Oz brushed his chest off, as though he expected the letter to have left a stain on his jacket. He dropped the crust of his toast back on the tea tray and shook his head. "You don't want any of my friends for a husband," he pointed out. He was perhaps being slightly uncharitable — surely some of them were fine fellows, or had the potential to be once they'd cast their bachelor ways aside — but in general he didn't think anyone would take issue with the sentiment. He himself had been a rather infamous rake before marrying, and — well, whatever people thought of him now, they certainly didn't think he was a model husband.

"And I'm not going to go meet people to find a brother-in-law," he continued with a shrug. "Finding someone to spend your life with was supposed to be your job. It's hardly my fault I've done a better job of it in an afternoon than you've done in half a dozen years."

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