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search for a wife, Spencer decided to call on the lawyer again. Perchance he’d misunderstood him on the first visit. Early-morning light slanted against the elderly man’s wig and outlined the offensive papers upon his desk.
    “No, my lord. The will is airtight. You must find a wife within three months’ time or your entailed property will pass to your cousin, Lord Dudley.”
    “He already has an earldom.” An earldom that was mismanaged, to say the least. “I will not lose Ashwhite to him. My father... I don’t know what he was thinking.” He ground his teeth. As always, his father had gone too far in meddling with his life. Even after death, the old man insisted on controlling things. “I will fight this.”
    “Perhaps you should marry and be done with it.” The lawyer adjusted his spectacles, reminding Spencer of Lady Amelia’s refusal last night to help him.
    He wondered what she might think of this clause in his father’s will. He focused on the lawyer. “When was this updated? Might it be said my father’s mental faculties were impaired when he wrote it?”
    “When did you last see your father, if I may ask such a thing?” The lawyer’s quizzical gaze burned Spencer.
    It had been too long. Guilt swept through Spencer and shook his resolve. He inclined his head, accepting the lawyer’s question with regret. “Four years.”
    “I see.” The lawyer cleared his throat. “Well, your father was in the pink of health when he had his accident. The horse had to be put down, and it was the infection that took your father. I was there that last day, and his faculties were fully functional. The will was made a year ago, though, and has not been altered since.”
    A year ago... Right about when Spencer had begun doubting his place in life. He’d had a particularly rough patch with gaming debts and irrational, clinging women. A brewing scandal had convinced him to take a little trip to the Americas...probably the best decision he’d ever made.
    He frowned, tapping his fingers against his trousers.
    “It looks as though I’m well and completely snookered,” he said. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. If I do not marry, what shall happen?”
    “You will have the entailed property from your mother, and you shall keep your title as Earl of Hartsacre. There is no money with that property except for what it makes. Your standing would be diminished.”
    Standing . Spencer grunted and pushed to his feet. He did not care a fig for social status, but he did love his home, and the thought of losing Ashwhite... He gripped the edges of his coat. It could not happen. He schooled his features and held out a hand. The lawyer stood and they shook.
    “You may send a copy of the banns when you’ve found a bride, but keep in mind you must be married in three months’ time, not engaged.”
    “I understand.” Spencer gave the lawyer a curt nod and let himself out.
    If he was to save his property, then he must marry. And to marry, he must find a suitable bride. For all his travels and his transformation that had taken place in the Americas, he felt himself at a crossroads.
    What would the God he’d chosen to follow in the Americas think of this choice to marry? Was marrying to keep his lands and fortune safe rather than for love acceptable? Falling in love was unlikely, but surely there must be something in the Bible about parameters for marrying. Talk to God. Confess to Him your needs.
    The American preacher’s voice, filled with conviction, filtered through his memory. Perhaps prayer was the answer. Outside the office and right on the street, he closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Let it sink deep in his chest before exhaling.
    Lord, the preacher said You know my desires and needs. Right now, more than anything, I’m in need of wisdom. And some help. Please show me the way, if You would?
    Spencer opened his eyes. He waited and didn’t feel any kind of answer, but he did have a strange contentment that