"A palace whose roof leaks," Justin said dryly. "Even as we speak, dozens of buckets in the attic are filling with water."

"In that case, the sooner you marry, the better." solicitor cleared his throat with a new intonation. "In fa Mrs. Russell hinted to me this morning that if you interested in contracting an alliance with her, she Ą look with favor on your suit."

"Marry my brother's fiancee?" Justin said incredulously. He thought of how May had looked earlier at Gavin’s funeral, weeping copiously, her beautiful face obscured by her black mourning veil. Perhaps if he had looked more closely, he would have seen a speculative gleam in her eyes. "It's hard to believe that even she would go to such lengths to become a duchess."

"The lady implied that she has a certain fondness for you as well," Burrell said piously.

"The lady has a deficient memory," Justin retorted. It was May Russell who had first called him the Gargoyle. She had been demonstrating her wittiness. Even Gavin had laughed.

"She has a very large fortune under her own control," the solicitor said with regret. "But I suppose you're right it would be unseemly for you to marry your brother's betrothed. Do you have another suitable female in mind?"

"No. For the last several years, I've been too busy look for a wife." Justin returned to his position by the window and stared blindly across the grounds. Burrell was right-marriage was the only plausible answer. Justin wouldn't be the first, and certainly not the last, to marry for money.

Even as a younger son, Justin would have had no trouble finding a wife, for he was an Aubrey, had no appalling vices and he had inherited an adequate private income. Yet though Gavin's entertaining had brought a steady stream of polished, fashionable females through Swindon, there had never been one whom Justin had wanted for a wife.