She knelt below the row of the astronomy tomes to her collection of travel journals.She selected one on France and thumbed through the pages to refresh her memory of the details.Her role might not be to take part in her client’s conversation, but she did not wish to seem a country greenhorn in comparison.
When the knock came, she shoved the travel volume back in its home and motioned for Madge to open the door.
Had Gloria thought she put extra attention to her appearance this morning?Christopher Pringle looked positively divine.
His dark hair was carefully unkempt in the current style.His neckcloth folded to the perfect balance between decorative and unassuming.A well-cut coat of blue superfine brought out the contours of his shoulders.The buttery-soft buckskins encasing his strong legs… Well.
Désirée was going to love him.
“Two o’clock.”He lifted a still-functioning pocket watch from inside his jacket.“Magnificent work.”
How fortunate that she’d wasted an hour on her hair.She hadn’t rated a second glance.He cared more about his watch.
She snatched her bonnet from the sofa and smashed it on to her head.“Let’s go.It is a bit of a walk, but the sun is out and—”
“I brought a carriage.”He beamed at her.
She blinked at him.“You brought a what?”
“A chariot, to be exact.We’ll ride over.”He offered her his elbow.“Ready?”
“You brought a chariot to save yourself a walk of five hundred feet?”
He gestured at the carriage behind him.“I wanted to make a good impression.”
It was a beautiful carriage.
Gloria hated it.
“Do you want her to be interested in you or your chariot?”she asked flatly.
His eyes sparkled.“We have to travel somehow, don’t we?”
Gloria was about to retort that her legs worked quite well, thank you very much, when she realized “we” wasn’t referring to her at all.
He meant he and his future wife would spend big portions of their lives on travel adventures.He would not wish to arrive on foot and have a potential bride think for a moment that holidays with him would be spent jostling for room atop a crowded mail coach.
She ignored his proffered elbow.He was only being polite.She didn’t need his help.
“Come along, Madge,” she called over her shoulder.“We are traveling by chariot today.”
Unlike a barouche or a landau, Mr.Pringle’s chariot featured two forward-facing benches.Gloria and Mr.Pringle took the front seats, and Madge settled in behind them.
“Where to?”Mr.Pringle asked.
Gloria pointed.“We’ll take the first left up ahead.”
“Thank you for doing this.”His eyes were warm, his smile sincere.“I had begun to think I was running out of time.”
She blinked.“How could you possibly be running out of time?You cannot be more than what, nine-and-twenty?”
“Two-and-thirty,” he answered.“But I was referring to my time in Christmas coming to a close.I’m here for a month, and a fortnight is already gone.”
Betrothed and wed in two weeks’ time?That wasn’t cutting things close.That was impossible.
“Do you plan to kidnap a wife?”she asked.“What about banns?They take three weeks to read.”
“I’ll get a special license if necessary,” he said as if private audiences with the Archbishop of Canterbury were as easy to procure as penny pies.“Then sweep my bride off on a magnificent adventure.”
