“We will discuss this in detail and assess the objective and potential strategies,” Miles said, a grin spoiling his serious words. He was so beautiful he made even Mr. Lockheart appear plain. His golden curls, sleepy blue eyes, and patrician features made him resemble a playful god who’d come to frolic among mortals.

Winifred, or Freddie—a cool, winter blonde to Miles’s sunshine and warmth—shook her head. “This is not a military campaign, Miles. Serena is merely considering whether or not to accept a position.”

“A position with one of the richest men in Britain. More importantly: a bachelor in pursuit of a wife.”

“Serena is not marrying the man, she is considering a position as his landscape gardener.” Freddie gave the beautiful, but impoverished, lord a look of fond frustration as she chided him. The two behaved toward each other with the casual ease of a long-married couple. Not for the first time did Serena wonder if her two friends carried more in their hearts for each other than friendship. Not that she had ever seen any sign they were lovers.

Serena turned to Freddie, the more serious—and knowledgeable—of her two friends. “Come, Freddie, you know everything about everyone, what do you know about Lockheart?”

Freddie earned her living launching the daughters of wealthy industrialists into society, an activity she loathed, but was perfectly suited for. Her lineage went back to the Conqueror and she was related to every aristocratic house in Great Britain. She somehow managed to maintain a reputation as a paragon of society even though she had worked at a girl’s school and took money from cits.

“As Miles has already noted, he is very wealthy. Unlike other titans of industry he does not specialize in one area. Instead, it seems his talent lies with numbers rather than machinery or manufactories.”

Serena recalled the book of equations and symbols and could well believe this was true.

“I have not met him, or seen him in society, but he is said to be comely of person and remarkably well-spoken, nothing at all like the general run of men who have fought their way up from places like St. Giles.”

“Yes, he speaks with no regional accent or particular inflection.”

Miles grinned. “And is he comely of person?”

Serena pursed her lips and gave him a severe frown, the one she usually kept for badly behaved students. But her hot, red cheeks worked to undermine her.

Miles slapped his thigh and hooted in a most un-lordly manner.

Freddie huffed with disgust. “Really, Miles.”

“What? You are a matchmaker, Fred, surely you can agree a marriage of convenience need not exclude the possibility of attraction or love?”

Freddie’s full lips thinned into a pale pink line. “You know how much I dislike that vulgar word, Miles.”

“Love?”

Serena laughed at Freddie’s withering stare. “Come, you two, play nice. At least until I decide what I should do.”

Miles shrugged and stretched his long, muscular legs before him. Faded pantaloons and scuffed Hessians did not diminish the beauty of his perfect person in any way. “I suppose I don’t think there is really much to discuss. An attractive wealthy man has offered you an opportunity you admittedly wish for, and probably for pay you can hardly imagine. What is there to consider?”