"What Emily means," Emily said, shooting a frown around the group, "is that until I saw him in this room with Julianne, I'd never seen Mr. Mayne's eyes be anything other than cool and impassive. Dispassionate, really. And they were when he looked at anything or anyone in this room except you, Julianne. When he looked at you, his eyes seemed to-"

"Breathe fire," Sarah broke in.

"He is clearly smitten," Carolyn agreed. "Certainly he desires you." Her gaze settled on Julianne. "And based on the way you looked at him…"

Carolyn fell silent, but her eyes were filled with concern.

Oh, dear. "How did I look at him?" Julianne asked, hoping her dismay didn't show.

"As if his desire for you was mutual," Carolyn said softly. She reached out and clasped Julianne's hand. "You mustn't do anything foolish. Think of the repercussions-"

"Just because he desires her-and truly what man wouldn't," Emily broke in, "doesn't mean she desires him. Heavens, why would she? He's nothing like the men of the ton."

"Which is not necessarily a bad thing," Sarah said.

Emily looked toward the ceiling. "Says the new marchioness. You didn't marry a Bow Street Runner; you married a marquess."

"Because I was in love with him," Sarah whispered. "I didn't care a jot for Matthew's title. Or his money-which, as you'll recall, he didn't have any of at the time. I'd have married Matthew if he were a sailor or a-"

"Yes, yes, that's fine for you to say, but you didn't grow up as Julianne did," Emily insisted. "She's the daughter of an earl. Cavorting with a Runner simply isn't done."

"Who says I'm cavorting-?" Julianne tried to break in, but Sarah rolled right over her, saying, "You'd prefer that she marry a man she doesn't love, a man she barely knows, simply because he's a duke?"

"At least the duke is of our class," Emily said.

Sarah straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I'm not of your class, Emily. Neither is Carolyn. Our father was a mere physician."

Emily huffed out an exasperated breath. "You're taking this the wrong way, Sarah. I'm not trying to be haughty-"

"Yet you are being so just the same-"

"I'm merely pointing out that the man is a commoner-"

"As were Carolyn and I until our marriages."

"But you were both completely respectable."

"What is not respectable about a man who captures criminals and upholds the law?" Sarah demanded.

Emily's lips tightened. "Nothing," she admitted after a long pause. "But he has no business casting his eye on Julianne, who is so far above his station as to be laughable. Why, it's like that odious Mr. Jennsen thinking he was good enough for Carolyn."

"Actually, the problem wasn't that I thought Mr. Jennsen wasn't good enough for me," Carolyn broke in. "It was that my heart already belonged to Daniel." Her troubled gaze rested on Julianne. "But Emily is correct; I was not born an earl's daughter and as such my marriage was a huge social step up for me. What I think we're all trying to say," she continued in her calm voice, squeezing Julianne's hand, "is that we're concerned and want what's best for you. One can't fault a man for desiring a beautiful woman like you; it merely shows he has excellent taste. So long as he doesn't act on those feelings. Desire can be a very strong temptation, but you mustn't do something you'll regret. You must be very cautious, especially as he's staying here in the house."

"Cautious?" Sarah repeated softly. "As you were cautious with Daniel, Carolyn? As I was with Matthew?"

Before Julianne could even think of a reply, the French windows opened. She turned and saw Gideon stepping over the threshold. His gaze scanned the group. "Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"Not at all," Sarah said with a bright smile. She stood. "Although it is time for us to depart."

Carolyn and Emily rose, as did Julianne. She escorted her friends to the foyer, where Winslow handed them their shawls and bonnets. As Emily hugged her good-bye, her friend whispered, "Don't forget you're soon to be a duchess. Which is what you deserve to be. We'll talk more tomorrow night at the duke's party." Next, Carolyn hugged her and whispered, "Don't do anything you'll regret. If you need me, send word."

