Madge’s cough sounded suspiciously like,Also a man thing.
Gloria ignored her.They were here on business.With luck, Cupid would show up to the meeting.
She found it best not to inform people they were being matchmade so the note she had sent round to Désirée only mentioned she would stop by before teatime with a friend.
The butler ushered them into a beautiful entryway.
If Désirée was surprised that the friend in question was the exceptionally handsome brother of the equally handsome rake who had turned their town on its ear, she made no sign.
Either she had always suspected that Gloria hobnobbed with attractive heirs to dukedoms, or Désirée possessed a particularly impressive poker face.
“Allow me to present Mr.Christopher Pringle.”Gloria turned to her client.“Mr.Pringle, this is Mademoiselle le Duc.”
“Enchanté,” he murmured.Rather than bow or even press his lips to her fingers, they leaned forward and exchanged air kisses on both sides of their cheeks.
“It is exactly like being in France,” Désirée said in her charming accent, with an equally charming giggle.“Do you speak French, Monsieur Pringle?”
Those were the last words Gloria understood for the next quarter hour.
She followed them into a lush drawing room, joined them before the fire, accepted tea when Désirée served it, and pretended to follow along.
One did not need to speak French to understand what was happening: Love at first sight, right before her eyes.Gloria was the greatest matchmaker in the history of matchmakers.Scant moments into the first introduction, and these two were already carrying on as if they’d known each other their entire lives.
She did her best to look pleased, rather than put out.Mr.Pringle was being charming, and Désirée was a treasure.They did not mean to exclude her.They likely hadn’t realized she wasn’t following along with what appeared to be rapid-fire flirty little jokes.
Gloria doubted that Désirée had much opportunity to speak French outside of her family, so it must be a relief to feel eloquent and witty again instead of tongue-tied and foreign.Whatever she was saying now had him chuckling in commiseration over some shared experience or another.
If there was a difference between Désirée’s French accent and Mr.Pringle’s, Gloria could not discern it.Either he’d had the best French tutors in all of England, or he’d spent a significant amount of time in France.No wonder he and Désirée had so much to discuss.
Gloria reminded herself it was not the matchmaker’s place to horn in.No matter how intrigued she was by their budding romance… and whatever they were saying in French.
She owned no less than three travel journals about France, one dedicated entirely to Paris.The illustrations were magnificent but could not hold a candle to the true experience.Yet it would have to be enough.
Her arms hugged tighter about her chest.No matter how much she longed to see places like Paris with her own eyes, the thought of traveling there filled her with such panic it squeezed the air from her lungs.
Only a dunce would go in this climate.The war was ongoing, with more atrocities reported every day.She would stay right here in Christmas, thank you very much.The safest corner in all of England.
Désirée’s tinkling laugh rang out yet again, and she patted Gloria’s arm in delight.“It is marvelous that you bring your friend to me.For so much time, I only speak French with my brothers.”
Mr.Pringle leaned back in surprise.“Surely many of the well-appointed tourists have had a French lesson or two?”
“Yes, yes, they have lessons.”Désirée wrinkled her nose.“But they think all French people are from Paris.They do not know my village as you do.”
Gloria blinked.He had visited the exact village?Could there possibly be a better sign?
“It is now many years, and I am still an outsider.”Her expression was wistful.“Some of the neighbors, they see us as a caricature, and not a welcome one.”
Gloria’s stomach twisted.She liked to believe that her bighearted town would welcome anyone needing a safe place to stay, just as in the Christmas story, and she hated to think her home had made anyone feel unwelcome.
Yet she was not naïve.England was at war.Caricatures of the French appeared in every newspaper.The words people used when describing Désirée’s homeland were unkind, to say the least.
Gloria touched her fingertips to her friend’s arm.“Christmas is open to everyone.I’m glad you’re here.If there’s ever anything I can do…”
Désirée smiled.“You are always sweet, and a good friend.Do not worry.You bring gentlemen like Monsieur Pringle, of course I am fine.”
He grinned back at her, then pulled a face when he glimpsed the hour on the clock next to the window.“Do the French observe the custom of afternoon visits lasting no more than twenty or thirty minutes?”
She made a pretty moue.“I do not know the regulations.You may stay as long as you please.”
