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growing warm and wet until she was shamefully aroused.
    The man was becoming more amorous. He tipped his partner backward so she was draped over his arm. At the change of position, her features were finally visible.
    It was the housemaid who’d initially escorted Amelia to her room! It was the housemaid who’d offered to unpack her bag! It was the housemaid who’d been assigned to attend Amelia during her stay! But considering what Amelia was witnessing, she couldn’t imagine how she’d ever look the woman in the eye again. She’d be too embarrassed to acknowledge her or converse.
    She gasped aloud—she couldn’t help it—the fireplace poker sliding to the rug with a muted thud.
    The ardent trio heard her, and they froze, scowling. Their momentary confusion gave Amelia the split second required to turn and run.
    As she sprinted through the door, the man asked, “Was there someone out there?”
    “If there was,” a maid replied, “they definitely got an eyeful.”
    Hilarious laughter rang out, but Amelia ignored it and kept on, dashing down the hall as if she was a madwoman.
    Distractedly, she’d realized that she’d loitered too long and was late for her appointment with the earl, which was alarming.
    In light of her disoriented state, how would she sit and chat? How would she pretend she was fine, that she was glad to have arrived? How would she answer questions, drink tea, and smile prettily?
    The squalid scene was burned in her mind, and it seemed an ill omen. If this was her beginning, how would the rest of it go?

CHAPTER TWO
    “Miss Hubbard, we meet at last.”
    “Lord Sidwell.”
    Amelia curtsied deeply, anxious to show sufficient deference. She’d never been in the presence of such a distinguished person and didn’t want to make any mistakes.
    “Sit, sit.” He waved to a nearby chair.
    “I will, thank you,” she replied as she slid onto it.
    They were in his library, and he was seated behind his desk. It was an imposing swath of mahogany that underscored his position in the world.
    An older man, he was probably sixty, balding with muttonchops that covered much of his face. He was short and exceedingly plump from the rich diet his fortune provided, and while his gray eyes seemed alert and keen, he didn’t project an aura of authority or power. She wondered if—beneath the wealth and pomposity—he wasn’t a bit of a bungler.
    “I haven’t ordered tea,” he said. “I thought we’d confer, then have our refreshments served in the main parlor.”
    “Whatever you wish is fine with me.”
    She forced a smile, but could feel it quavering. She was still undone by the raucous spectacle she’d viewed upstairs, and it was difficult to pretend she was calm and composed.
    “I was nervous about this betrothal,” he surprised her by admitting, “but now that I’ve seen you, I’m absolutely bowled over.”
    “Bowled over?” She chuckled. “Why would you be?”
    “You’re quite stunning, Miss Hubbard.”
    “Stunning? My goodness. I’m flattered that you would think so.”
    “Miss Peabody insisted you were fetching, but people have hedged the truth when arranging a match such as this one.”
    “Why would they?”
    “Well, a father might have a daughter who’s not exactly winsome, so he’d exaggerate her assets to obtain the union he sought. I’m delighted to note that Miss Peabody was straightforward in her description of you.”
    “What else did she say about me?” Amelia wasn’t sure she had the right to inquire, but she was dying to know how the engagement had come about.
    “She said you were striking and educated and pleasant.”
    “She said all that? I’m flattered again. I always hoped she had a high opinion of me.”
    “She had a very high opinion.”
    “I have a question that’s been bothering me.”
    “I would imagine you have many. Which one is vexing you at the moment?”
    “Why did you pick me?” She gestured around the ostentatious room. “Before I arrived, I