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Ambrosia Flux was beside herself. As the treasurer of the Ladies' Auxiliary for Charitable Good Deeds to All in the County and Community, she had total access to the group's funds.

How easy it had been to grab a few dollars on odd occasions when she needed the extra cash.

There were always invitations to tea rooms, lunches, and any number of afternoon soirees that Ambrosia felt compelled to attend. But her husband, Hebrides, kept such a tight rein on the household finances, Ambrosia never had so much as a dime for these nice extras.

And now the fund was short one hundred sixty seven dollars and forty-three cents.

A fortune!

When would the ladies discover the discrepancy?

Sooner rather than later, she feared.

And how on earth had the sum ballooned so quickly?

It was unimaginable.

Ambrosia fussed and fumed. What was she going to do?

She already had one mark against her because she'd wed Hebrides Flux. His family had not been held in high regard for five or six generations at least.

With this added blunder, polite society would forever look down on her. The ladies she called friends would be sure to say her humiliation and downfall was inevitable.

Why, they'd cast her out of the club, and worse, into Outer Darkness.

She'd be shunned. Ignored. And laughed at.

She was a thief, and not of the noble variety, like robbing the rich to pay the poor.

No.

Just the opposite.

Maybe the earth would swallow her now and spare her the inevitable disgrace that was her sure fate.

Ambrosia felt sick to her stomach.

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