Unless, of course, she was looking for more than one connection.

But surely every family had a black sheep. Surely most families had their secrets. It was not as likely, he feared, that they had both.

But none of that mattered anymore, he reminded himself. He had a prospective bride, contracted to him and agreed upon by her father, with a wedding date set. His character and situation were enough to convince the father of Harrison’s quality and suitability for his daughter.

He was ready to take the next step in his journey as Lord Basset, and that meant marriage. However little interest he had in it.

He had never considered himself the marrying type, when he thought about it. Considering the sort of marriage he witnessed between his parents in his youth, there was little attraction about that state of relationship. It was a business transaction, and even that was not a fair comparison. In business, both parties receive something they want. In marriage, both parties agree to something.

What is received, however, may not be what the other had in mind.

Harrison’s mother did not agree to be mortified and shamed by her husband’s behavior and manner. She did not agree to being so completely powerless that she was akin to a prisoner in her own home. She did not agree to having no say in how her children were raised, what kind of education they would receive, or where they would be sent.

She had been stripped of any identity in her marriage, though her dowry had certainly been put to excellent use on the estate. Her person had simply been the means for producing heirs, and nothing more. She had been the mistress of Trevadden, it was true, but without any power to act as such. The greatest attention she received only came when her husband was hosting an event at Trevadden. She would be gifted a new gown and have the family jewels hung about her neck, trussed up to appear the perfect baroness for their guests.

While she received no particular affection from her husband on those occasions, she was at least acknowledged as his wife and honored by the guests as such.

There were many things that Harrison knew his mother had not told him about how her life had been and to this day would still not mention, but he knew enough to ascertain that she had suffered.

Harrison’s wife would not suffer. That much he knew. He would never disrespect his wife, cut her out of the lives of her children, or strip her powerless. He was a better man than his father, a better baron, a better human being.

And he would damn well be a better husband.