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And why would he?

The thought scampered through Gwen’s mind in a most irritating manner. There was no reason for him to lower his voice. He had not said anything untoward. Their conversation was perfectly acceptable, perfectly reasonable for a daughter of the house and a guest of said house. It would not have been a disaster if her parents had overheard him speak. Not at all.

Except she wanted him all to herself and never to share him with anyone and if he went to the Duchess of Axwick’s picnic and met one of her daughters—

Gwen cleared her throat, hoping it would similarly dislodge the frenetic thoughts scattering about her mind. “My mother and I were just doing a little wedding planning, that was all.”

Ernest raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the large dining table. “A little wedding planning?”

She followed his look and had to smile as she took in the chaos that had inexplicably descended.

Somehow, and she was not quite sure how, she and her mother had managed to spread out across the entirety of the dining table, which normally seated twelve. There were lists of guests who had to be invited, lists of guests who should probably be invited, and lists of guests whom they didn’t really wish to invite but would end up having to. There were menu options suggested by Mrs. Kinley covered with her mother’s handwritten notes, and four vases of flowers, which her mother had explained would need to be considered for her bouquet, and boutonnieres, and decorations for the church and for their home.

And there was more. The lace, Gwen was only just remembering, was samples for her veil, and there were two pairs of shoes, and a note from the modiste about precisely when she would need to know Gwen’s choice of fabric for her wedding gown, and Teddy had brought back three swatches of fabric she would accept for her bridesmaid’s gown, and there was a note from Sir James accepting the role of best man—

Goodness. Gwen had hardly noticed, but the wedding was starting to consume the entire table.

But not her life.

And that was a good sign, wasn’t it? That was what Gwen was attempting to tell herself as she swallowed hard and tried not to take in the delicious, heady scent of the gentleman seated before her.

A bride should not have been thinking so much of her wedding day, she told herself, but the marriage itself.

The fact that she had shared perhaps two sentences with Lord Ravenshurst about their married life was neither here nor there.

“And when will I see Ravenscroft Manor?”

“Soon. After the wedding, I suppose.”

Yes, Gwen tried to tell herself in as convincing an air as possible. Yes, she had the right balance. It was her mother who was obsessed with her wedding, not herself. She had her priorities perfectly correct.

She glanced at Ernest—at Lord Frasemere. He had said absolutely nothing during the five or so minutes she had taken to sort all that out in her mind, and for some reason, Gwen was unreasonably irritated with it.

“What?” she said sharply.

Ernest raised an eyebrow. “What, indeed.”

“You were judging me,” she accused softly as her parents discussed the importance of thick card for wedding invitations on the other side of the dining room.

The man beside her shrugged. “Do you not think it all a bit…excessive?”

Defense of her mother rose him instantly as Gwen snapped, “No!”

“Not at all? I mean…” Ernest leaned forward and picked up one of Mrs. Kinley’s suggested menus for the wedding breakfast. “Your guests are going to eat other meals this day, and I can’t imagine any of them will arrive starving. Does it really matter what they eat after your wedding?”

No, Gwen wanted to say. No, none of this matters. It’s all ridiculous! “It’s my wedding,” she said instead hotly, her temper forcing her to say ridiculous things.

As it always did.

Ernest’s raised eyebrow was joined by its brother. “I see.”

But he didn’t see. No one did, Gwen was sure of it. It was infuriating to know the man was so…so…

There wasn’t even a word for it!

“What do you think about it all, then?” she asked, more than a touch rudely—but carefully keeping her voice low so her parents did not notice she was bickering with their houseguest.

Ernest looked uncertain, his head cocked sideways. “About what?”