By Jayne Rivers

A desperate earl. A bluestocking heiress. A marriage of convenience gone awry.

Miss Amelia Hart may have a hefty dowry, but she seems to be invisible to eligible gentlemen. When the charming and handsome Earl of Longley begins courting her, she’s baffled. Until she realizes that he’s a fortune hunter.

Amelia proposes a mutually beneficial arrangement that could prove dangerous to her heart. They wed: he gets access to her dowry, and she has the freedom she’s always dreamed of…as long as she doesn’t fall for him.

Resisting the earl’s gentle touches and kind words proves almost impossible, but Amelia knows she isn’t the type of woman to entice a man like him. Loving her new husband can only end in heartbreak.

Andrew studied the strange woman, intrigued. She stared back at him with wide eyes the color of the sky on a clear summer’s day. He’d been looking for her ever since speaking with her mother, but securing an invitation to meet Miss Hart had proven much simpler than actually locating the chit.

He’d never expected to find her behind the shrubbery.

“S-sir.” She straightened and smoothed her free hand down the front of her dress. Something fascinating flashed through her eyes. “I was not hiding. I was merely… rearranging the greenery.”

He chuckled, enchanted by the little liar. “There are servants for that.”

Surely, she was used to having servants around. A man as rich as her father must have dozens of them.

Miss Hart raised her pert, slightly pointed nose. “I enjoy horticulture.”

“You do?” he asked, amused.

“Yes.” She sounded very uncertain. “It is a hobby of mine.”

Entertained as he was by her falsehoods, he needed to know what she was doing over here.

He took two steps toward her, ensuring that no one would be able to overhear their conversation. “Did someone upset you?”

She sighed and squeezed those bright eyes shut, only for them to flutter open a moment later. “This”—she gestured at their surroundings—“is quite a change of pace for me. I simply needed a moment alone to gather my thoughts.”

Guilt flashed through him. While he’d never been one to get overwhelmed by social events, Ashford was, so he was familiar with how debilitating it could be. She’d sought out a few seconds of peace, and he’d intruded like a clumsy oaf.

“My apologies for the interruption. If you need a while longer, I can stand guard and ensure no one approaches.” It was the best peace offering he could think of, especially considering that he didn’t wish to alienate Miss Hart.

It was refreshing to speak with a woman who wasn’t either simpering at everything he said or too intimidated to respond.

She cocked her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I do believe it would be most improper. After all, we haven’t even been introduced.”

“Ah, but I have met your mother, and I am certain I have her blessing to introduce myself to you.” Mrs. Hart had been practically gleeful when he’d asked her about her daughter. “I’m the Earl of Longley.”

To his surprise, she cringed. “I see.”

She didn’t say anything more, and he wasn’t sure why his identity caused her distress.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, to break the silence. “Assuming this dance is not promised to someone else.”

She laughed. “I am quite sure it is, but I’m avoiding taking part.”

He grinned, relieved she was conversing with him again. “Well, what about the next one, then?”

“I suppose so.” She held out her hand for him to look at her card.

He hid his amusement as he did so. He wasn’t accustomed to young women being quite so unimpressed by him. He read the list of names on her card, his eyebrow rising. Mrs. Hart hadn’t wasted any time in thrusting her daughter at every available titled man in the room, and a few second sons as well.

The next dance already had a name scrawled beside it, but he crossed it out and added his own. Her lips parted, and a breath gusted between them.

He put a finger to his lips. “Our secret. Trust me, you don’t want to dance with Lord Brunner.”

He half expected her to protest, but instead, her mouth curved into a sly smile.

“In that case, I appreciate your assistance.”

The music ended, and he offered her his hand. “If we intend to dance, we must, unfortunately, leave the cover of your beloved shrubbery.”

She stifled a laugh. “You are absurd, my lord.”

He winked. “Better that than boring.”