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an ever tightening vise around his chest and the undersized waistcoat emphasized the dire conditions. “Aren’t there any servants?”
    “Randolph has them on a rotating schedule. They come and go so as to not disturb the carryings on.” Jasper did not seem the least concerned about his friend awkwardly positioned on the floor in the next room. “What happened to your clothing? It looks like you went swimming in a mud puddle.”
    A vivid image flooded his mind and senses, an unbidden smile tweaked his mouth. “Are you sure we shouldn’t make Beaufort more comfortable?”
    “I asked him before he fell asleep, and no. He likes it down there. Finds it comforting.” Jasper dismissed the question with eloquent sangfroid.
    It was the same quality their deceased father possessed; the ability to take things at face value and not over-think the circumstances and consequences, to live life in the moment unfettered by concern. Valerian was cut from different cloth.
    “So what do you suppose about staying in town?”
    He could hear the underlying plea in Jasper’s voice and it played against his better judgment, but with the most logical rationalization, if Val were to find a way to achieve their
matchbreaking
business, London was a veritable bed of opportunity. Of course, he would need to keep a close watch on his brother’s waywardness, but that proposed nothing new. It could prove easier if they lived under the same roof.
    “It would make sense, both of us residing here, although you will be under my perspicacious surveillance. We are here to recover from poverty, not sink further into the bowels of destitution.” Valerian schooled his voice with an unmistakable didactic tone and swept a glance around the interior. “Given our lack of financial choices, Beaufort’s generous offer is a boon, although it goes against my integrity to hang on someone’s sleeve.”
    “Consider it a favor between friends.” Jasper poured two healthy portions of brandy and handed a glass forward. “So how did it go with Rigby?”
    “As well as could be expected, I suppose. I’m to start destroying Leonard’s hopes and dreams as early as tomorrow evening.”
    “So you’ve laced your endeavor with dismal intention. I expected that, although you’re the ideal person to execute this plan and the last man to act like a chocolate box over a pretty face. Why not consider the peaceful salvation your service will provide? I’ve heard Fiona is a regular church-bell. There could be no sanity shared when married to a gabster.” Jasper dropped into a nearby wingchair, entirely undisturbed by the implied ramifications of interrupting someone’s emotional goal, no matter his friend lay prone on the floor from unrequited love.
    “I’ve known Leonard Rigby since Eton and I’m not so sure the boot isn’t on the other leg.” Val took a long swallow of brandy in hope it would smooth the wrinkles of his discontent, then glanced at his own boots, caked with mud and water-stained. An image of the unsettled beauty he’d met earlier flittered through his mind with intense clarity and this time he allowed it to remain. Perhaps if he concentrated on her delicate features and lovely sable eyes he could escape the ever present absurdity of this situation. He scoffed at the fleeting proposition. “Nevertheless it matters little. At the end of this venture we’ll be that much richer and on our way, albeit in a small stride, to financial recovery. That is as long as you mend your ways. If cavorting is on your schedule, make damn sure Randolph is doing the spending.” He flicked his eyes to the front window. “Where is One-Eyed Jack? Does Beaufort rent stalls in the nearby mews? I left Arcadia tied to a post near the curb. The last thing I need is to have my horse stolen.” Arcadia was the one constant in his life and a dear friend. A dependable, strong animal who didn’t talk back, spend money, or tread on his emotions.
    “There is a stable around