She glared at him. ‘And what’s more, I don’t intend to start married life by letting you order me around. You aren’t buying an obedient doll for a wife!’

‘I didn’t think I was buying anything!’

Louisa came into the room, paused and would have backed out, but Ben turned and said through gritted teeth, ‘Will you see if you can talk some sense into her, Aunt?’

‘I will if you’ll calm down too, Ben. What’s wrong?’

‘She won’t…’

‘I don’t…’

‘After you.’ He waved one hand in a sarcastic flourish.

It was an effort for Megan to control her voice. ‘He wants to play King Cophetua to my beggar maid, and I don’t like it.’

Louisa raised her eyebrows questioningly at her nephew.

‘She won’t let me buy her some better clothes.’

‘I’m sure you discussed it with her tactfully, Ben.’

He flushed. ‘I told her the truth. We’ll be mixing with people who buy from the top designers. I was actually trying to save her from embarrassment.’

Louisa gestured to the chairs. ‘Do you think we might sit down to discuss this or do we have to remain standing?’

He flung himself into an armchair and Megan sat down on the very edge of the one opposite.

‘You know he’s right, Megan,’ Louisa said gently.

‘Well, he doesn’t have to be right in that tone of voice!’

‘He’s never been famous for his tact.’

Megan breathed deeply.

Ben folded his arms and stared out of the window.

Since the older woman was still looking at her quizzically, Megan sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll have to let him.’

‘Don’t do me any favours!’ snapped Ben. ‘It’s your clothes we’re talking about.’

‘You will feel a lot more comfortable if you have the right things to wear, dear,’ Louisa coaxed. ‘I was going to take you to some quite expensive places myself.’

‘Do you want to come?’

‘No. I think you can manage without me and I still have a few of Ben’s friends to contact. We’ll get your wedding outfit tomorrow.’

Ben opened his mouth. ‘Look, I—’

‘Keep quiet for the moment, Ben Saunders! I don’t like your tone of voice, either. It’s no wonder you’ve upset her.’ She might have been talking to a naughty schoolboy.

Megan looked sideways at Ben and found that he was staring coldly at her down his long, finely chiselled nose. She raised her chin and eyeballed him right back. ‘I’m not marrying you for your money,’ she said clearly and emphatically, ‘so I don’t like being the object of your charity!’

‘Charity! What the hell do you mean “charity?” You’ll be my wife!’ He ran one hand through his hair. ‘What does the money matter, anyway? I just wanted you to feel comfortable.’