This situation had gone quite far enough. Sammie cleared her throat and pushed her spectacles higher on her nose. "Papa. I love working with Hubert in his laboratory and have no intention of stopping, especially now as my own experiments are showing promise of a breakthrough. And I am perfectly happy at the prospect of being a doting aunt to my future nieces and nephews. I have no desire to become Major Wilshire's wife, and frankly, I'm stunned that you would even suggest such a thing."

"Major Wilshire is a fine man."

"Yes, he is. He is also old enough to be my father."

"He is only three and forty-"

"Provided he had children when he was quite young," she continued smoothly, as if her father hadn't spoken. "But more importantly, I don't love him, and he does not love me."

"Perhaps not, but he certainly holds you in some affection."

"Certainly not enough to marry me."

"On the contrary, he quite readily agreed to the match."

A heavy silence filled the air as the significance of his words settled upon her. "What do you mean, he agreed to the match?" she asked, when she finally located her voice. "Papa, please tell me you haven't already discussed this with Major Wilshire."

"Well, of course I have. Everything is settled. The Major couldn't be happier. Nor your mother and I. Congratulations, my dear. You're officially betrothed."

"Betrothed!" Samantha's explosive reply rang through the air like a pistol shot. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to draw deep, calming breaths. Mama had tried unsuccessfully in the past to find suitors for her, but had finally abandoned the effort in favor of focusing her attention on her three younger daughters-all beauties of the first water.

But ever since Emily's wedding three months ago, Mama's matchmaking eye had once again focused on her one remaining unmarried daughter-a turn of events Sammie should have anticipated, but hadn't.