'Your grandmother, if you will pardon my saying so, must be all about in the head if she thinks a daughter of that house will be suitable for you.' Or deserving of you, Lucas thought bitterly. Will needed someone to love him, not a gold-digging nonentity who just happened to be sufficiently on the shelf to swallow the scandal in return for the title and the wealth.

'I am assured Miss Maylin is not at all like her stepmother. And she is apparently good with children. Louisa needs a mother.' Will might have been describing the appointment of a governess. There was no animation in his voice, no emotion.

Lucas felt the anger stirring inside him. This was the friend who had always seemed to be laughing, the man who had helped him out of scrapes more numerous than he could count. His best friend-the brother he had never had-who deserved someone to cherish him, someone to bring the laughter back. Someone to thaw his heart.

'And if she proves not to be what she is reported to be?' he asked harshly.

'Then I would not offer for her.' Will looked surprised he needed to ask. 'I cannot settle for anyone who would not be a suitable mother for Louisa.' He shook his head. 'But there is no fear of that: I trust my grandmother's opinion.'

'I'm going with you.' Damn it, all he can think about is whether his new wife will make a good mother to the child. What about himself? Wasn't he hurt enough last time?

'But you haven't been invited.' Then Will shrugged. 'No doubt it will be easy for you to secure an invitation. Even though you've been in the West Indies all this time no one will have forgotten you. And they will be unsurprised to see you again, now you have come into the title.'

'They'll have forgotten me sufficiently not to recognise me, I hope. At least so long as they see me where they would not expect to.' Lucas smiled, flexing his fingers. He imagined them curling around Miss Maylin's greedy little throat, but he kept his tone amused.