not when he exuded the same icy, remote, uncompromising demeanor she'd been subjected to her entire life from her father. A shudder ran through her at the thought, and her father's stern voice seemed to echo in her ears, the mantra she'd heard countless times: The only thing a worthless daughter can do is marry to the advantage of her family. She longed for warmth and passion. Not chilly politeness and indifference.

'You are one of the loveliest, most sought-after young women in the ton,' Carolyn said in a soothing tone, giving her hand a squeeze. 'Your father will be entertaining many offers for you. I noted you shared a dance with Lord Haverly. He's a decent gentleman.'

'And as exciting as beige spots on a beige wall,' Julianne said with a sigh. 'He bears the same expression whether he's ecstatic or livid. Indeed, the only way to tell which one he might be is if he's forthcoming enough to say, 'I'm ecstatic' or 'I'm livid.' He spoke of nothing but the new cutaway jacket he just purchased. He waxed poetic about every stitch. I thought I would doze off during our waltz. Besides which, he's bald.'

'Not completely,' said Emily. 'He's just rather thin on top.'

'What about Lord Penniwick?' Sarah asked. 'You danced with him as well, and he's quite handsome. And he has a full head of hair.'

'Yes. But unfortunately his full head of hair only comes up to my chin. He doesn't speak to me-he speaks to my bosom.'

'An affliction that affects many men, I'm afraid, regardless of their height,' said Carolyn.

'Yes, but there is a lasciviousness to Penniwick's expression that makes my skin crawl. Every time he looks at me, I fear he's about to lick his chops. Then drool.'

'Drooling is definitely bad,' Emily said, wrinkling her nose. 'What about Lord Beechmore? He's extremely handsome and tall.'

Julianne shrugged. 'And is very well aware of his exceptional looks. I cannot see him falling in love with any woman when he is so completely enamored of himself. He's also very aloof.'

'People have said you're aloof, Julianne,' Emily pointed out with her usual brutal honesty, 'when you're actually just shy. Perhaps the same can be said about Lord Beechmore.'

'Perhaps,' Julianne conceded. 'But there is no mistaking his conceit.'

'Don't forget Logan Jennsen,' Sarah interjected. 'You spoke with him as well. He's incredibly handsome, incredibly tall, and not the least bit aloof. And he's fabulously wealthy.'

Julianne shook her head. 'I agree Mr. Jennsen is all those things, but it doesn't matter. Father would never consider him as he's a commoner, not to mention an American.'

'Lord Walston has called upon you several times,' Carolyn reminded her. 'He's attractive and seems quite nice.'

'I suppose. But he's just so…' She searched for a word to adequately describe the viscount who was, as Carolyn said, quite nice. They'd shared a pleasant conversation, but in spite of his obvious intelligence and kindness, he hadn't lit the slightest spark of interest within her.

'Dry,' she finally finished. 'He's like unbuttered toast.'

'Well, he's the best of the lot, so slather a bit of butter and jam on him,' Emily said with a hint of impatience in her voice. 'Unless…' Her eyes narrowed and filled with speculation, an expression that snaked a fissure of unease through Julianne. 'You're finding fault with gentlemen who, while perhaps not perfect, are certainly acceptable-and certainly far preferable to drag-you-off-to-Cornwall Eastling. The only reason I can fathom why you would do that is because your interest lies elsewhere.'

A flaming flush scorched her cheeks, and she gave a silent prayer of thanks for the dim lighting. How had their conversation floated into this perilous water?

'My interest lies in conducting a seance,' she said firmly.

'I meant that your interest lies in a different man,' Emily stated just as firmly. 'One we haven't mentioned.'

Botheration! Of course Emily, whom she'd known since childhood, would see through her diversionary tactic.

'Who is it?' Sarah asked, her face alight with curiosity.

Someone I can never, ever have. Someone who made every other gentleman mentioned pale in comparison. 'No one.' No one I can discuss with you. 'I'm just feeling unsettled because I suspect Father will be making his decision within the next