In a shocking example of how the wedding preparations were flapping the unflappable, Jean was reviewing her ledgers and notebooks between hasty bites at the dinner table. Matthew noted with amusement how Lucien kept his head down and ate steadily rather than question it. The wedding date had been set for only a week now, but Lucien had received the sharp edge of her tongue enough times to know to keep his mouth shut….or so Matthew thought.

"Darling, why don't you leave that for a minute and enjoy dinner?" Lucien said, reaching over to still her hand scribbling names on a guest list.

Her head jerked up and Matthew cringed in fear.

Like the rattling of gunfire, she replied: "Lucien, we're already behind and are playing catch up every moment. With the long honeymoon after the wedding, your patients have been ringing up constantly for appointments. I'll be using flowers from the garden in the arrangements and need to assure there's peak bloom, and then there's you two—"

Her sharp gaze fell on Matthew and Lucien.

Holding up his hands, Matthew protested, "Keep me out of this!"

"You want to be best man," she retorted.

Charlie snickered into his glass of water.

Lucien's back was up. "What about us?"

"You need new suits." Jean flipped the page in her ledger and drew a dark line under the word Suits.

"New suits?" Lucien shook his head. "We've got perfectly good suits. My blue is nearly new—"

Matthew saw this all going terribly wrong, and fast. He put his hand on Lucien's arm. "Suits, right," he barked. "We'll go to the tailors on Monday," and he was graced with a smile from Jean.

Lucien started to speak and Matthew tightened his grip on his friend's arm. Pursing his lips, Lucien pulled his arm free, but remained silent.

"What colour?" Matthew asked, earning a roll of Lucien's eyes.

"Black, I think," Jean said, giving him another approving smile. "That'll go with whatever I choose for my suit."

"Right." Matthew returned to his chicken.

But Lucien was spoiling for a fight. "I still don't see why you're not getting a wedding dress—"

Charlie looked alarmed; even with his limited experience, he knew this would not end well for Lucien. Matthew cleared his throat loudly but Lucien didn't hear the warning. "Perhaps a nice cream colour?" he suggested.

She stabbed a carrot off her plate. "That would be utterly ridiculous. I'm not some sweet young thing prancing down the aisle for the first time," she huffed.

"Well, of course not—" Lucien started to say, and then her indignant glare stopped him. Confused, he looked around the table.

"I'll pop up to Melbourne to find a suit. Something dignified, classic, that I can wear again—"

"You know that you don't have to worry about the money—"

Matthew sighed heavily. Although his own wedding had been decades ago, he vaguely remembered the point when the squabbles started. It would appear that Lucien and Jean had arrived at that crossroads.

Sure enough, Jean tossed her head back so she could look down her nose at Lucien. "It's not about money," she said coldly. "It's about what people will think—"

Lucien laughed. "As though what you wear will make up for my public disgrace—"

She pointedly ignored him and looked to Matthew; he'd shown that he was willing to work with her. "You'll got to Bergman's for your suits; he does the best work. Narrow lapels. Two buttons." She glanced at Lucien, but it was not for approval. "And no waistcoats."

Outraged, Lucien opened his mouth to speak.

Charlie decided he had to break in before things got anymore heated. "Speaking of Melbourne," he said loudly, breaking up their argument, "I've accepted a spot for detective training in Melbourne. I'll be leaving in three weeks. I'll be gone about six months. I'm afraid I'll miss the wedding—"

Lucien and Jean stared at him. Finally, Lucien clapped his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll miss you, but what a great opportunity." He turned to Jean. "Right, Jean?"

Jean's eyes suddenly flooded with tears. She rose abruptly from the table. "I need to…take the washing off the line," she managed to say before fleeing the room.

Matthew crossed his arms and glared at Lucien and Charlie. "Blood hell, you two are useless," he growled.

Lucien showed that he wasn't a complete loss, and hurried to find his fiancee. After finishing his dinner and taking his empty plate to the sink, Matthew peered out through the window. Would his mate manage to smooth things over? Yes, Lucien was cradling Jean in his arms, stroking her hair as she sniffled into his chest.

"What did I do?" Charlie was looking over his shoulder.

"One son is overseas, and the other probably won't come to the wedding. And now you're leaving."

"Oh." Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I didn't think of that."

Matthew slapped him on the back. "But you took her attention off Lucien being a dickhead, so you were best man of the moment."