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heart. Why did she have to be so blasted beautiful?
    "You're quite welcome, Miss Peterson."
    Stepping to the side, he took the next available chair, while her father sat on her other side. Stephen's gaze met with Edwin's over her head, and an unspoken agreement was made. They must keep these avid young men at a distance, but what about him? How was he going to survive her company?
    His assistants took their places, with Geoffrey Walters sitting directly opposite Miss Peterson, a disquieting glint in the young man's eye.
    Stephen felt the urge to place his hand atop hers where it lay on the table, blatantly claiming her as his. Such a move would clear the acquisitive look from Geoffrey's gaze. But she wasn't his and never would be, he thought, clenching his fists tightly in his lap.

Chapter Three
    "And how did you come to grace us with your company, Miss Peterson?” Geoffrey asked.
    "I was invited, Mr. Walters.” She couldn't keep the coolness from her voice. Men were the same the world over. Only a few, like her father, knew women had a brain.
    She looked to her side and caught the subtle wink of encouragement from him. Yes, he was a unique breed. He had loved her mother to distraction and held a great respect for her intelligence. Something Kristina had never seen another man do.
    She'd seen many who nodded or quietly supported women's rights, but never one who truly respected his wife's opinions. Oh, he still held to the idea that a man was made to protect a woman and care for her, but he never once believed in stifling her beliefs or convictions. And yet, he was still the king of his castle as all men expected to be.
    "I say, aren't we going to wait for Mr. Applegate?” Scott Thomas asked. “I, for one, can't wait to make his acquaintance. I'm extremely interested in photography."
    Kristina bowed her head slightly to hide her smile, deciding to let her father and Doctor Baxter deal with the explanations—for the moment. She had no doubt these young men would converge on her with a multitude of questions and comments, some of which were likely to be rather coarse.
    She hoped that once Mr. Thomas discovered her identity, she might have a comrade of sorts. He seemed a pleasant young man, and fairly handsome. All three were fine-looking gentlemen, but nothing too singular. She couldn't help feeling older than them or perhaps simply more experienced. There was a surge of excitement and eagerness twinkling in their eyes, one she remembered experiencing herself with great fondness.
    Doctor Baxter roughly cleared his throat. “ Miss Applegate has joined us, gentlemen."
    She glanced at each of the young men and waited. First confusion, then shock, then disbelief, then ... yes, there it was, indignation, but only Mr. Walters.
    She thought as much. He did seem to be the stuffiest of the three. Not a hair stood out of place upon his head, the fair straight strands held fast with the abominable hair tonic some men used. His collar, starched perfectly, forced his chin up at a snobbish angle, and yet she had the distinct impression he would hold his head in just such a way without the collar. His eyes, however, were different. They reflected the color of a cloudless day and crystal waters, almost mesmerizing in their purity.
    "Good Lord. You can't be serious!"
    Mr. Walters’ outburst jolted her from her poetic mental ramblings and into a wrestling match with her napkin. Twisting the cloth in her lap beneath the table, wringing the life out of it, she held back her groan.
    Regardless of what her father thought or any of her acquaintances, she detested these confrontations. Why couldn't men simply accept the fact that her mind was more than an empty shell waiting to be filled with male opinions and dictates? All their fussing and such was a ridiculous waste of energy.
    Well, no sense in delaying the inevitable . “He is quite serious, Mr. Walters. I am Kris Applegate."
    "But you're a woman!"
    She raised a single brow as a chill