The first man Lisa had signaled needed a wealthy bride had been older than her father; round and pasty faced. He’d spent their entire dance complaining about his gout while leering at her breasts through her gown. The second prospect had been younger, but he’d been tall, alarmingly thin and had actually asked to check her teeth as if she were a horse at auction, and that without her stating that she was in the market for a husband. The third had been the young one, but he had been far too young. In fact, she suspected he wasn’t more than sixteen though he’d claimed to be older. His face had been spotty and he’d had the distressing habit of picking at it as he’d talked to her before and after their dance. Though, he hadn’t really talked so much as stuttered out his desire to dance with her.

Now she was dancing with Lord Willthrop, who, while a little younger than her father, also had a hook nose that appeared to cause him some trouble since he was constantly sniffing. He also had terrible breath and a very pompous attitude.

Suzette was beginning to despair that her plan was doomed. For she’d happily embrace scandal and ruination before she’d embrace any of the men she’d so far encountered. Of course, she didn’t really have that option, because it wouldn’t just be herself cast into scandal if she failed to find a husband and claim her dower. Her father would as well, though it was little more than he deserved for bringing this down upon them all, but so would her little sister Lisa and—married or not—Christiana as well would suffer. Suzette couldn’t allow that to happen if she could prevent it.

She grimaced at the thought, and then sighed with relief as the dance finally came to an end. Suzette managed not to rush rudely away from Willthrop to get as far from his bad breath as she could. While she would have liked to, she had been raised better than that and, instead, allowed him to walk her off the dance floor, nodding stiffly as he thanked her for the dance.

“I believe the next dance is mine.”

Suzette paused to glance to the man who had appeared at her side as she and Willthrop reached the edge of the dance floor.

“Ah, Danvers,” Willthrop said in greeting. He then turned to nod to Suzette before moving off into the crowd.