“Trial and error,” Penelope explained.“A perfectly reasonable method of scientific deduction.Spend an appropriate amount of time with each until you find the one that fits.”
“Exactly how long is the appropriate amount of time to stay married?”Nick growled as he pulled his future bride into his arms for a kiss.
“Forever,” she giggled.“But we found the right match.Your brother is still looking.”
Christopher considered her proposition.“I think providing an appropriate amount of time with each potential candidate is exactly what the matchmaker is trying to do.Letting me see what works.”
Penelope’s sharp gaze focused on his.“How are things going with Gloria?”
Where to begin?
She was maddening.Beautiful.Frustrating.Thoughtful.Overly cautious.Overly whimsical.Completely incomprehensible.
At his silence, Nick’s jaw dropped.“You haven’t fallen for the matchmaker, have you?”
“She has the wrong name for every single constellation,” Christopher said.“And she refuses to follow a simple recipe when she cooks.”
“That’s a firm ‘no,’” Nick whispered to Penelope.“Chris is married to rules.”
“I enjoy having order in my life,” Christopher protested.“Don’t act like you’re different, just because you used other rules.You liked the clear-cut expectations that came with being a rake.I enjoy the comfort of understanding the systems around me.”
“Systems are good,” Penelope agreed.“Plants wouldn’t be green without chlorophyll.Everything would die without oxygen.”
“Courtship isn’t life or death,” Nick reminded her.
She shrugged.“It can feel like life or death.I was very upset when I thought you were still raking other ladies.You lads are more alike than you think.”
Christopher and his brother exchanged dubious glances.“Alike how?”
“Restlessness,” she answered immediately.“Nick’s restlessness meant constantly changing women.Yours means constantly changing location.But eventually you’ll find the one that you want.”
“He’ll find the right woman or the right location?”Nick asked.
“Both,” Penelope answered.“Maybe.It’s not an exact science.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Christopher said.“Perhaps this village isn’t where I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
“You’re definitely looking in the wrong place.”Nick turned to Penelope.“He spends the entire night staring up at the stars.There are better uses of one’s time.”
“Not lately,” Christopher reminded him.“My telescope is still broken.Is there a jeweler in town who might—”
“Gloria can fix that,” Penelope said.“She can fix anything.”
“She did fix my pocket watch,” he admitted.“But a telescope is infinitely more delicate.This particular one is the newest model available, both rare and expensive.I cannot risk—”
“Gloria can do anything,” Penelope repeated.“She even helped design an alarm that can be heard through soundproof walls.”
Nick groaned.“Gloria did that?”
“Listen to this.”Penelope jumped up from the dining table and dashed toward the kitchen.
Nick slanted Christopher a long-suffering look.“I blame this on you.”
“Blame what on—”
A deafening racket rent the air, like a thousand hammers banging a thousand pots inches from his eardrums.
Penelope appeared in the doorway and pointed over their heads with a self-satisfied expression.“Gloria.”
