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tuned inner discipline, Isabella succeeded in firmly pushing the emotional memories aside by the time she reached the large entrance foyer on the first floor.
    She glanced briefly at the closed drawing room doors and wiped her damp palms on the skirts of her plain gray gown. Then she signaled the footman with a curt nod of her head and he opened the door.
    â€œMiss Browning,” he announced in a bored voice.
    Mrs. Braun ceased speaking the minute Isabella entered the room. Wearing an over-bright smile, she greeted her children’s governess breathlessly. Isabella could not help noticing how uncharacteristically nervous Mrs. Braun appeared.
    Mrs. Braun was a middle-aged matron with an ample figure, yet she was attractive in a rather obvious way. This afternoon her black hair was dressed high up on her head, with several wispy ringlets artfully arranged around her ears. Her sea-green gown was cut low for a woman of her size and revealed more than a hint of swelling bosom. Even though it was early afternoon, Mrs. Braun wore an impressive array of expensive jewelry, attesting more to her husband’s wealth than to her good taste.
    Mr. Braun was the exact opposite of his wife. Tall, fair-haired, and almost painfully thin, he was hardly the image of a successful merchant. He was dressed in his customary somber black business suit, and Isabella belatedly realized that he normally was at his office down on Market Street at this hour of the day. He, too, seemed on edge.
    â€œThank you for coming so promptly, Miss Browning,” Mr. Braun said. He cleared his throat loudly. “Please, do sit down.”
    With a questioning look, Isabella complied with his request, taking the seat directly across from Mrs. Braun. After Isabella was seated, Mr. Braun joined his wife on the settee. Isabella shifted her gaze back and forth between the two, from the grinning face of Mrs. Braun to the somber continence of Mr. Braun, trying to read from their very opposite expressions what was happening.
    â€œNow then, Miss Browning, I would like to ask you—” Mr. Braun began, but he was cut off by a loud gasp of astonishment from Isabella.
    Isabella could scarcely believe she had missed seeing the third occupant of the room until this very moment. He was leaning casually against the wall, a glass in his hand. When their eyes met, he flashed a slow and tantalizingly wicked grin. Everything else seemed to recede into the distance as Isabella stared in appalled silence at the rude man who had accosted her in the park.
    She was conscious of a sudden feeling that the room had shrunk in size. There was something infinitely more unsettling about having to face this strange man in closed quarters. Instinctively she wanted to flee, but she had far too much common sense to allow herself to act in such an irrational manner in front of her employers.
    The stranger’s larger-than-life presence dominated the room. He was staring intently at Isabella, and when he caught her eye again, he gave her a mocking bow. Then he spoke.
    â€œAs you can clearly see, Mr. Braun, this woman knows me,” he stated in an arrogant voice.
    â€œIs this true?” Mrs. Braun asked. “Are you acquainted with the earl?”
    â€œI have seen him before,” Isabella admitted slowly, her mind whirling in confusion. An earl? This strange man who had spent the morning stalking her through the park was an earl. But what was he doing here? Was he a friend of the Brauns?
    â€œOh, dear,” Mrs. Braun exclaimed breathlessly. “I am afraid we owe you an apology, my lord.” She turned a jaundiced eye to Isabella. Mrs. Braun looked properly scandalized. “You must believe we had no idea who she really was when we hired her.”
    â€œDo not concern yourself, Mrs. Braun,” the earl replied in . an even tone. “I found it equally baffling to discover Emmeline was in your employ. And doing such a credible job.” He shot Isabella a