Scones and Sensibility (19 page)

“Or invited me to tea?”

Again, I shook my head.

She laughed a most hearty and forgiving laugh that instantly lightened my soul. “Well, I have to say, you were quite good, Polly. David and …” She looked over at the man, who resembled every bit a dunce. “We’ve gone on a few dates over the past few months, and well, I didn’t think he was very serious about me. Now, however …” She gazed into his eyes that were a rather dull blue compared to dear Mr. Fisk’s.

“Course I’m serious about you, Luce. I just haven’t gotten much of a chance to show you.”

And those words, however unromantic they were, caused the two to lock in a lover’s embrace that was not nearly as beautiful as I imagined Mr. Fisk and Miss Penny’s union would be.

David held out his hand and Mr. Fisk shook it tentatively. “Sorry about all the noise and the misunderstanding. I hope I didn’t scare you all too bad.”

Mr. Fisk sighed. “It’s all right.”

“At least now Luce knows how much I’d like to go out with her.”

At that moment a police car arrived on the scene. However, they did not linger long once they were assured that peace had been restored. The couple then departed on the wings of love.

I sighed. Though this ending was not what I had envisioned or desired, love had indeed prevailed, and in that my heart rejoiced.

I turned to Fran and sighed. “Though I think your father was a much better match for the lovely lady, I suppose David may have some admirable qualities about him, however small they may be.”

“All right, girls,” Mr. Fisk said ever so sternly, and I recalled the fact that Mr. Fisk was most likely much perturbed about the situation. He placed his firm hands upon our shoulders. “You two, in the house, now.”

Fran and I followed him inside like prisoners of war. What would be our fate? Servants for a fortnight? Made to scrub the floors as payment for our trespasses?

We sat upon the couch and awaited our judgment.

I glanced up at Mr. Fisk as he stood by the hearth, leaning on it like a figure from a classic book. If there
had been a pipe in his mouth, he’d have looked very distinguished indeed.

“So, what is all this?” he asked. “Flowers from me, pastries from me? It seems like I’ve been pretty busy.”

I placed a gentle hand on Fran’s. I would lay down my own life for the honor of my bosom friend. “It was I. Your dearest daughter is not to blame. That rests on my own head. It was my idea. I only sought to bring you to a union that was sure to be one from a dream.”

“And in this matchmaking dream did you see me get punched in the nose?”

“Of course not, dear sir! Nothing of the sort. If you speak of Miss Lucy’s suitor, I am still convinced that the match will not work in the end and if you wish, I will keep a watchful eye on—ouch.”

Fran pinched my arm, and I was quite sure a bruise was in the process of forming on my delicate skin at that very moment.

Mr. Fisk sighed. “No thanks, Polly. That’s nice that you want to help, but I’ve already found a wonderful woman, who is visiting in just—”

“A few days. Yes, Fran has told me about this … 
Ruthie Carmichael
, but, since you do not know this
woman, I find the situation very suspicious and possibly dangerous.”

Mr. Fisk scratched his noble chin. “But really, you didn’t know much about that Lucy Penny either, and that nearly got us killed.”

“That was purely a … a misunderstanding. I know it was presumptuous of me. But I have had successful experience at matchmaking.” I looked at Fran, hoping she did not bring up the fact that it was of a canine nature.

“You have, have you?”

“Yes, sir. And you have to admit, if Miss Penny weren’t … weren’t already spoken for, she would be someone who would have suited your heart’s desire.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, maybe not. She seems nice, but beyond that I don’t know her at all. This ‘computer woman,’ as you refer to her, is completely real and honest and, well, she’s wonderful.”

I let out a sigh. Though the way he said these words was ever so romantic and sincere, I was still not convinced that Ruthie Carmichael was a woman to be trusted. The Fisks’ previous situation involving Internet communication gave me much reason to doubt, and I was inwardly shocked that it did not seem to trouble Mr. Fisk’s soul in the least.

“So enough of this matchmaking, girls, okay? I’m a big boy and can take care of myself. And don’t worry,” Mr. Fisk said, placing a loving hand upon Fran’s head. “I’d never make any decisions without talking with you first, Fran. You’ll always be my number-one girl.”

Fran smiled.

“Now that I’ve survived that ordeal with all my limbs still in place, I’m going to go to my office and get some work done.”

He placed a delicate kiss on top of Fran’s elegant forehead before retiring to his office.

Fran turned to me once the door had clicked closed. “Polly, I can’t believe you didn’t know she was seeing someone else. Lucky for me, he didn’t ground me for life!”

She was angered. I saw it in the way her chin trembled ever so slightly in a manner that was quite exquisite, while the depth of her feelings moved me to compassion. I made a mental note to practice this gesture at home.

I reached for her hand. “Please accept my apologies, dear Fran. I did not know of this prior relationship of Miss Penny’s, and feel equally deceived that she had not been honest with me from the first.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s all right, I guess.
But it’s over, okay? Ruthie’s coming in just a few days and, Polly, she’s really nice. I think you’d love her.”

I shook my head, my curls swishing gently around my face. “This is not over in the least, dearest Fran. I cannot leave you, the dearest friend of my heart, or your father, alone in this hour. I fear that I care for you too greatly, and maybe that is where I am at fault. But forward I must proceed, and I promise that I shall find for your father a woman of impeccable manners, beauty, and elegance who will melt his heart and bring you all the happiness that you so richly deserve.”

“But Dad told us to stop. You can’t, Polly. He’ll kill me.” Fran looked quite desperate.

“But I must, Fran. I know you are not as familiar in the ways of love as I am, but it is for the best. Your father seems to like this Ruthie Carmichael very much. But how much, I ask, and is this love for real? That is what we must determine. By introducing him to another beautiful woman, either his love for Ruthie will falter and their connection will end, or it will cause his love for her to increase.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “So, you’re saying that we set my dad up again so that he knows for sure that he really likes Ruthie?”

