Complete freedom.
She could play with her orrery all afternoon, reread her adventure books all evening, peer up at the stars all night… Anything she wished.
Gloria switched off her orrery and sighed.None of her favorite things sounded fun today.They sounded lonely.
What she needed was something to take her mind off how long it was taking for Prince Wonderful to find her.It would happen when the time was right.In the meantime…
She headed straight to the kitchen.
Madge was already waiting.“Plum pudding?”
“Plum pudding,” Gloria agreed.
Madge hauled the framed recipe from the wall, ran an unnecessary dust rag across its pristine glass surface, and propped it in a place of honor in the center of the prepping table.
Neither of them would be giving it another look.This was tradition.Gloria had memorized her mother’s careful hand the very first day she’d been allowed to help with the process.
The wonderful thing about Christmas pudding, Mother had explained, was that one was not obliged to wait for Christmas.The high quantity of liquor it contained meant a good pudding could be prepared up to a year or more before it was consumed.Wasn’t that indeed a cause for high spirits?
Gloria smiled at the memory.She washed all traces of the orrery from her hands and dried them on a clean cloth.“Ready?”
“Ready.”Madge began pulling dried fruits from the cupboard and placing them onto the prepping table.
Gloria sorted them into piles.
Plum pudding was a tradition the entire family had enjoyed.When Father sailed off, Mother and Gloria would immediately begin a new batch.When he returned, they would all enjoy it together.
Mother considered it a good luck charm.Every day, she would pass by the hook where the dried pudding hung and touch her fingertips to the cloth to wish her husband Godspeed.
Gloria had learned to do the same.
Although her parents were gone, making the pudding let her feel connected to her family again.As if her mother’s gay laughter still rang through the kitchen as she tossed any spices on hand into the mix with merry abandon.
As if Father were still a mereGodspeedaway.As if family could walk through the door at any moment.
The knocker banged against its brass base.
Gloria jumped and sent a startled glance toward her maid.
Madge hurried to the door and flung it open wide.
Christopher Pringle swept in, a slight frown of confusion upon his handsome face.“Why does your cottage smell like nutmeg and brandy?”
Gloria’s chest gave an erratic flutter.
“Miss Godwin is making pudding,” replied Madge, the traitor.“The kitchen is that way.”
It didn’t matter.He’d already witnessed her tearing about the corner like a child awaiting a visit from the Three Kings.Gloria’s cheeks heated in mortification.
She straightened her spine.It was the only choice.There was no hope of straightening her wild hair or her wrinkled gown.
“What are you doing here?”she asked.
“Am I too early?”He flinched in chagrin.“We did not set a time, but yesterday you preferred two o’clock in the afternoon, so I assumed…”
Gloria tried to understand what he was saying.“You still want me to matchmake you?”
His frown grew deeper.“Isn’t that what we agreed to?”
