If she had said it, Aidan would think she was a weak-minded fool. How could she possibly declare her love so soon into their marriage? They had only interacted … Gwen counted out the number of times they had met.
If the moonlight bewitchment and the offer of marriage were two separate incidents, which seemed like a stretch, she had only met with him … two … three … four times, and then their wedding night would be the fifth.
Ye gods! He thinks I am a silly, bird-witted little girl!
Octavia knocked at the door, and Gwen called out for her to enter. Harried, she gestured at the wardrobe as she sponged herself clean at the washbasin. “I must find my husband!”
Her lady’s maid puckered her forehead in confusion but complied, pulling out a gown, clean shift, and stockings, andthen picking up Gwen’s stays from the floor without comment. Gwen blushed, averting her eyes while she finished washing up. What was there to say in such a situation?
She quickly drew on the stockings and pulled the shift over her head. Octavia assisted her with the stays, which took longer than expected because Gwen was panting with the anxiety to depart her room and ensure Aidan was not appalled with her unsolicited words.
Finally, they had her gown done up and Gwen stormed from the room without explanation for her haste and with her hair flying loose. Buttercup dropped down from the bed and chased after her, a pattering of paws announcing her company as Gwen raced down to find Aidan.
When she reached downstairs, Gwen searched through the rooms, finally finding Aidan at the breakfast table with a plate of eggs and ham. He had a distant expression on his face, and his eyes were focused on the garden outside the window, while his fork was paused midair as if he had forgotten what he was about.
“Aidan?”
He did not respond.
“Aidan?”
He started, his gaze swinging to find her.
“Good morning,” he said before dropping his fork to raise a cup of coffee to his lips.
Gwen bit her lip. He seemed … distant. “How are you this morning?”
It took several seconds for him to respond with a “Hmm?”
“How are you this morning?”
The bemused expression returned to his face. “Fine, fine. How are you?” Aidan smiled, but it did not reach his eyes and his thoughts were obviously occupied.
Gwen clenched her fists, her stomach rolling with anxiety. This was not good. She must have upset him by declaring her feelings. It was clear that things were not as they were the night before.
Panic set in. They had shared the perfect evening. Why did she have to ruin it with maudlin sentiment? Why could she not allow their new marriage to breathe and develop naturally?
She walked forward and took a seat by his side, determined to find a way to bridge thefaux pas. Buttercup followed her under the table and sat down upon Gwen’s feet. A footman brought the usual plate of cut fruit that she preferred, placing it on the table in front of her. Gwen stared at it, trying to think what to say. Should she bring up what she had said to apologize or simply pretend it had never happened?
“Shall we do something together today?”
Aidan took a moment to respond, as if his mind was elsewhere. “I am afraid that will not work today. I … have plans.”
Gwen used her fork to push a strawberry around her plate. He was so different from their night together. She had been the center of his world after he had arrived at her door, but now he was reserved. This was all so new to her, and she had no ideas on how to bring back the rapport of the night before.
“Oh.”
“I might not be here for dinner. I have some things to take care of today.”
Gwen was hit with a wave of desperation. Buttercup shifted about, as if sensing her agitation. Leaning over, she whispered to prevent the servant from overhearing. “Will you come to my room tonight?”
Please say yes. Please, please say yes.
“We shall see what time I return.”
Gwen’s heart fell. Soon Aidan rose to leave the breakfast room, leaving Gwen to consider her options. It was clear Aidan must be repulsed by her premature announcement of her feelings, but there must be a way to overcome the awkwardness she had created?
Buttercup whined from behind the tablecloth as if to commiserate with Gwen’s misery.
