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the act of dishing up kidneys and bacon from the warming dishes that had been sent up by the hotel kitchens and gave his master an inquiring look.
    He nodded in reply, and Chalmers left the sitting room for the vestibule. Moments later, the valet was ushering in a small, elderly man who carried a black leather dispatch case and whose shriveled pippin face was quite familiar to Nicholas. “That didn’t take long,” he murmured under his breath as he laid aside his napkin and stood up. “Mr. Freebody,” he greeted in a louder voice. “How good of you to look me up.”
    “My lord.” The older man glanced at the table. “Forgive me for disturbing your breakfast.”
    “Not at all. As a matter of fact, I’ve been expecting you.”
    “Have you?” The dry, precise little man who’d been in charge of legal affairs for the present Duke of Landsdowne for nearly half a century actually seemed surprised.
    “Yes, indeed. I didn’t know when you’d seek me out, of course, but it was bound to be soon after my arrival. Father’s letter was intended to bring me scurrying home, wasn’t it? So, here I am. You may tell him I arrived as anticipated.” He gestured to the chair across the table. “Please sit down. Would you care for coffee? Or I can have Chalmers fetch you some tea?”
    “No, no, thank you, my lord.” He took the offered chair, placing his leather dispatch case beside it. “At His Grace’s request, I am here to further discuss that letter.”
    “Of course you are.” He resumed eating his breakfast. “You know, sometimes I wish Father would be less predictable. My dealings with him might be more interesting that way.”
    There was a rather awkward pause. Nicholas waited another ten seconds before he stopped eating and looked up. “Well?” he prompted. “You did come here to inform me of the terms under which my inheritance would be reinstated, did you not?”
    Mr. Freebody smiled his dry little smile. “We don’t need to launch straight into legal matters, my lord. Do finish your breakfast. Do you plan to be in town long?”
    He had no intention of giving anything away, and he kept his voice deliberately noncommittal. “I don’t really know. Beyond enjoying the delights of the season, I don’t have any fixed plans.”
    “But surely you shall at least visit Honeywood while you are here?”
    “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Why do you ask?” He flashed the other man a grin. “Is Father afraid I might burn the place down for the insurance money?”
    Freebody looked at him in some alarm, as if he were serious, and he reminded himself that lawyers had no sense of humor. They were rather like matchmakers in that respect.
    With that thought, an image of Lady Featherstone’s eyes came into his mind—beautiful blue eyes tinged with the icy frost of disdain. Glaciers were warmer than that woman; no, he revised at once, even glaciers could melt if the proper heat were applied. As to Lady Featherstone, he doubted thawing was possible. On the other hand, she did have those full pink lips and that luscious figure. A determined man could perhaps—
    A slight cough drew his attention. Nicholas set aside contemplation of the various ways one might apply heat to Lady Featherstone and returned his attention to his visitor. He set down his knife and fork. “Let’s cut to the heart of things, Freebody. You’ve known me all of my life, and there’s no need to dance around, making polite conversation. Landsdowne is holding my inheritance over my head in order to force me to marry whatever woman he deems most appropriate for alliance with the great and oh-so-noble Landsdowne family. Do I have it right?”
    The lawyer gave him an apologetic look. “Force is a rather harsh assessment.”
    “Landsdowne’s a harsh man, or hadn’t you noticed?”
    “I’m sure His Grace’s sincerest wish is for your marriage to bring you happiness.”
    Nicholas gave a laugh. “My dear man, spare us both the pretense that