The Proper Way To Stop A Wedding. Victoria Alexander

my dear child, is that Henry Saunders gives every appearance of a man in love.”

      “Not surprising.” Celia’s stomach lurched. “He is, after all, to be married in a week.”

      “Celia dear—” Aunt Guinevere paused to gather her thoughts “—I have been married for more than twenty-three years and in love for longer than that. I have learned to recognize that feeling in other people. It’s really not hard if one pays attention. But few people do. Especially not in this house. Except perhaps for the earl.”

      “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Celia lied.

      “I’m talking about the way Henry looks at you and the way you look at him.”

      “Oh, well, that’s really not...”

      “Even Poppy and Effie noticed. We discussed it right before I came to speak to you.”

      Celia started to deny it but her aunt would never believe her. “It scarcely matters.” She drew a deep breath. “Regardless of how I feel about him, of how he might feel about me...it’s pointless. Surely you see that?”

      “What I see is a man about to plunge into a lifetime with a woman I suspect he doesn’t even like.” Her brows drew together. “Has Katherine always been this—Oh, I don’t know what the word is. So many come to mind.”

      Celia bit back a smile. “I’m afraid so.”

      “And does she usually look at you as if there was something quite vile about you?”

      Celia laughed. “It’s not that bad.”

      Aunt Guinevere stared as if she’d just realized—or perhaps accepted—something quite awful. “I have done you a terrible disservice.” She shook her head. “I should have rescued you from that household years ago. Between those dreadful half sisters of yours and the frightful Miss Quince—can you ever forgive me?”

      “There’s nothing to forgive.” Celia shrugged. “I was away at school most of the time. I’ve only resided at the abbey since I graduated. And Father isn’t so bad. Although it’s not especially gratifying to realize your father is not the cleverest man in the world.”

      Aunt Guinevere choked back a laugh.

      “Neither Katherine nor Louise has ever liked me, which bothered me a great deal when I was young but I had Mother then.” Celia paused. It had been seven years since her mother had died but there were moments when the grief was as fresh as if it had been yesterday. “After she died, I realized it was silly to continue to try to earn their affection, and besides, I didn’t like them, either. Aunt Frances, on the other hand, was never of any concern as she has always disliked everyone equally.” Celia grinned. “Except Father of course.”