Bridget blinked when she heard the voice. Years of being a spinster, then the billionaire American, followed by the return of the chisel-jawed English love of her life, and now the universe was sending her into the path of a mysterious French stranger. Under other circumstances, it might be exciting. She had enough on her mind already. All she wanted was to find Mark.
She turned around sheepishly and gave what she could manage of a smile, given her embarrassment. "Yes. I'm so sorry to barge in. I'm afraid I've taken a dreadful wrong turn. I'm supposed to be in the courthouse. If you could point me back in the right direction, I'd really appreciate it." She could at least try to add in some French. What was it? Silver plates and mercy buckets? No, that wasn't right. "uh, S'il vous plaît." Yes, that sounded much better as she said it.