The Matrimony Plan

That’s why she deliberated over the small collection of luxury goods in the mercantile’s display case. The morning sun streamed through the store window, sending a thousand sparkles off the paste jewelry. She drew her attention to those items suitable for a man of recent acquaintance. Sterling hat brush, watch or pocketknife. None of them struck her as perfect. She wondered if Blake had any stock not yet on the shelves.

“No, Ms. Kensington,” Josh Billingsley said in answer to her query.

“Any due in over the next week?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He didn’t even look at the order book. Honestly, her brother should hire better help. She examined her options again. Perhaps a book. The slender volume of Wordsworth had a calfskin cover and ribbon place marker, but would Robert read poetry? Gabriel yes, but Robert? She imagined Robert reclining at the picnic, reading love poems to her. Though she could picture his strawberry-blond hair and outrageous mustache, the voice was always Gabriel’s rich baritone.

Definitely not Wordsworth. Perhaps the hat brush? Too impersonal. The pocketknife? Too masculine. Besides, he’d already have one.

She bit her lip, trying to decide, and overheard a pair of giggling voices—Sally Neidecker and Eloise Grattan, if she wasn’t mistaken. The two stood directly behind her, hidden by the tall candy display. They’d been inseparable since the first day of primary school. Whiplike Sally, whose parents’ wealth was second only to Felicity’s, stuck her nose into everyone else’s business while Eloise blundered along blindly with everything Sally suggested.

“He looked at me,” Eloise giggled. “Did you see it?”

“Who didn’t?” Sally whispered. “He likes you. I can tell.”

Felicity could guess whom they were talking about. Gabriel. Good. She needed to wipe him from her mind. The image of Gabriel kissing Eloise Grattan was just the thing. She picked up the book of Wordsworth and leafed through it.

“Do you really think so? I’m not too young?” Eloise’s voice fluttered with nervous worry.

Too young? He couldn’t be more than a year or two older than her. She stifled a laugh, and the book accidentally knocked the glass of the display case.

“Shh,” Sally said. “Someone’s listening.”

“Who?” asked a panicked Eloise.

Felicity buried her head in the book and pressed into the corner, out of their line of sight.

“It’s only Felicity Kensington,” Sally said after a moment, “and she’s busy reading, but just to be safe, pretend you’re looking at the candy.”

“But I am looking at the candy.”

“To buy some, silly.”

“I was going to get some horehound drops,” Eloise said, and for a moment Felicity felt sorry for her. Sally was sure to ridicule the choice.

“Horehound? That’s for sore throats.”

“Pa likes them,” Eloise said weakly.

After that, the conversation stopped for so long that Felicity thought they’d left. She edged out of the corner and spied the two girls still at the candy counter.

“You don’t think I’m too young?” Eloise asked again.

“Not at all,” Sally said flippantly. “Some men like younger women.”

Felicity rolled her eyes.

“But my size—”

“My brother says men like a woman with some meat.”

Joe Neidecker might like substantial women, but Felicity doubted Gabriel did.

“Do you think I have a chance?” Eloise whispered.

Sally’s voice lowered, but Felicity could just make out the last bit. “…the barn after lunch.”

They were going to the barn? Felicity nearly dropped the book. Eloise wasn’t infatuated with Gabriel. She wanted Robert. Impossible. He would never fall in love with someone like Eloise. She had no breeding or wealth. She brought nothing to a marriage.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Sally said.

Felicity’s pulse beat faster. Sally didn’t offer her assistance unless she expected to gain something, even from her sidekick. Eloise might think Sally was joining her to help, but in the end, Sally, not Eloise, would have Robert—unless Felicity got there first.

She snapped the book shut. She couldn’t wait for the Founder’s Day picnic. If she wanted to secure Robert, she had to act now. But how? She couldn’t pester him like Eloise. That was sure to drive the man away. No, she needed a good, logical reason to interrupt his business or he’d only be annoyed. Business. That was it. She set the book back on the shelf.

“Oh, Felicity,” said Sally, sliding past her, “I didn’t see you. When is the committee meeting?”

“I’ll contact you,” Felicity said sweetly, as if she hadn’t overheard a thing. “I’m glad you’re helping.”

“Oh, not me. Eloise is on the committee. I’m far too busy to be on some silly old committee.”

“It’s hardly silly.” Felicity couldn’t believe she was defending Mother’s pet project. “The new window is important to the church.”

Sally shrugged. “Everyone knows the only person who really wants it is your mother. That’s why she named you chairwoman.”

Felicity clenched her fists. “No one supports this community more. Why, if it weren’t for the Kensingtons—”

“Kensington,” Sally snorted and rolled her eyes at Eloise, who giggled. “I wouldn’t throw that name around so much if I were you.”

“What do you mean?” Felicity demanded.

Again, Sally laughed. “Not a thing.” She took Eloise by the arm, and the two girls walked off, whispering to each other.

Felicity stood dumbfounded before the candy display. People disparaged the Kensington name on occasion, but no one had ever done so to her face.

“Kin I help you, Ms. Kensington?” Josh Billingsley asked.

She shook her head. Sally and Eloise’s snide comments didn’t matter. They were just trying to distract her from Robert. Well, they would not succeed. Felicity had one option they didn’t. As committee chairwoman, she could request Robert Blevins’s assistance with the new stained glass window. A man liked nothing better than to demonstrate his skill, and it would give her all the time with him that she needed.

Gabriel awoke the next morning with a sense of purpose and a stomachache. The former would propel his new sermon for Sunday, assuming he wasn’t fired before then. The latter undoubtedly sprang from that meeting last night.

After stewing about Kensington’s threat for almost an hour, he’d paid the exorbitant cost to place a long distance telephone call home. Dad could tell him what to do. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad were at the opera, and he could only talk with his sister, Mariah.

Though she usually made sense of the worst muddles, last night she’d offered no solution.

“Do what you must, Gabe,” she’d said over the crackling line. “And pray first.”