So when Viscount Northville practically tosses his niece in Somersworth's path, he's suspicious. There must be something wrong with the lady. Sure, she's beautiful, and built for sin, but she can't be right in the head to consider him for a husband.
Turns out, she isn't. Considering him that is. The moment they're alone, she tells him that she would rather die miserable and alone than marry him. But she does have a bargain in mind. She'll help him clean up his reputation long enough to find a suitable lady and he'll help her to secretly participate in all the fun that debutantes are denied. She's got a list:
A masquerade ball.
A tryst in the library.
A moonlight kiss.
It's his kind of deal.
The only other problem? Turns out, she's his kind of lady