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need to lay some groundwork, and if you’ve set your heart on four weeks, then we’ll do it in four weeks.” She glanced up; he hurried on before she could argue. “Here’s my plan.”
    He’d expected to have two months or more to accomplish it, but four weeks . . . he could seduce any woman in four weeks.
    â€œWe need society simply to accept our marriage—there’s no reason it won’t. As far as anyone knows, we suit to a tee. All we need do is lead them to the realization gradually, before we make any announcement.”
    She nodded. “Don’t startle the horses.”
    â€œExactly. As I see it, the easiest, most believable path for us to follow is for me to start looking around—I won’t need to look far for my eye to fall on you. You were bridesmaid to my groomsman at Martin and Amanda’s wedding. You’re in Emily and Anne’s company much of the time. Given we’veknown each other for so long, there’s no reason I can’t fix my interest on you more or less at first glance.”
    Her expression told him she was following his reasoning, seeing the picture he was painting. “Then,” he stated, “we go through the customary stages of courtship, although as you insist on a June wedding, it’ll have to be a whirlwind one.”
    A slight frown marred her brow. “You mean we should pretend that we’re . . . attracted in the usual way?”
    There wouldn’t be any pretense involved, not if he had any say in the matter; he fully intended their courtship—her seduction—to be real. “We do the usual things—meet at balls and parties, go on outings, and so on. With the Season slowing down and Emily and Anne to be entertained, we won’t have any difficulty inventing occasions.”
    â€œHmm . . . that’s all very well, but do we really need four weeks?” They’d reached the corner of the room; she halted and faced him. “Everyone already knows I’ve been looking around.”
    â€œIndeed—that will fit, too.” He looped his arm in hers and drew her on, still progressing slowly as if scanning the cases. “We can mutually notice each other, and go on from there. You’ve had plenty of experience flirting over the last years—just play it by ear and follow my lead.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him; her chin set. “I still don’t see why we need take four weeks . I can pretend to fall in love in one.”
    He bit his tongue on an unwise rejoinder and narrowed his eyes back. “Four weeks. You offered, I accepted, but I call the play from now on.”
    She halted. “Why?”
    He met her belligerent gaze, held it. When she simply glared back, unwavering, he quietly stated, “Because that’s the way it’s going to be.”
    He was adamant about that, and not at all averse to having the point broached thus early in their relationship. With any other woman, it wouldn’t need to be stated, but Amelia was a Cynster—wise to have the lines drawn, the chain of command established. And this was undoubtedly the moment;she couldn’t argue, not without risking what she’d already gained—his agreement to their wedding.
    Abruptly, nose elevating, she looked away. “Very well. Have it your way. Four weeks.” She stepped out, not waiting for him to take her arm. “But not a day more.”
    The stipulation reached him as she walked on; he didn’t immediately follow, instead grasped the moment to tamp down the impulse she had, all but deliberately, evoked. He couldn’t press her yet—not for a week or so. But once he had her tied up tight . . .
    She paused, ostensibly to study a case of knives; he watched her, noting the way the light glinted on her curls.
    Deception was not the best foundation on which to base a marriage, but he’d told no lies, and wouldn’t; he’d