Other matters being a polite euphemism for finding himself helplessly ensnared in the coils of a beautiful witch named Elizabeth, Julian reflected. "If your granddaughter is such a paragon of all the sensible virtues, Dorring, what seems to be the problem with convincing her to accept my offer?"

"My fault entirely, her grandmother assures me." Lord Dorring's bushy brows drew together in an unhappy frown. "I fear I've allowed her to read a great deal. And all the wrong sort of thing, I'm told. But one doesn't tell Sophy what to read, you know. Can't imagine how any man could accomplish that. More claret, Ravenwood?"

"Thank you. I believe I could use another glass." Julian eyed his red-faced host and forced himself to speak calmly. "I confess I do not quite understand, Dorring. What have Sophy's reading habits got to do with anything?"

"Fear I haven't always kept a close watch on what she was reading," Lord Dorring muttered, gulping his claret. "Young women pick up notions, you know, if you don't keep a watch on what they read. But after the death of her sister three years ago, I didn't want to press Sophy too hard. Her grandmother and I are quite fond of her. She really is a reasonable girl. Can't think what's gotten into her head to refuse you. I'm sure she would change her mind if she just had a little more time."

"Time?" Ravenwood's brows rose with ill-concealed sarcasm.

"You must admit you've rushed things a trifle. Even my wife says that. We tend to go about this sort of thing more slowly out here in the country. Not used to town ways, you know. And women, even sensible women, have these damn romantic notions about how a man ought to go on." Lord Dorring eyed his guest with a hopeful air. "Perhaps if you could allow her a few more days to consider your offer?"