The Matrimony Plan Read Free Page B

ladies dropping off. Why I remember one dance where…”
    Mr. Kensington’s story brought back a painful memory. Years ago, a girl who Gabriel had escorted to a dance claimed to feel faint. He left her on a sofa and went to fetch water. Upon his return, he spied her escaping to the garden with another man. His older brothers laughingly informed him that he’d just been initiated into high society. According to them, girls used this trick all the time, and he’d fallen for it. The humiliation still stung.
    He hoped Ms. Kensington wasn’t that type of woman, but her expensive clothing and snobbish attitude put her squarely with the rest of the upper class. He’d been hoodwinked once. Never again.
    “Perhaps we should fetch a doctor,” he said brusquely.
    “Nonsense.” Kensington grabbed her handbag. “Let’s see if Felicity has some smelling salts with her.”
    So her name was Felicity, meaning great happiness or bliss. Never had a name flowed so beautifully nor fit so poorly. This Felicity looked anything but happy. The only time she’d shown a glimpse of joy was when she chased the dog. Too bad it had vanished so quickly. Beautiful yet unhappy—how often Gabriel had seen that painful combination. He brushed a strand of silken hair from her eyes.
    Kensington cleared his throat. “Pastor?”
    He shouldn’t have done that. “I, uh, did you find any smelling salts?”
    Kensington grinned beneath his mustache. “No, but she’s coming to, just like I said she would.”
    The man was right. Felicity’s face had regained some color, and her eyelids opened, revealing splendid green eyes.
    She flinched as if alarmed to see him and looked around. “Daddy? Wh-what happened?”
    Disappointment knifed through Gabriel.
    “You fainted, little one.” Kensington knelt beside his daughter, gently helping her to a sitting position.
    His love for her was evident. She was cherished, the prize of his life, and completely spoiled. Such women brought nothing but trouble. Gabriel was better off without her.
    “Can you stand?” Kensington asked her. “We need to get the pastor to the Ladies’ Aid Society meeting.”
    Gabriel gulped. The Ladies’ Aid Society? He’d never been privy to that sacred enclave, but he’d heard tales. If the stories were correct, the ladies would have his entire life laid out for public display before the end of the afternoon. With any luck, that dissection would not include Felicity Kensington.
    Felicity convinced Daddy to take her home. She couldn’t face Mother and the Ladies’ Aid Society, not in front of Gabriel.
    Gabriel. Why did he have to be so handsome? She pressed into the dark corner of the Packard’s rear seat and watched him talk to Daddy. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. She could grudgingly admire that quality. Most men cowered before her father.
    But why had she agreed to see him again? She’d never be able to explain that to Mother, and it would ruin everything with Mr. Blevins.
    Daddy stopped the car at the front door, and she scurried into the house before Gabriel could set a date. She slammedthe solid oak door shut and leaned against its cool surface, but mere wood couldn’t quench the fire inside. Before Smithson or the cook or one of the other servants appeared, she retreated to the sanctity of her room and prepared a cold compress. She pressed it to her blazing cheeks, but even icy water couldn’t suppress the wild emotions.
    A minister—she had been attracted to a minister. Not to say that there was anything wrong with the ministry but it just wasn’t for her. She had to marry wealth and privilege. She had to find a man who lived far from Pearlman if she ever hoped to escape Mother.
    She unpinned the useless chignon and let her hair fall free. How could she have been so mistaken? He clearly wasn’t socially prominent—the dusty shoes, the rolled-up sleeves. But what pastor walked around so informally dressed? And with a Ladies’ Aid Society meeting to