The Matrimony Plan (12 page)

Gabriel watched Dermott Shea leave the church with growing irritation. If he hurried, he might catch the man outside. “These aren’t infants, sir. They’re older children. Excuse me, please. I should greet the rest of the congregation.”

Kensington blocked his retreat. “My point exactly. She hasn’t got a bit of experience with children. Besides, she’s a woman. You know how emotional they are. Let a woman near an orphan and she’ll get all weepy on you.”

Any thought of replacing Felicity vanished. This committee would give her a chance to stand on her own, to make decisions and act on behalf of others.

“Felicity is an intelligent young lady who will do a splendid job,” Gabriel insisted as he watched her chat with the Hunters and the Simmonses, two families with whom she didn’t generally converse.

“Exactly, but aren’t these committees usually comprised of the finest and most upstanding members of the community?”

Gabriel flinched. “I consider Ms. Kensington to be a fine, upstanding member of the community.”

Kensington did not relent. “I mean professionals, son. Doctors and businessmen. Those are the usual members of one of those orphan committees, aren’t they?”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. Kensington was right, but that didn’t mean past practice was always the best choice. “I’d like a woman on the committee.”

Eugenia Kensington had spotted them and was steaming their way, fire in her stride.

Kensington noted his wife’s approach and dropped the jovial attitude. “Let me put this plainly, son. I want to be on that committee. No one is better qualified—certainly not my daughter.”

Before Gabriel could think of a polite yet firm way to refuse, Eugenia interrupted.

“Reverend Meeks. The Ladies’ Aid Society would like your opinion on the new window. The artist sent five sketches. Do you have a moment?”

Gabriel’s sympathy for Felicity increased tenfold. “I thought your daughter was chairing that committee.”

Eugenia waved her smartly gloved hand. “She’s too busy, so I’m helping her out.”

“Too busy? Doing what?”

Eugenia stiffened, and Gabriel realized he would get nowhere protesting her plan. It was better to soften her heart and lead her gently to the right conclusion. “Very well, I’ll look at your drawings, but first I could use the Ladies’ Aid Society’s help on a new project.”

“What new project? I haven’t heard anything.”

Gabriel plunged in. “Mr. Isaacs of the Orphaned Children’s Society would like to place five children with foster families in Pearlman.”

Her face went stark white and her stained red lips trembled slightly. For a moment, he thought she was going to faint and held out an arm to brace her, but she regained her composure. “What, pray tell, does that have to do with us?”

“I hoped the Ladies’ Aid Society would consider helping the children and save the window project for later.”

“Help them? How? Don’t the foster families take on that expense?” Her jaw had tightened so much that a crowbar couldn’t open it.

“Yes, but the initial expense can be overwhelming for
some families. The children arrive with only one change of clothing.”

“Well, if they can’t afford to take on a child, they shouldn’t be given one.”

Gabriel’s stomach rolled. Had this woman no heart? He was amazed Felicity possessed any tenderness at all, given her parents. He tried again. “I feel the society’s mission would be better served helping these children than putting in a window we don’t need.”

Her face turned an ugly shade of red. “May I remind you, Pastor, the Ladies’ Aid Society decides how to spend its funds, not you.”

Felicity, who must have overheard the exchange, hurried near. “As chairwoman of the committee, I agree with Reverend Meeks.”

Eugenia Kensington looked like she would explode, but Gabriel saw only Felicity. She’d supported him over her mother. That took fortitude, the kind needed on the Selection Committee.

“Felicity,” Eugenia hissed, “this is already decided.” She grabbed her daughter’s hand, and Felicity’s confidence began to crumble.

Gabriel had to save her. “Your daughter is on the Selection Committee.”

Eugenia Kensington went dead white.

“No,” she gasped. “Branford.” Her knees wobbled, and her husband rushed to support her.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Kensington blustered as he held his wife. “The pastor here has named me to the committee, too.”

