Page 5 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

Frederick.

Frank.

Alexander.

Gregory.

Jonathan.

The list was embarrassingly long. Those were just the first six names that had popped into her head. Each season she had found a man that caught her eye. And each season, each ball, each dance passed without a second glance from them. Eventually Amelia acknowledged that she had the uncanniest ability to fall for the precise man that had no interest in her.

Since she was unwilling to settle for anything less than love, the seasons passed without a proposal.

“A proposal?” she scoffed at herself in a low voice. “Not even a dance, never mind a proposal.”

“Excuse me?” the man still at her side asked, nonplussed. “I don’t believe there are any dances this evening.”

“Oh. Pardon me. I was just—” talking to myself? Snorting at my own absurdity? Laughing at the utter demise of all my dreams?

Etiquette obliged her to muster up an explanation. “I was just thinking about something.” Well…that was better than the alternatives she had thought up.

“I see. Oh—” the man made a motion to no one across the room. “I see someone calling me. I must be off and attend to my…erm…friend.”

Ah yes. The fakeI have a friend who needs meexcuse. That was more commonplace behavior in her presence. “Of course,” Amelia politely accepted the excuse. “Drat. Where did the apparent arrogant duke with a devastating flaw go off to now?”

Her eyes scanned the room over the rim of her glass. It was about as surreptitious as she knew how to be.

When her eyes landed on the back of the Corinthian, she stopped and about melted on the spot. Where was her fan when she needed it? God. Even from behind, he had a presence about him.

Maybe something good could come of all this scandal. She could choose him.

Maybe.

Then again. Maybe he was exactly what she didn’t need to redeem themselves from the scandal they were in.

Not for the first time this evening, Amelia sighed deeply, as if a breath could blow away the burden on her shoulders.

But it was her responsibility to fix this…situation…even if she wasn’t the one who caused it. If she didn’t act quickly enough, her father would fix it for them. And she knew that way led to ruin.

So perhaps Mrs. Dove-Lyon had been correct after all. Maybe she wouldn’t find what she was looking for, but Amelia was desperate. Perhaps trusting the woman was the wise thing to do. She hadn’t pressured Amelia into anything. Had even steered her away from her services so as not to disappoint her. If itwasn’t just about the money for her, perhaps she could be trusted.

Yes. She’d let the older woman make the choice.

Let fate be what it will.

Chapter Four

“Ha! You werethe slowest,” Damien declared loudly in Benedict’s general direction as the last shot of something putrid burned the back of his throat.

“Fine. What’s the next bet?” Benedict conceded easily. Whatever they had been drinking wasn’t worth it.

“That’s the last bet. You’ve lost the last two of three.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…well, I think you know what it means, don’t you?” Knowingly, Damien tilted his head at him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew,” Benedict gritted out, keeping his lips fixed in a tight line.