"My nephew is incorrigible, you'd be wise to pay him no mind. He is also alarmingly charming. Which is rather half the trouble."
— The Dowager Duchess of Ashworth, whose patience for nephews is wearing thin
He's London's golden boy. She's been jilted. Twice.
The Earl of Stratton is the heir to a dukedom, for heaven's sake. He could have his pick of young ladies. And yet, here he is, fawning over the debutante the ton has not-so-affectionately dubbed "Cast-Off Clarissa."
Is it out of the goodness of his heart? No. Of course not. Lady Clarissa Whitfield might be clumsy and incurably talkative, but she is not naive enough to believe the great and charming Earl is truly smitten with her.
Kit is being paid for this performance. And all so Clarissa can survive this Season and choose a husband for herself before her parents step in and make the choice for her.
The only problem is, Kit is very good at his job. Too good. His ridiculous compliments make her laugh. His teasing makes her forget she's supposed to be silent. And the more time she spends with him, the more glimpses she catches of something underneath the charm — a man hiding a debt he refuses to explain, and a kindness he's determined no one should see.
It can't be real. He's been paid. Hasn't he?
But if Kit's devotion is nothing more than a very expensive performance, why does Clarissa keep wondering who he's actually trying to save?
And why does she so desperately hope it might be her?
A sweet, standalone Regency romance with witty banter, swoony kisses, and one very expensive courtship.
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