The Matchmaker's Choice: "Even a matchmaker's heart is not immune when Cupid's arrows strike…"

THE MATCHMAKER'S CHOICE "Even a matchmaker's heart is not immune when Cupid's arrows strike…" LISA CAMPELL CONTENTS Thank you The Matchmaker's Playbook About the book Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue Extended Epilogue Afterword The Matchmaker's Playbook Do you want more Romance? The Duke’s Reckoning Never miss a thing Thank you About the Author THANK YOU I want to personally thank you for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me. It’s a blessing to have the opportunity to share with you my passion for writing, through my stories. As a FREE GIFT, I am giving you a link to my first novel. It has more than 40 reviews, with an average rating of 5 out of 5. It is called “The Earl's Sinful Quest”, and you can get it for FREE. Please note that this story is only available for YOU as a subscriber and hasn't been published anywhere else. Please click on the cover to download the book. THE MATCHMAKER'S PLAYBOOK Book#1 (this book) The Matchmaker's Choice * * * ABOUT THE BOOK When a matchmaker's heart is caught in the game, love may be the ultimate sacrifice. Susan Seymour's heart was shattered when her fiancé left her at the altar. Vowing to never again be vulnerable to the treachery of love, she immersed herself in the family matchmaking business, deftly orchestrating the alliances of society's elite. But when a timid wallflower and her desperate mother seek her aid in securing a respectable husband, Susan sees a chance to prove her worth and finally match the elusive Benjamin Forbes. Benjamin Forbes cuts a dashing figure, his reputation as a notorious womanizer preceding him. He believes himself untouchable, immune to the pangs of true love, and convinced that marriage is nothing but a gilded cage. But his parents, tired of his roguish ways, press upon him the need to take a wife. Little does he know, the woman who holds the key to his heart is none other than Susan, who refuses to be swayed by his charm. As she guides them towards their happily-ever-after, Susan begins to realize that the greatest match of all may be the one she never saw coming; she finds herself falling for her client, thus risking her business and reputation. But when a deep and dark scandal emerges, threatening to tear them apart, will their love be strong enough to withstand the storm or will it be consumed by the secrets they've been keeping? Will Susan succumb to the pull of her own heart or sacrifice love for the sake of a promise made in the ashes of betrayal? "Even a matchmaker's heart is not immune when Cupid's arrows strike…" * * * PROLOGUE Bath, March 1812 “Oh my days, how well you look!” Louisa Seymour exclaimed, fluttering her fan at her very red and rather blotchy neck. It wasn’t usually that blotchy, and she wasn’t usually this emotional but, see, it was the morning of her daughter’s wedding, and the day called for a glass of champagne rather than tea. “Mama, you have seen me in this gown before. You were there at the modiste for the fitting, remember?” Susan said, trying to keep from laughing. It was a funny sight; her mother lounging on the chaise with little regard for her modesty, all poppy-red from excitement and an excess of bubbly. “Yes, but it’s different now! The day has finally come! I remember you were there, up on the stool with that lovely gown on, so flattering to your figure, whilst that poor Cassandra Newbury was next to you looking like a great cow. Oh, dear, there’s a girl that’s hard to match. Poor thing. Several stone heavier than she ought to be and such a freckled complexion! If her father were not a baron, she’d have no chance.” “Mama, that was quite rude of you,” Susan said firmly, cutting off her mother before she went on another tirade about matchmaking and other ladies’ looks. “Should you like to tie the sash?” Susan smiled gratefully at the maid who had helped her dress. The woman had tightened the stays too much, and they now pinched at her skin, but that was the way of it. It was her wedding, and she was to look her best, comfort be damned. Come to think of it, everything was uncomfortable. Her shoes were just a hint too small and pinched her toes, and the pins keeping her dark curls intact poked too sharply into her scalp whenever she turned her head. Her father had arranged for a portrait sitting after the reception, so her mother had instructed the maid to make sure neither her hair nor her flesh moved so much as an inch. This is a culmination of everything you have waited and trained for your whole life, her mother had said the night before whilst watching the maid tie rags in her hair to curl it overnight. Susan had complained that they were wound too tight and her hair would fall out, but her mother’s nerves were quite fraying at the seams. Logic simply would not work at the moment, so Susan knew she’d have to bear it or subtly steer her in a different direction. The maid handed the light green sash to Louisa, whose eyes softened. To match your eyes, she’d said at the modiste. The perfect finishing touch to the ivory and lace gown that so flattered her figure now. Susan held her arms up to let her mother tie the sash and fashion it into a delicate bow at the back. “How lovely you look,” she gushed. Susan regarded herself in the large standup mirror.