"I would like to talk to Miss Dorring, myself," Julian said.

"Thought I explained. Not in at the moment. Gone out riding. Visits Old Bess on Wednesdays."

"I am aware of that. She was informed that I would be calling at three, I assume."

Lord Dorring coughed again to clear his throat. "I, er, believe I mentioned it. Undoubtedly slipped her mind. You know how young women are." He glanced at the clock. "Should be back by half past four."

"Unfortunately, I cannot wait." Julian set down his glass and got to his feet. "You may inform your granddaughter that I am not a patient man. I had hoped to get this marriage business settled today."

"I believe she thinks it is settled, my lord," Lord Dorring said sadly.

"You may inform her that I do not consider the matter finished. I will call again tomorrow at the same time. I would greatly appreciate it, Dorring, if you would endeavor to remind her of the appointment. I intend to speak to her personally before this is all over."

"Certainly, by all means, Ravenwood, but I should warn you it ain't always easy to predict Sophy's comings and goings. As I said, she can be a bit willful at times."

"Then I expect you to exert a bit of willpower of your own. She's your granddaughter. If she needs the reins tightened, then, by all means, tighten them."

"Good God," Dorring muttered with great feeling. "Wish it were that easy."

Julian strode toward the door of the small, faded library and stepped out into the narrow, dark hall. The butler, dressed in a manner that blended perfectly with the air of shabby gentility that characterized the rest of the aging manor house, handed him his tall, flat-crowned beaver hat and gloves.

Julian nodded brusquely and brushed past the elderly retainer. The heels of his gleaming Hessians rang hollowly on the stone floor. He was already regretting the time it had taken to dress formally for the unproductive visit.