The feeling that she was being watched suddenly flooded through her. A heated flush, the sort that always stained her pale skin a telltale red whenever she experienced any sort of nervousness, whooshed upward from her neck, flaming her face.

She turned, scanning the area, and saw nothing amiss. She was alone. Your imagination is running amok as usual.

Hoping she didn't look as furtive as she felt, she took one last glance around, then opened the third door. She stepped quickly into the room, closing the door behind her.

"It's about time you arrived."

The whisper came from directly beside her, and Julianne barely squelched the startled cry that rose to her lips. Leaning back against the oak panel, she looked around the shadowed library, illuminated in a curtain of dull gold from the low-burning fire glowing in the grate. Three pairs of eyes scrutinized her.

"We were beginning to think you weren't going to come," said Lady Emily Stapleford, impatiently pulling Julianne away from the door. "At best we have only a few minutes together before someone notes our absence from the party. What on earth detained you?"

"It was difficult to escape Mother," Julianne said. As she did at every soiree, the Countess of Gatesbourne took her duty of advantageously placing her only daughter in the path of every eligible titled gentleman in attendance very seriously. Such contrivances only served to render Julianne more shy than usual, a fact that greatly displeased her mother, who was not shy about voicing her displeasure.

Julianne's three friends exchanged a glance then gave an understanding nod. They well knew the countess's overbearing nature.

"Well, we're just glad you're here," said Carolyn Sutton, Countess Surbrooke, with a smile. "For a moment I thought perhaps a ghost absconded with you."