Page 98 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“Why did you not go with them?”

Fiona arched an eyebrow. “And miss the firestorm about to ignite here? Not on your life.”

Agatha and Mrs. Harting muffled giggles behind their hands.

“But seriously, Gwen,” Fiona said, putting an arm around her shoulders, “I need to be here to lend you support as a friend.”

“Oh, really? Friend? Or saboteur? You know how much I adore and appreciate you, but I am best served if everyone stops meddling and lets me handle this matter on my own.”

“Those men are going to go at each other like two growling bears in a baiting pit. Are you certain you know what you are doing?”

“Of course I do. You know I do. Otherwise, why would you have trusted me with matchmaking for James?” Gwendolyn sighed. “Never mind, you were manipulating both of us into falling in love. You brought him to me because you had ordained we were a match.”

“Was I wrong? Was he not the perfect man to push you out of your complacency? I had to do it because—and I say this with the greatest respect—you know very little about men, Gwen. You were going to shrivel away to nothing and lose all chance at happiness had I not stepped in to prevent it.”

Honestly! If anyone else spoke to her in this high-handed manner, Gwendolyn would have kicked them down the stairs. But Fiona… Well, she was being Fiona, and she did have a point.

Gwendolyn knew she was not sophisticated when it came to men. She had only ever kissed Andrew until spending last night with James, and…well, merciful heavens! What passed between them was none of Fiona’s business.

Nor could Gwendolyn deny that until last night, she had been clinging to the past with an unhealthy determination.

Would Andrew ever have come for her had she not accidentally spotted him at Marchand’s café? He claimed that he would have, but how could she ever know for certain?

James had given her back her necklace while on the ride home. She now secured it around her neck and gave the teardrop a little pat to ensure it was securely attached before walking downstairs with Fiona.

They were about to walk into the parlor when Gwendolyn held her friend back a moment. “Fiona, would you mind if I moved in with you and Rob for a few days? I need peace and quiet to sort through this most important decision of my life, and I am never going to be left alone to think while here.”

“Yes, of course,” Fiona said. “But it will be very hard on Milbury and his boys.”

Gwendolyn nodded. “I know, but it will only be for a day or two until I get my bearings.”

“Or it could be a permanent separation if you choose Andrew over Milbury.”

“I…” In truth, the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Had she already decided upon James?

She inhaled lightly.

Of course she had. Her heart wanted James. It had always been waiting for James.

James. Not Andrew.

But how could she admit this to anyone after all this fuss?

Besides, this was the most important decision of her life.

She had a process. She made lists. Her sacred lists. It would not take her long to write down the strengths and faults of Andrew and James and then rank them in importance.

She had approached her matchmaking attempts in the same manner and had an entire folder filled with lists about the prospective brides and their compatibility with James. She refused to consider those particular lists as failures, because they hadn’t been. James had been purposely undermining her every match because he wanted to be matched with her.

That was a point in his favor, was it not?

After setting down each man’s strengths and weaknesses, she would then peruse the results, think on them, sleep on them—if necessary, spend several days sleeping on them—before making up her mind about…

Well, she knew which of them she wanted to marry.

Her heart began to twist painfully, as though rebelling over her attempted use of logic to determine a result she had already made. But how could she toss away decades of independence, and a longstanding friendship and betrothal with Andrew, because of a single night with James?

Well, it was also months of working closely with James, too.