Formidable Lord Quentin
“The moment Bell disappeared into the bowels of Belden Hall—and her sisters descended on him—he had the urge to flee for town, just as Bell had predicted.
“Where will the wedding be held?” Tess demanded. “You have the license, do you not? Should we be writing invitations to the breakfast?”
“Will there be any eligible bachelors?” Syd asked eagerly.
“And will your family be there? What about the marquess?”
Quent shoved his hand through his hair and tried to glare down their eager questions, but these were Bell’s sisters. They deserved answers. He didn’t have any. “Where’s Bell?” he asked in desperation. They’d only just arrived an hour ago. How far could she have gone?
“In the stable, of course,” Syd said with exasperation.
“That is why we’re asking you. We can’t pry her away from her horses long enough to be sensible.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to leave the planning to the two of you,” he suggested.
“Don’t be ridiculous! We know nothing of your friends or customs.
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