With parents who doted on her, an abigail who would have breathed for her mistress if by doing so she might save the young lady some effort, and a coachman who prided himself on avoiding every bump and crack in the streets that his mistress might not be jolted unnecessarily, he did not believe he need worry. If she did venture out, she would be wrapped in furs and her safety put above all other considerations.

When he finally returned, they would at last make a formal announcement of their betrothal. No sooner than her eighteenth birthday, her papa, the Marquess of Hadley, had said. And she would be eighteen in three days' time. It had seemed a long wait. He had known almost as soon as he met her during the previous Season that he wanted her as his wife, but she had been very young. Merrick had never understood why her father had allowed her to make her come-out if he considered her not old enough to be betrothed. After all, bringing out a daughter was synonymous with announcing to the ton that one was seeking a husband for her. However, he had to feel thankful that his courtship had proceeded as smoothly as it had. Lorraine had liked him from the start, as had her mother. And Hadley had made no objection to the match beyond the short delay. He had allowed Merrick to visit his daughter and to be her frequent escort.

Merrick still found it hard to believe that he was actually welcoming the thought of marriage. It had been the last thing on his mind even a year ago. He was young-a mere seven-and-twenty even now-and wealthy and attractive, he knew. He had borne his title from infancy, when his parents had died, and was heir to a dukedom and another fortune. Ever since coming down from university, he had been bent on enjoying life to the full-traveling, socializing, participating in all strenuous sports, womanizing.