The Proper Way To Stop A Wedding (In Seven Days Or Less)

“One would assume that.” Mrs. Blodgett studied Celia sitting across the table from them, talking in an animated manner to Mrs. Higginbotham. “My sister was Celia’s mother. Unfortunately, after her death, I was not able to see my niece as often as I would have liked.”

“I gather you regret that.”

A wry smile curved her lips. “You are remarkably perceptive, Henry.”

“Some things are obvious, Mrs. Blodgett.” He smiled, his gaze following hers. “At least to me.”

Try as he might, he could not keep his thoughts off Katherine’s youngest sister. Fair-haired and petite in stature, Celia wasn’t as stunning as Katherine, but simply quite lovely in a quiet sort of way. There was something about Celia Bromley that was almost irresistible. Henry couldn’t truly describe it and was afraid to try. From the moment he’d met her, quite by accident at one of his favorite booksellers’, the moment he’d looked into her blue eyes, something inside of him had clicked like the turn of a key in a lock, as if all the puzzle pieces of his life had abruptly snapped into place. He’d had the strangest sense of recognition somewhere deep in his soul, as if they’d been destined to meet or had met before or had known each other always. The French called it coup de foudre, a bolt of lightning. Love at first sight. It was absurd of course. Only the French would give credence to such a thing. Silly, spontaneous feelings that struck without warning were certainly not to be trusted, not by a rational, sensible man.

Regardless, he’d found himself returning to the bookseller’s more frequently than was his habit in hopes of meeting her again. It was hopeless, really—he didn’t even know her name. Henry put any thought of her out of his mind and managed to convince himself whatever he had experienced was due no doubt to the onset of a cold or something he’d eaten that had disagreed with him, or simply dwelling on the incident gave it more importance than it warranted. Then he met Katherine and his life changed irrevocably. It wasn’t until he’d already asked for her hand that he was introduced to her sisters and realized the awful, glaring truth. His brief encounter was his new fiancée’s younger half sister. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been so susceptible to Katherine’s charms because somewhere deep inside he was mourning the loss of something he’d never had.

Neither of them acknowledged their previous encounter, at least not aloud. What difference did it make anyway? It was too late. He was to marry her sister and no matter what feelings Celia Bromley might stir inside him, there could be nothing between them. Still, in spite of his best efforts, he couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering in her direction. Couldn’t stop the odd twisting of his heart when she was near. Couldn’t prevent thoughts of her that lingered in his mind and invaded his dreams. Without warning, Celia turned her head and her gaze met his. For a moment, it was as if all the air had rushed out of the room. As always, the look in her eyes was a reflection of his own—a mix of caution and longing and resignation. Not that either of them had ever admitted such a thing. Nor would they.

“Indeed, Henry, some things are more than obvious.”

His gaze snapped back to Mrs. Blodgett and at once he realized his mistake. A truly innocent man would not have taken her casual comment as an indictment. But Mrs. Blodgett simply smiled in an innocuous manner and promptly changed the subject. “Your brother says you are quite interested in antiquities and all things ancient.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Indeed I am.”

“My husband and some of his associates have been discussing an expedition to find the lost city of Troy.”

“Really?” Henry stared. “What an extraordinary adventure that would be.”

“Charles is a most adventurous sort and the more extraordinary the better.” She smiled in an affectionate manner.

“You must miss him when he’s away on his extraordinary adventures.”

“Indeed I do but someday I shall wear down his resistance and he shall take me with him.”

“But you’re a woman.”

“How clever of you to notice, Henry.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean—”

“No apology needed.” She waved off his comment. “Even in these modern times, the idea of a woman traveling anywhere not considered completely civilized is unthinkable. I do hope that will change one day but I am not overly optimistic. It is universally accepted that a woman’s place is to be safely left behind to tend to house and home.”

“And you disagree with that?” Caution edged his voice.

“Not entirely but even the most content among us can occasionally long for something a little more exciting. For now, I suppose we need to console ourselves with adventures of a less extraordinary nature.” She smiled. “Walking down the path of life hand in hand with the right person is something of an adventure in and of itself. When one’s heart is engaged—” she glanced down the table at Katherine “—it can be the most extraordinary adventure of all.”

“No doubt,” Henry said faintly.

It was bad enough to realize one wasn’t in love with the woman one was committed to marry, but to accept the awful growing conviction that one didn’t especially like her was much worse. But even that paled in the face of the horrible truth of the matter.

Henry Saunders had indeed found the love of his life and there was nothing he could do about it.

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