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secretive smile. He reached for his teacup. “Shall I assume that this was the reason you invited me here?”
    “Actually, it was because I wanted to introduce you to my mother so that she’ll side with me about your being a good match with Margaret.”
    Before the baroness could reply, David pulled out the list Amelia had sent and handed it to her. “And what do you think of these young ladies, Lady Lanfordshire?”
    The matron accepted the list, sending a warning look toward Amelia. “All of them come from good families. But I’m not certain how well they would do as a stepmother to your daughter.” She began going down each name, listing the attributes of each. Amelia took a sip of her tea, presumably feigning obedience.
    He hardly heard a word Lady Lanfordshire said. He was watching the way Amelia’s hands moved over the cup, and how her lips touched the porcelain rim. She sent him an impish smile when she caught him staring, and it was like a bullet to his brain.
    Stop looking at her. She’s not for you.
    He wanted an older woman, someone who could help him rear Christine and teach her to be a young lady. Not someone who would train his daughter how to be rebellious.
    “In summary, I believe that either Miss Harrow or Miss Pearson would be an excellent choice for you,” Lady Lanfordshire finished.
    “Not your own daughter?” he prompted, stealing another look at Amelia.
    “Margaret has expressed a reluctance to marry,” she admitted. “After what that horrid Lord Lisford did to her, it’s no wonder.”
    “He’s not a blackguard,” Amelia argued. “He simply made wrong choices.”
    David finished his tea and replaced the cup, giving Lady Lanfordshire his full attention. “I must agree with you, Lady Lanfordshire. The man is indeed a rake, and I should hate to see any of your daughters associated with the likes of him.”
    All of the humor disappeared from Amelia’s face, and she sent him a furious glare. David met her gaze coolly. Was she honestly expecting him to take her side in this? He knew Charles Newport well enough. The man was irresponsible and had a reputation for draining money from his family. He’d sooner see Amelia wedded to a wolf than a man like the viscount.
    “I quite agree,” her mother echoed.
    But the tight look on Amelia’s face held more than anger. Her fists were clenched against the cushions, and she looked ready to tell him to go to the devil.
    He sent her a smile, but in her eyes, he saw war brewing.

    Amelia stood inside the ballroom, fuming inwardly. She knew that she ought not to say anything to Lord Castledon. A proper lady like Margaret would never dream of it. But even three days later, she was still angry with him for insinuating to her mother that Lord Lisford was a bad marital choice. True, the viscount had made countless mistakes. But she had caught a glimpse of a good man on their drive the other morning. Beneath his practiced words and suave manner was a man in great need of a woman’s love.
    Amelia believed, in her heart, that she could help Charles Newport. He could be redeemed, even after all that he’d done.
    Her sister Victoria, the Duchess of Worthingstone, was hosting tonight’s soirée, and Amelia had managed an invitation for Lady Sarah, though she hadn’t told Toria why. If somehow Lady Sarah met the gentleman of her dreams, it would solve everything. Assuming the woman didn’t resort to blackmail.
    Logic told her to inform the Duke of Worthingstone. He could have Lady Sarah brought up on charges of blackmail, if needed. But, as the woman had said, there was no tangible proof.
    Once again, Amelia dug deep with her instincts, trying to determine the woman’s character. Lady Sarah didn’t seem to be the sort of person who would resort to criminal behavior—more of a woman trying to escape a fate she didn’t want.
    Please let this end , Amelia prayed. Having a conversation with her sisters about a possible scandal that would drag all of their