“Indeed, I am.”

She shrugged. “I guess that makes sense. But he’ll have our heads if he finds out.”

“We will not let him know what we are planning. The woman will arrive as a friend of ours and conveniently meet your father over a tea that we will give. Therefore your father will not suspect a thing from us.”

“Okay, but Polly, if he doesn’t fall for this new girl, then all the matchmaking is over, okay?”

“You have my solemn vow as your bosom friend.”

But as I departed, I was quite sure that the woman I found would surely become Mr. Fisk’s one true love, the one who would complete him. “I will speak with you tonight, Fran!” I called back to her, waving my handkerchief in the air to bid her good-bye.

But as dusk fell like dew upon the grass, I had yet to find a woman for Mr. Fisk.

I had met an elegant lady sitting in Fran’s and my spot beneath the Old One in the Haven of Heaven. I approached her as she sat underneath the boughs, book in hand, whilst the sun glinted off her golden hair. But after a minute or two I found that she had only just begun college, and was therefore not suitable for Mr. Fisk (who himself could have been her father).

Another woman I found walking along the beach. Her hair was speckled with strands of silvery gray, though her face bore no wrinkles of the aged. I followed her for a ways, and then was dismayed to find five children running toward her and calling her “Mommy!” Though I knew that Mr. Fisk adored the young, to once again be burdened with the trials of toddlerhood is a fate that I wish upon no one who has already escaped it. Especially after seeing the unpredictable behavior of Mr. Nightquist’s grandson, Charles.

And so I retreated home, defeated in spirits, though attempting to be hopeful. After supper I retired to my bedroom to contemplate a bit more where I might find such a lady as would be suitable.

Once in my bedroom, I collapsed onto my satin comforter and pulled out
Pride and Prejudice
and
Anne of Green Gables
, letting the words soak into my being, something that always aided me in times of trial.

A knock on my door awoke me from romantic dreams of Mr. Fisk and the woman who would fulfill his heart’s longing as Elizabeth Bennet had fulfilled Mr. Darcy’s.

“You may enter.”

My dearest sister swept inside, a sly smile upon her lips. Oh, dear! I still had not determined how I was to keep Clint and Clementine from meeting with one another. But though instantly troubled, I composed myself with grace. “Yes, Clementine?”

“There’s someone at the door for you.”

“Heavens, I did not even hear the ring of the doorbell, so consumed was I in my own pensive thoughts.”

“It’s a boy,” she said, causing my heart to tremble in my breast.

“Oh, no! It must be Brad!” I grasped my sister’s hand in mine. “Dearest Clementine, you must save me from having to speak with him. I fear he will not be dissuaded from pursuing me.”

She laughed. “You don’t like him? He seems like a nice guy.”

“I can vouch for his character, though I abhor the thought of him as a suitor for myself. Please, Clementine, tell him—” My mind was empty of thoughts. “Tell him … tell him that I am in the throes of sickness and that … that I am not expected to recover for quite some time. That should convince him to leave me be, and perhaps he will pursue another girl.”

She laughed again. “All right. But only this time. If he comes back, you need to say it to him yourself, okay?”

I nodded and fell upon my knees. “My dearest sister, I thank you from the depths of my being for this favor that you do me. You are indeed—”

“Save it, Polly,” she said, and shut my door.

But I feared to move from this spot, even though my eyes longed to see his reaction to such news about my health. It was only when the door shut below that I heard Clementine walk lightly up the stairs and knock once more on my door. “He left this for you,” she said, and handed me a box that was wrapped in such bright pink paper that I feared for my eyesight.

She left me alone and I unwrapped the gift to find a delicate golden clock. The sight was breathtaking as I drank in the elegant curves of the miniature timepiece. I brought the face to my ear and smiled at the rhythmic
tick tock, tick tock
that pulsed inside it.

It was a grand gift indeed, and one that I was tempted to accept. But alas, I knew I could not. Accepting his gift would be accepting him, and I would not give him false hope.

I could not.

But the time was drawing late, so I set the
beautiful clock upon my nightstand and turned off the light, allowing myself one night of enjoyment of the gift before I returned it to Mr. Baker.

And indeed, I slept well under its watchful, golden eye.

U
pon finishing breakfast the next morn, I departed with a basket laden with pastries for empty stomachs, and plans of love for yearning hearts.

Passing by Miss Wiskerton’s home, I was reminded of the romantic evening she and Mr. Nightquist surely had had the night before. In all that had happened at Fran’s home, I had forgotten that I had wanted to be at the beach to ensure that all would go well with them. I would just have to trust that love had entwined them to each other. For though my heart ached to hear of their blossoming romance, time would not permit me. I had but one day to find the woman that would forever nourish Mr. Fisk’s body, mind, and soul.

If a moment allowed, I would call upon the dear lady to hear her thoughts on the previous evening and
to accept her gracious thanks for bringing she and dear Mr. Nightquist together.

But the morning did not bode well. Nary a woman I saw was suitable for Mr. Fisk. Many were much too old, others much too young, such that by the early afternoon, as the sun beat down upon my back, I began to despair.

Could it be that I had failed my dearest friend? Would she remain motherless for all eternity, with only her father and her bosom friend as companions?

I imagined my dearest Fran growing older, age lining her delicate face. (All the more likely since she refused to protect her skin with a bonnet.) And because she never had a mother to call her own, vowing her soul into the humble service of the great Virgin Mother. And though it was indeed a romantic destiny, it was not one that I would choose for my bosom friend. And it was that vision that awakened my heart anew. I would continue to search on Fran’s behalf.