Petra struggled to explain. “Maybe it is for most women, Guy, but I don’t like being the center of attention. I want to get married, I want to be married to you, and as soon as possible. I don’t want to take months over it.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “Don’t you understand, Petra? A rushed, unceremonious wedding will look as if we have something to hide, as if you don’t really want to be my wife.”

“That’s nonsense,” she said with a stubborn twist to her lips. “It’ll look as if we wanted a quiet and quick wedding.”

“And what impression does that give?” he demanded. “Think, Petra. Think of the whispers.”

She looked at him in dawning understanding. “But that’s ridiculous,” she exclaimed. “Why would anyone dig for a scandal?”

“Because, my dear, I do not have a lily white reputation,” he stated bluntly.

Petra grimaced. “But that’s got nothing to do with me. Besides, I don’t give a fig for what people are saying.”

“No, you’ve made that abundantly clear, but in this instance as it happens, I do.” He regarded her in the ensuing silence, reading her frustration on her mobile countenance. After a moment, he sighed, saying, “I won’t insist on Hanover Square, or even London at all. If you prefer we will be married from your family home in Somerset. But the guest list has to have the right names on it and the customary rites have to be observed. The engagement will be formally announced, there will be an engagement party, that can be as small and intimate as you wish, but the wedding itself is a different matter. I’m sorry, my dear, but I have to insist. I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re riding roughshod over everything I believe in and wish for,” she retorted. “Supposing I say I won’t be married like that?”

There was silence in the library. Guy didn’t move, merely looked at her steadily. Petra returned the look, her face set, even as she felt her heart banging against her ribs. Had she just issued an ultimatum? Finally, Guy said, “That is, of course, your prerogative, Petra. But I have to say I would be deeply sorry for it.”

Petra stood up slowly. “I think I’m going home now,” she said, her voice sounding as if it came from a great distance. “I’ll ask Babbit for my hat and gloves.” She started to walk to the door. “I’ll make my own way.”

Guy stepped swiftly in front of her, opened the door, and holding it half open he put his head around and called into the hall. “Babbit, Miss Rutherford needs her hat and gloves.” He closed it almost completely and turned to look at her. She was very pale, her expression still set, and she made a conscious effort to stiffen her shoulders under his gaze.