They had been the best of friends since childhood. She knew that he secretly wore spectacles. He knew that she had once stolen all the wine for the Eucharist from the parish church and blamed it on the town drunkard. There was very little that Amy Griffiths did not know about Lord Oliver Hollingsworth, the only friend she had ever had growing up in a tiny village where everybody knew everything about anybody. She was quite happy to rush headlong into spinsterhood while she tended to her mother and worked the small bookshop, and Lord Hollingsworth did not seem inclined to wed anytime soon having ensured no mother in her right mind would allow her daughter to consort with the likes of him after the whole debacle with his once intended, Miss Augusta Fleetwood, a few seasons ago. When Amy is convinced to visit London, little did the both of them realise how meddling some of his friends would be, and how adept at matchmaking the troublesome lot are. Soon, the delicate line between friendship and true love become harder to distinguish. Bit of a slow burn, sweet romance with MATURE content and a lot of humour.