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in quite some time, I daresay that hasn’t changed. So it’s best that I know as little as possible. And Winnie”—Bea waved in herpregnant sister’s direction—“can’t be of any real help at the moment—”
    “Except for the dispensing of wise and clever advice.” Winnie grinned. “And perhaps the occasional offering of a brilliant plot or scheme.”
    “It is worthy of consideration,” Amelia said slowly. Still, the inclusion of a real flesh-and-blood man in her efforts—for advice if for no other reason—made a fair amount of sense.
    “Now.” Bea’s brow furrowed with thought. “All we have to do is find a man who knows how to court a woman.”
    “No.” Winnie shook her head. “A man who knows how to seduce a woman. Who has experience in these matters.”
    “Very good.” Bea beamed at her sister. “Such a man, by his very nature, would be discreet.”
    “A man who has just as much to lose if the truth were known as I do,” Amelia said under her breath, then smiled slowly. “And, dear sisters, I have the perfect candidate.”

Chapter 4
    W hat was the man waiting for?
    Amelia resisted the urge to stare at her husband from across the dinner table. Or better yet, throw her glass at his head. This morning he had said he wished to discuss her plans further, and yet, thus far, he hadn’t so much as alluded to their conversation. It was most annoying. He was behaving as if nothing of importance had occurred whatsoever. She tried to ignore the nagging thought that perhaps to him, nothing had.
    Dinner had been a series of long, silent moments punctuated with periodic polite requests to pass something inconsequential, accompanied by pleasant smiles and occasional meaningless comments about the weather or an upcoming social event or the uneasy state of the world. Amelia was grateful that she and Robert had, early in their marriage,developed the habit of dismissing the servants between courses, to be summoned by a bell if necessary, rather than have them waiting in the room as her parents did. They would surely notice the beef wasn’t the only thing in the room that one could cut with a knife. That said habit had begun because they had both relished time spent alone in each other’s company for discussion of serious issues, or the kind of flirtatious banter that inevitably led to their retiring early, now struck her as ironic and perhaps even sad.
    In spite of Cook’s usual excellent offering, Amelia had no interest in food. Apprehension had stolen her appetite, although Robert seemed to have no similar problem. Surely the man couldn’t have forgotten her announcement. Or perhaps, in spite of his initial reaction, he simply didn’t care. She had no doubt that he had cared once. Determination squared her shoulders. Well, by God, she would make him care again. Or kill him in the process. Bea wasn’t the only one with murderous thoughts regarding men.
    She cleared her throat. “Robert, I think we should—”
    “Amelia,” he said at precisely the same moment. “I believe we have—”
    They stopped and stared at each other. The tiniest hint of a smile quirked the corners of Robert’s mouth. “Do go on, my dear.”
    What on earth did he have to smile about? “I was saying that perhaps we should talk.”
    “My thoughts exactly.” He nodded and stood. His tone was cordial but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye. “Would you be so kind as to join me in the library?”
    “For brandy and cigars no doubt,” she said without thinking, matching her tone to his.
    He chuckled. “If you wish.” He moved to her chair and pulled it out for her. “Although I have never noticed any particular appreciation on your part for cigars.”
    She stood and accepted his arm. “I daresay there are any number of appreciations on my part that you haven’t noticed.”
    “Obviously I have been remiss in that respect.” He escorted her the short distance from the dining room to the library, released her arm, and