Sarah merely kissed both her cheeks and followed Emily and Carolyn from the house. Julianne watched them from the open door, her thoughts in a whirl. They were halfway down the path leading to the street when Sarah exclaimed, "Heavens, I left my reticule. I'll be right back."

She walked swiftly back up the path and reentered the foyer and turned to Winslow. "I forgot my reticule in the drawing room, Winslow. Would you be so kind as to get it for me?"

"Of course, Lady Langston."

As soon as Winslow departed, Sarah grabbed Julianne's hand. "Emily and Carolyn are wrong," she said, her bespectacled gaze serious. "I don't believe Mr. Mayne merely desires you, Julianne. I think he is in love with you."

Julianne had to lock her knees to keep them from sagging. "How… what makes you say that?"

"I've been watching him-not just today, but at Lord Daltry's party, and even before that, when we first met him two months ago. I suspected he harbored strong feelings for you, but seeing him today solidified my suspicions. He may not realize the depth of his feelings himself yet-men tend to be slower to comprehend matters of the heart. But I'd stake everything I own that he's in love with you." She studied Julianne's eyes. "Do you care for him?"

The love and understanding shining from Sarah's eyes made it impossible for Julianne to lie. "I… I cannot deny I'm attracted to him. But it doesn't matter-"

"Of course it matters. Julianne… is he the one who kissed you?"

Julianne dropped her chin and looked at the floor. Then nodded miserably and looked up. "Yes."

Sarah gripped her shoulders and gave a grim nod. "I thought so. Thank you for telling me. I know it can't have been easy to share something so personal, nor has it been easy to keep all this inside you. Having recently gone through the same confusing upheaval of emotions, I know." Her gaze searched Julianne's. "Believe me, I know. And now that I know the who, we can work on the how."

Julianne frowned. "What do you mean?"

The sound of footsteps had her turning toward the corridor. Winslow approached, his brow puckered. "I'm afraid your reticule wasn't in the drawing room, Lady Langston. Perhaps you left it in your carriage?"

Sarah's eyes widened, then she laughed. "Heavens, I just recalled I didn't even bring a reticule with me." She gave Julianne a quick hug and whispered in her ear, "Chin up. We'll talk more tomorrow at the duke's party. In the meanwhile, follow your heart, Julianne. Your heart knows what is right. And you'll always, always have my love and support."

And then she was gone, leaving Julianne with far more questions than when she'd arrived. But one thought reverberated through Julianne's mind, wrapping around her, refusing to let go.

Was it possible that Sarah was right? Could Gideon be in love with her? A scary question indeed. But not nearly as frightening as the one that followed on its heels: a question she'd deliberately and steadfastly refused to even consider until now, when it hit her too hard to ignore.

Was she in love with Gideon?

Chapter 16

Gideon stood in the foyer, watching the earl accept his hat and walking stick from Winslow, and the countess adjust her gloves. He tried to recall the last time he'd found himself in the company of such a disagreeable couple and came up blank. After eating dinner in the kitchen, he'd walked the perimeter of the house and grounds, making certain all was secure, then checked every last window and door in the house. Everything was locked.

"We'll be home early," the countess said, frowning at Julianne, who stood still as a statue. "Although I can't abide Lady Foy's annual musicale, we must of course put in an appearance." Her gaze raked over Julianne, and she made a tsking sound. "You're to retire early. There are shadows beneath your eyes, and that will never do. You must look perfectly fresh and stunning for the duke's party tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother."

A muscle ticked in Gideon's jaw. Everything about the countess grated on his nerves. Her voice. Her demeanor. And the bloody nasty tone she used toward Julianne. He would have liked nothing more than to stomp across the fancy marble tiles and stick his nose in her fancy face and tell her to shut her bloody stupid mouth. She showed not the slightest bit of sympathy toward her daughter with regard to the fright she'd suffered, and if her concern stemmed from anything more than a worry about what the duke's reaction might be, she kept it well hidden.