Merry gave a soft gasp of recognition.
“I’d like to introduce to you my lady friend.” Carlisle pulled her a little closer. “Merry Hurst, may I introduce you to Gretchen Blaise—also known as Gretchen Huntington—and her husband Philippe and her mother Helen Lane.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Merry shook their hands.
“Is that a Linda Jackson gown?” Helen asked, eyeing Merry’s dress.
“Yes.”
Carlisle expected her to mention the family connection. When she didn’t, he did. “Linda’s her mother.”
“Isshe?” Helen asked with interest. “She is truly a gifted designer. I keep telling her she should expand her market, but I must confess I’m glad she hasn’t. I don’t have to compete for her time.”
“You’re sitting with us,” Gretchen said.
“Of course,” Carlisle said with a chuckle. “You’re the one who made this a command performance.”
“Well, it’s time to schmooze for a bit. It was lovely to meet you, Merry.” Gretchen gave Carlisle a cheeky grin and said, “I look forward to getting to know yourlady friendbetter.”
The three of them began making their way through the growing crowd, often stopping to talk to people and even signing autographs.
“How did you meet Gretchen?” Merry asked, glancing around the room and waving to someone she knew.
“Through my late wife. Cressy’s older sister and Gretchen went to school together, and she came to stay with them one summer. She and Cressy became best friends.” Gratitude swelled inside Carlisle. “Gretchen and Phillipe got me through it. I don’t know what I’d have done without them.”
“I understand that completely. My mother was my biggest support. She’s so strong, and she’d lost her husband too.” Merry sighed. “How could I give in tomyloss when she provided me such a powerful example?”
“But you’d lost your father as well.” Carlisle moved his hand from her waist to her cheek, saying softly, “You amaze me.”
Her gaze met his, and that sense of completion washed through him again. He almost kissed her right there in front of everyone, but someone jostled him from behind and reminded him where they were. He dropped his hand.
“Oh, don’t stop, young man,” an unfamiliar older woman cried from the side. “Kiss her senseless. She’s needed a good kissing for a long time.”
Merry’s cheeks turned red, and she hissed, “Stop it, Trish.”
“Well, if your young man isn’t going to kiss you, Merry, introduce me to him.” The woman leaned closer and stage-whispered, “See, I was right again. He’s the one I told you about. I told you he’d be perfect for you.”
“Carlisle Wyndham,” Merry said, mortified, “I’d like to introduce you to Trish Johnson. She’s one of my clients.”
“And a matchmaker,” the woman said, grinning at him conspiratorially. “I’malwaysright. Don’t take too long, Mr. Wyndham. If you’re not careful, someone else will snatch her up.”
“Have fun, Trish,” Merry said through gritted teeth. She took Carlisle’s arm and practically dragged him away while he tried not to laugh.
“She’s mentioned me to you?” he asked when they’d reached a quieter spot. “I don’t recall having seen her before.”
“She’s a lovely woman but, as you heard, she considers herself a matchmaker. A few months ago, she mentioned she’d seen someone she thought was perfect for me. I had no idea who she was talking about, and I don’t think I’d met you yet.” Merry shook her head. “She’s been happily married herself four times, so she wants to share that with everybody she knows.”
“How can one be happily marriedfourtimes?” he asked.
“She really was happy with each of her husbands but they all passed away. My mom told me Trish’s first husband died after ten days. She said it was so sad. Trish took the longest to recover after that one. She was single five years before she remarried.”
“I cannot even imagine having to go through that multiple times. Once was devastating enough.” Carlisle had been watching Gretchen while she and her small party made the rounds. They’d reached a table near a podium, and Philippe was pulling out chairs for his wife and mother-in-law. Carlisle said, “It appears to be time to take our seats.”
“It’s going to be strange not to sit with my mother,” Merry said, voice low, her eyes tight.
“Are you all right?”
“It’s only memories. I’ll be fine.”
