“A lionized lion—even worse. That fact dealt him far too many aces, which he was never slow to use. She’d taken to urging her mother and sister to arrive early at every major event so she could assemble a useful circle of gentlemen to serve as a screen. She accepted that she had to deal with Martin, that she could do nothing other than to wait him out, holding steadfast in her requirement for “something more.” If he was the rock, she was the tide, and so on. If she understood Lady Osbaldestone c...orrectly, then the nature of their future hinged on her stubbornness. Lady Musselford’s ball was certain to be a crush. The Mussleford girls were ravishing and both were making their formal bow to the ton that night. Amanda prayed one or other would do something to keep the ton’s collective eye on them—away from her and her determined would-be consort. She was growing rather tired of having her every move remarked. “Miss Cynster! I had great hopes you would attend tonight.” Amanda started; she blinked as Percival Lytton-Smythe bowed before her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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