Lily smiled broadly. “I knew it! The day of the wedding it was patently obvious to us all, but you told us it was a matter of honor and doing the right thing and so forth. But I told Brendan you had the expression of a man in love. I was watching you closely, and you flinched ever so slightly when Gwen hesitated during her vows.”
Aidan looked about to find that all eyes were on him, and he felt heat rising—to bare his soul in front of so many people. Men! His mother! They were all watching with great interest, including Gwen’s father.
“I do love her. It will be difficult to convince her, which is why I asked for everyone’s help.”
Lily bounced on her toes, reaching out to grab him by his forearm. “This is so exciting. So what do you think? Do you see what it looks like?”
She held the lantern up as far as she could reach, which was not very high, but as Aidan contemplated it, and he cocked his head back and forth, a glimmer of a plan took root as he comprehended Lily’s exuberance about the paper lantern.
Swinging his gaze around the room, he found that everyone was as focused as he. The wives were watching closely, almost breathless, as they waited for his response. His cousin, Sophia, was biting her lower lip while the earl had his arm about her. The duchess, Annabel as Lily had referred to her, nibbled on a fingernail as if agitated, with the duke towering behind her who, too, watched the twirling lantern with a small smile. His mother stood farther back with Lord Moreland at her side, dabbing at her lashes with a handkerchief as if overcome. And Filminster and Smythe looked on from the door, Smythe’s customary grin wide as his gaze followed the motion of the lantern swaying in Lily’s outstretched hand.
Aidan straightened up and grinned. “It is absolutely perfect.”
Gwen’s stomach growled,and she clapped a hand over her offending organ with a hint of aggravation. “Why is it taking so long for the maid to bring my dinner tray? It is late into the evening already!”
Octavia shrugged. She was pulling out Gwen’s things for bed and turning the coverlet and sheets down.
“I ate hours ago.”
“That is hardly helpful.”
The lady’s maid lifted a hand to smother a laugh. “It was to me.”
Gwen pulled a face. If her dinner tray did not arrive soon,she would be forced to leave her room, and she was not ready to bump into her deceitful husband. Not yet. Skipping a meal under the circumstances was illogical because she would just wake up in a worse mood than she was in now.
She still had no notion what to say or do when she finally encountered him, and every time she thought about it, her heart fractured and her eyes burned with unshed tears. So she refused to think about the altercation in her father’s study.
Nay, Octavia’s suggestion to get a good night’s sleep and contend with this benighted situation in the morning was sound. Yet … eating still needed to happen.
Gwen considered going down the back stairs to reach the kitchen directly. Perhaps she could make a sandwich. She had long since emptied the teapot of its contents. Surely she would not run into Aidan if she detoured around the back of the house.
Somehow, her feet would not obey. She was not ready to encounter anyone or talk. Octavia and Buttercup were the only company she could tolerate until she had time to sift through her thoughts and decide how she wanted to proceed.
Thump, thump.
Gwen gave out a loud squeal at the knock on the door. She had been so focused on her thoughts, she had not heard the approaching footsteps.
She threw a glance at Octavia, who shrugged. Gwen did not wish to speak with Aidan, if it was him. Octavia gestured at the door, offering to open it, but Gwen shook her head furtively.
“Gwendolyn?”
She exhaled heavily in relief before crossing to the door to open it.
Her father was grinning, his pearly teeth flashing in thedim hall when she came face to face with him through the doorway. Papa was in good spirits, which was rather surprising considering the last she had seen of him a few hours earlier.
“Papa?”
“It is time to come downstairs, Gwendolyn.”
Gwen shook her head. “I do not wish to see … him.”
Papa pursed his lips. “I would like to discuss what happened, and I promise it will only be you and I. Aidan … is elsewhere.”
“I am not ready,” Gwen replied, her voice low and distressed.
Her father relaxed his smile, quirking his head in sympathy. “Time and tide wait for no man.”
“It is not yet noon. I will face him tomorrow.”
