"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.