By the terms of her grandfather’s will, Eleanor Locke could inherit his enormous fortune only if she married “a man of property” in England. Unless she did so, none of the money could be used in aid of the beloved but declining hacienda in Mexico where she had grown up happily unaware of an embittered old man thousands of miles away laying spiteful traps in her future. And further, Eleanor would have to marry within a few short weeks to meet the terms of the will before the estate was declared settled.

How could an overly tall, red-haired young woman who considered herself plain, snare a husband, particularly a gentleman of property, in a hurry?

The answer was money—her money. For that is what drove her into the most unlikely arms in all England, and it was money that propelled her into her position as mistress of a bleak and crumbling castle facing the English Channel.

And it was money that tied her forever to a man she thought she detested above all others, a man whose first wife had died in mysterious circumstances, a man she knew to be a cruel and unprincipled rake and whom she suspected of being a Napoleonic spy as well.