“That’s not—” Gabriel began, but Kensington was already leading this wife away.

“How could you?” Felicity cried, fists balled. “Put Daddy on the committee? I thought you had better sense.”

“But I didn’t put him on it,” he said to no one, for
Felicity had stormed out of the church before he could get the words out.

In five short minutes, the Kensingtons had steamrolled him yet again.

B
y the time June faded into July, Felicity’s plan had acquired so many holes that she needed to rethink the situation. Art school was Mother’s dream, not hers. Felicity would never break free of her there. Marriage wasn’t the answer, but Robert appeared beyond reform, and she did not want to wait until marriage to discover he would not change. Eliminating him as a suitor left her with no prospects.

Gabriel had turned out to be just as fickle. How could he ask Daddy to be on the Selection Committee? He must know that would destroy any chance of spending time with her. Then again, perhaps that was his plan. Perhaps he was seeing someone, someone like Anna Simmons. At seventeen, Anna was awfully young, but Gabriel might like younger women. He had leaped to buy her picnic basket.

Felicity worried about it when she went to bed and resumed fretting when she awoke. Could it be? She considered every possible candidate in town and was able to dismiss most but not all. She listened to the gossips at the post office and in the mercantile, but no one said a word about Gabriel. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and went directly to the source.

“Is your brother seeing anyone?” she asked Mariah one afternoon while helping her make strawberry jam.

Mariah laughed. “Gabe? He doesn’t know a good prospect when it bites him on the nose.” She handed the filled lightning jar to Felicity, who cleaned the rim and clamped down the glass lid.

The kitchen was steamy hot, and Felicity had to constantly wipe her face on her apron to keep the perspiration from running into her eyes.

“What about Anna Simmons?” she whispered.

Mariah moved the bubbling preserves off the hottest part of the stove. “What about her?”

“They seemed to get along on Founder’s Day.”

“She’s a bit young, don’t you think?” Mariah filled another jar.

Perhaps Felicity was being overly concerned. Anna was a good seven or eight years younger than Gabriel. She wiped off the jar’s rim.

“In my estimation, Anna’s more like a little sister,” Mariah said. “The woman who sets her eye on my brother will have to work hard to catch him. He spends too much time thinking and not enough time noticing what’s around him, if you know what I mean.”

Her coy little smile told Felicity all she needed to know. To attract Gabriel, Felicity must engage his intellect on a topic that dearly interested him. She could think of just one.

The rest of that week, Felicity lived at the library, reading everything she could about orphanages and adoption. She learned about Charles Loring Brace’s Children’s Aid Society, which sent orphans west by train. Some praised the system, but others scorned it. Was this criticism what Gabriel’s friend faced? Is that what darkened Gabriel’s expression?

By the morning of the first Selection Committee meeting, Felicity was ready with questions. She bit her lip as
she checked her ivory linen suit in the mirror. Navy piping accented the short jacket and fostered the illusion of crisp freshness.

Alas, the moment she stepped outside, perspiration beaded on her forehead, and the linen wilted. Not one leaf stirred in the stifling air. She fanned herself to no avail.

Smithson stood at the car holding the passenger door open, but Daddy was nowhere to be seen. “Mr. Kensington has an urgent meeting this morning and will not be able to attend.”

“Are you certain?” It wasn’t like Daddy to miss an obligation.

Smithson raised an eyebrow as he closed the door. “Yes, Ms. Kensington.”

What could be so urgent that Daddy would miss this important meeting? She gnawed her lower lip as Smithson nudged the car down the street. Daddy and Gabriel didn’t like each other, but they were civil. Besides, Daddy didn’t let squabbles stand in the way of business. There must be something wrong.

The town looked normal. People hurried from shop to shop on their daily errands. Motor trucks made their usual deliveries. No one looked anxious or upset, only hot.

