“Very good of you, Basset. Very good.” Tunbridge glanced out of the window, nodding. “Ah, here we are, here we are.”

The carriage rolled to a stop, and Harrison exhaled a sudden wash of nerves in his chest. It was all well and good to discuss marriage, to arrange the details, and sign the contracts, but now he would be meeting the woman to whom he would be bound before God and man. The woman who would bear his children and stand by his side for the rest of his life.

Devil take it, what had he done? What was he doing?

This could have been the worst decision of his life, and he could regret it every day from the marriage onward. He could back out. He could tell Tunbridge that he wasn’t interested, and the contract was null and void. He wouldn’t have to go through with this.

Until the marriage was officially performed and consummated, he could change his mind.

His rational side came to the rescue as he disembarked and made his way to the house beside Tunbridge. He needed to marry, needed an heir, needed to have a woman stand as Lady Basset beside him. That was not an optional requirement for him in his life. He had examined the details of this family to which he would bind himself, had learned all he could about the woman he had chosen, and had deemed the situation satisfactory enough to proceed.

He didn’t have to love the woman. He just needed to find her acceptable. That was all.

They were let into the house swiftly, the butler practically ignoring Harrison in favor of seeing to his master’s needs.

“Never mind, Taylor,” Tunbridge blustered, waving the butler away. “Lord Basset and I only need to see Lady Tunbridge and Miss Adelaide.”

“They are in the Blue Room, sir,” Taylor recited with a pristine tone of formality. “Along with your niece, Miss Lumley-Jones.”

Tunbridge tutted softly, some sound with unidentifiable emotion behind it, and nodded, continuing up the stairs of the fine London house.

No explanation was given to Harrison, nor any warnings. Also not encouraging.

They reached the first-floor landing and turned to the right, passing one door and then another before stopping.

Harrison watched as Tunbridge exhaled a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.

What in the world was this?

Tunbridge said nothing and opened the door to the room, striding in. Harrison had no choice but to follow.

An older woman in fine silks sat primly on a couch alone, pouring herself some tea, a small smile on her lips. Lady Tunbridge, he would presume.

His eyes moved to the two young ladies opposite her on another couch, and his stomach clenched.