There was nothing he wanted more than to spend time with her.That was the reason why he could not.His actions would make promises he couldn’t deliver.Like becoming part of her community.Like staying a part of her life.Like anchoring himself to one spot.
He shook his head.
If she was disappointed, she did not show it.Perhaps she had guessed his answer before she extended the invitation.
He had not been as certain what he would say.
Chapter 8
When Mr.Pringle failed to present himself for matchmaking the following afternoon, Gloria could not help but recall her friends’ less-than-subtle reactions to discovering him in the market for a wife.
Perhaps he no longer required the aid of a matchmaker.Certainly, no unwed young lady in this village intended to allow him to be lonely.Perhaps he was in his true love’s embrace right this second.
She tried to scrub the image from her head by rereading one of her favorite travel journals.
It didn’t help.
She rearranged the solar system in her orrery.It didn’t help, either.She checked on the pudding.
It definitely didn’t help.
She needed answers.With an aggravated sigh, she grabbed her pelisse and set out for the castle.He liked fact-finding missions?Well, now she was on one.
It was too early for supper and too late for tea, but the dining area positively frothed with single young ladies wearing pastel gowns and hopeful expressions.It could only mean one thing.
Mr.Pringle was within.
Gloria eased her way into the dining area and took one of the last remaining seats at a far table.
Perhaps she had misread the situation.Perhaps Mr.Pringle wanted nothing more but to escape to her house for some nice matchmaking, but the buzzing cloud of shameless hoydens surrounding him would not let him leave.
She clenched her teeth.Any chit who would throw herself so blatantly at a man simply because he was charming and handsome and funny and adventurous and single…
Gloria dropped her face into her hands.Shewas one of the shameless hoydens.Jealous because she, too, wanted a chance at love.
Specifically, with Mr.Pringle.
“I heard he never stays anywhere more than a month,” whispered a voice.
She lifted her gaze.It appeared she was sharing a table with a gaggle of gossipy wallflowers.
Wonderful.
“He’s already been here three weeks,” said another.“We’ve little over a sennight left to catch his eye.”
“He’ll never see us through that ocean of hussies,” lamented another.
Gloria could not dispute the logic.The situation was worse than she thought.
“Isn’t he a fine catch?I would adore a husband who loved to travel,” gushed one of the wallflowers.“I would have him take me to Rome.”
“Madrid,” said another.
“Paris,” said a third.
“We are at war with France,” Gloria burst out.“Do your idyllic holidays include a trip to the guillotine?”
They all stared at her.
