‘I know you settled it, but when did you last actually pay it?’

‘Don’t split hairs. I pay for my cottage and my drink, not in cash, but in the pleasure of my company.’

Sarah Ashton made a noise that was perilously close to a snort. ‘I’d like to see Jarvis pay his bills with the pleasure of your company-such as it is,’ she remarked acidly.

‘Leave him alone, Sarah,’ Jarvis advised amiably. ‘You know he’s incorrigible.’

‘He wouldn’t be if you didn’t encourage him.’

‘Yes, I would,’ Ferdy said at once. ‘I was born incorrigible.’ He went to the drinks cabinet, considered its sparse contents, and returned to his seat empty-handed. On his way he caught his heel in the shabby carpet and almost fell into the chair. He grasped the arms to steady himself, and heard a dismal wrenching sound as the threadbare material tore. ‘I’ve made a hole in your chair,’ he announced with an air of discovery.

Jarvis shrugged. ‘I doubt I’ll notice it among the others.’

‘You know what you could do with, Jarvis lad?’

‘A new chair, probably.’

‘A rich wife.’

Jarvis’s grin returned. ‘To be sure, they’re going begging, aren’t they?’

‘As a matter of fact they are.’ Ferdy picked up the newspaper which he’d been reading a moment earlier. ‘See here,’ he said, jabbing with his finger at an advertisement.

Jarvis took the paper and read, “‘Wanted-one fortune-hunter to marry heiress: Millionairess seeks nominal husband in order to gain control of her own fortune. Generous terms to the right man”.’

He tossed the paper back to Ferdy. ‘Someone’s idea of a practical joke,’ he growled. ‘Either that or a journalist. If you think I’m going to offer myself up to ridicule you’ve taken leave of your senses.’

‘But suppose it’s for real? Why pass up the chance?’