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Landsdowne has ever cared about my happiness. He wants an heir, another pawn, another asset to put to use in the accumulation of his empire. That’s all.”
    The lawyer ignored this summation of his employer’s motives. “As you have already surmised, His Grace is prepared to reinstate your income from your mother’s trust when you marry, if certain conditions are met. I am here to inform you of precisely what those conditions are and what else he is prepared to offer should you accept.”
    Nicholas raised a brow at that. “Sweetening the pot, is he?”
    “He will give you a quarterly allowance—”
    “No,” Nicholas said, cutting off that dangling carrot at once.
    “My lord, I realize you have not accepted an allowance from your father since you came into your own money, but you are entitled to his support, not only for yourself, but for your wife and children. He is willing to reinstate your allowance at double the previous amount, and by another ten percent with the birth of each of your children.”
    The duke was as miserly as he was ruthless, the main reason he still had so much money when peers all over England were going broke. For him to offer such a staggering sum, and without any haggling, was quite uncharacteristic of him, and Nicholas could only wonder what other shoe was about to drop. He didn’t have to wonder for long.
    “Your bride will one day be the Duchess of Landsdowne,” Freebody went on, “and that is a position of great responsibility. To fulfill it, the woman you marry must be of the appropriate class.”
    Nicholas ignored the old bitterness that stirred inside him and leaned back, forcing a laugh. “There’s a pretty little French dairymaid in Paris who brings the milk each morning. Perhaps I should send for her and take her up to Gretna Green. The old man might die of apoplexy, and all my problems would be solved.”
    These callous words made no dent in Freebody’s unflappable, lawyerly reserve. “No elopements to Gretna Green, no dairymaids—French or otherwise—no shopgirls, no housemaids.” There was a pause as the lawyer met his gaze across the desk. “No actresses.”
    So that was it. His grin widened. “Tempting as it might be to marry my most recent mistress and put the duke’s knickers in a twist, Mignonette is a hardheaded Parisienne who’s got far too much sense to take on marriage to me. And I do believe the little French maid’s heart is already spoken for. So you may reassure my father that neither of them shall be the future Duchess of Landsdowne.”
    “She must be an Englishwoman of noble family, Church of England, with her father’s rank no lower than that of earl. She must also have a sizable dowry.”
    He did not point out he was already in search of a woman who met none of those criteria except that last one. But he couldn’t help being curious. “Landsdowne’s rich as Croesus already. Why should he care if my wife brings a dowry into the family or not?”
    The little lawyer drew himself up. “My dear Lord Trubridge, you cannot marry a girl with no dowry,” he said, as if appalled by the very idea. “She could be a gold digger.”
    “Ah.” Enlightened, he grinned. “Yes, I suppose that would make her too much like the last girl, wouldn’t it?”
    Freebody ignored the reference to Kathleen. “Your future bride must also have impeccable connections and an unsullied reputation.”
    Given this list of requirements, his father might just as well expect him to marry a mermaid. “I see. And does the duke have any idea where I might find such a woman as you describe? The aristocratic English heiress with a large dowry is a creature of a bygone era, I fear. Most men of our ranks are poor as church mice these days and in no position to provide their daughters with generous dowries.”
    “His Grace does have someone in mind.”
    “And who is this paragon of womanly virtue?”
    “Lady Harriet Dalrymple.”
    “My God,” Nicholas muttered, staring at