“Then ‘love of adventure’ is a top priority.”Penelope smiled at him encouragingly.“Be sure to tell the matchmaker.”
Was that truly the best way?
“I don’t know.”Christopher hesitated.“Involving a third-party…”
“Is often the wisest decision,” Penelope finished firmly.“Do you cut your own hair?Extract your own teeth?Tailor your own clothes?When something needs to be done right, an expert is always the right choice.”
Christopher let out his breath.“And who is the expert?”
“Miss Gloria Godwin,” Penelope said without hesitation.“She lives three cottages to the north.Holly wreath on the front door.You can’t miss it.”
Nick slanted a look at his bride.“Gloria who believes in love?”
“Of course, Gloria who believes in love.”Penelope gave a sharp nod.“She’ll make him a match in no time.”She turned to Christopher.“Gloria is an absolute darling, and a pillar of the community.She is definitely who you need to see.”
The idea was appealing, if unconventional.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
“That’s a no,” Nick whispered.“When Chris gets started thinking about something, he is likely never to stop.”
Penelope lifted a finger.“Give me your word you’ll stop by as soon as you leave here.”
Christopher inclined his head.“Very well.I give my word.”
He was not convinced it would work, but it couldn’t be worse than what awaited him back at the castle.
“I can send you with a letter of reference.”Penelope sat up straight.“Hold on a moment while I fetch some foolscap.”
“That won’t be necessary.”Christopher rose to his feet.“I’m not applying to be a governess.I’m offering to be a client.I’ll take it from here.”
In fact, there was no reason to waste another moment.
He took his leave from the lovebirds and headed back outside into the lightly falling snow.His boots crunched as he turned north on the snow-packed street and counted out the cottages.The third one bore a holly wreath exactly as Penelope had described.
He presented himself on the doorstep and rapped sharply upon the knocker.
A ruddy-cheeked maid with laughter lines and a streak of gray hair answered the door.
He presented his calling card.“Mr.Christopher Pringle to see Miss Gloria Godwin, if you’d be so kind as to let her know.”
The maid frowned over his shoulder at the falling snow, then motioned him inside.
He stepped into the entryway, which opened into a cozy parlor.A coatrack stood to one side.Christopher did not use it.
The maid closed the door behind him.“A moment, please, while I present your card.”
Unfortunately for all parties involved, the presenting of the card turned out to be an unnecessary step.
Miss Gloria Godwin herself hurried toward the drawing room, likely in response to the knock.Her obvious consternation upon recognizing the caller might have been humorous if Christopher hadn’t felt precisely the same dismay.
The young lady standing before him was none other than the gravy-for-brains madwoman spouting nonsense about dukes and waistcoat spangles in the sky to a group of children and would-be stargazers.
“You have to be bamming me,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“I could say the same,” she answered hotly, brown eyes flashing.“What the devil are you doing here?”
An excellent question.Christopher would leave at once if he hadn’t been forced to give his word.
