He might not be able to promise his wife love or affection or happiness, but he sure as hell could promise her a lack of suffering. He could promise her respect and honor. He could promise her freedom, strange as it may seem.

But so long as his wife did not create a scandal and lived with respect for the title and position, Harrison was perfectly pleased to let her do as she liked.

Within reason, of course. He’d prefer that she not take up affairs, obviously, but he was willing to negotiate matters if certain situations arose.

“You seem rather pensive, Lord Basset. You’re not having second thoughts?” The man beside him laughed jovially, as though the very idea were ludicrous.

Strange comment from his prospective father-in-law, but until the marriage was official, Harrison supposed he would endure oddities such as this.

He shook his head firmly, forcing a smile. “Of course not, my lord. I am quite set on my course.”

Lord Tunbridge patted Harrison’s arm awkwardly as the carriage rocked side to side on the turn in the road. “I am certain of that, Basset. Quite certain. Only joking.”

“Has Miss Dyer been apprised of the situation?” Harrison asked the man, eager to move past the topic of his thoughts.

“Situation?” Tunbridge repeated, finding something amusing in the choice of word. “Your engagement, you mean?”

That particular choice of word made Harrison more uncomfortable than the carriage ride itself could ever have been. Arrangement would have suited better, or contract would have sufficed.

Engagement sounded far too personal for what this was and how it came about.

Surely he needed to meet his intended before any of this could be considered an engagement. But he couldn’t tell his prospective father-in-law that he was making Harrison’s upcoming marriage with his daughter too personal. It might cloud his approval of the match.

Harrison nodded once. “Yes, is she aware of it?”

“She is,” Tunbridge assured him. “Her mother and I informed her after we finalized the details yesterday. She knows that we are signing contracts today. I imagine she will be expecting us.”

That was not encouraging in the least. He had heard a great deal about Adelaide Dyer, but he could not say if he had seen her at any of the events he had attended in London. Quite simply, he hadn’t been paying attention, nor had the events or the ladies in attendance held any interest for him. He could have passed her on the street and never known it.

Now he was going to marry her.

Was it better to marry a stranger, or marry a longtime acquaintance?

His friend Thomas Granger had married a woman he loved, yet it had taken the man five years to inform her of his feelings. Were those five years of anguish worth the resolution thereafter?