The Earl chuckled and his harsh features softened. “Here, my boy, read this.” He waved a much crumpled piece of paper in front of Sebastian who reached over and took it. He read the missive with growing astonishment. His finally arched eyebrows disappeared under his fashionably cropped hair. His voice dripped with disdain.

“Emily Gibson, my lord, is outrageous. To offer herself up for sale in this manner shows a lack of refinement and breeding I could not countenance in a wife of mine.”

“How dare you insult my granddaughter, Yardley. I will not have a word said against Emily.” The Earl glared at his great-grandson until the younger man flushed and looked away. Sebastian did not offer an apology. “It is my fault, you see; I blamed her mother for my wife's death. The child wrote to me two years ago begging for my assistance when her father died but I ignored her appeal.” The old man openly wiped his eyes. “I am head of the family; it is my job to take care of them. I have been very remiss not to have done so before. I want to be reconciled with my daughter, Althea, before I meet my maker.”

Sebastian snorted. “Well and good, sir. You can do that without involving me in your plans, can you not?”

“I am four and eighty, my boy, and however robust I appear, I can not have long left on this earth. You wish to find a wife, my granddaughter wishes to find a husband, what better arrangement could there be?”

“I could select a wife for myself.”

“When do you have the opportunity? You are not part of the fashionable set, you do not attend Almack's, or debutante balls, how are you going to meet someone more suitable, tell me that?”

Sebastian shook his head in frustration. He could feel himself being pushed into a corner. Then unexpectedly he smiled. “Very well, my lord. I will agree to meet this young woman, but if she is not to my liking, I reserve the right to refuse. Is that acceptable?”