The car glided to a stop before the church, and Felicity went inside. The church interior felt gloriously cool. Morning sun filtered through the oaks and maples before streaming through the plate glass window to dapple the floors and walls. She’d miss those rays of sunlight dancing with dust motes. As a child, she’d believed they were God’s fingers. The stained glass would cut them off.

She held her hand in the light.
Give me strength, Lord, to make the right decisions.

Reassured, she turned to the church office. A warm light flooded from the open door. She paused outside, nerves
heightened. A low murmur of masculine voices came from inside.

She took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in,” Gabriel said.

Felicity pushed open the door and saw Gabriel with a Puritanical elder sporting a closely trimmed white beard. The man’s saintly face crinkled into a smile the minute he saw her.

“I’m Mr. Isaacs. You must be Ms. Kensington.” His warm greeting belied the somber attire. “Your pastor has told me all about you.”

Her pastor. She glanced at Gabriel. “I hope it was favorable.”

“Nothing but good,” Mr. Isaacs said. “You’re just as lovely as he said you were.”

Heat crept up her cheeks to match Gabriel’s color. He pretended to examine papers, but she’d seen the expression on his face when she entered. He was glad to see her.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Where is your father, Ms. Kensington?”

She straightened her skirt and tugged off her gloves. “He left word that he has an urgent meeting this morning and can’t attend.”

Gabriel scowled and rubbed his temple. “This is the most important meeting of the project. He knew that. I don’t see what could be more urgent than finding good homes for orphaned children.”

“It’s all right, Gabriel,” said Mr. Isaacs with a calm, soothing voice. “I’m sure Ms. Kensington can pass along the instructions to her father.”

Though the scowl didn’t leave Gabriel’s face, he bowed to Mr. Isaacs’s wishes. The next two hours involved going over the rules for approving and disqualifying applicants. Felicity struggled to concentrate on what Mr. Isaacs said,
but it was so difficult with Gabriel sitting beside her. She marveled at his strong, steady script as he took notes. Most men scribbled. His words flowed, beautifully readable. Ink stained the tip of his index finger and the first joint of his middle finger, but his nails were clean and trimmed. Attention to the right details mattered in a man.

“A strong Christian household is most important,” said Mr. Isaacs, “but we do want to take into account their family life. We prefer to place the children with families that have two parents and children around the same age. Education is important, of course. The child must attend school, Sunday school and Sunday worship.”

Felicity nodded when Isaacs looked at her for confirmation, but she barely heard what he said—something about Christian education.

“The children are to share the same food as the family and work the same chores as the family’s own children.”

“Must a foster family already have children,” Felicity asked, “or do we consider childless couples?”

“That is the committee’s decision. If you feel the couple meets all other qualifications, then you may approve their application.”

A child. Felicity had never thought about children, but as she sat next to Gabriel, she couldn’t help wondering what that would be like. Any child of hers would not endure the long, lonely days she’d spent. She’d have many children, like Gabriel’s family, bustling with activity. For the tiniest moment, she imagined being married to Gabriel with a houseful of children. Mariah would visit, of course, and they’d go on grand picnics and adventures.

Mr. Isaacs coughed, and she pulled her attention back to the business at hand.

“Though the foster family will receive a small stipend for the child’s care,” Isaacs said, “the bulk of the cost is borne by
the family. They need to understand this upfront. Any report of neglect or abuse will bring the immediate removal of the child. You can prevent that tragedy by carefully screening the applicants. Do you have any questions?”

Felicity spilled hers all at once.

Gabriel smiled softly. “One at a time, Felic—uh, Ms. Kensington.”

Mr. Isaacs chuckled. “That’s quite all right, Gabriel. I appreciate an eager committee member.”

After all her questions had been answered, Mr. Isaacs moved on to the itinerary. “It’s best to complete the application process before the children arrive. Try to approve at least five suitable applicants, preferably more. Every child longs to be chosen. They’ll be eager and nervous. Our agents will do their best to keep the children calm, but you can help by offering a warm and encouraging atmosphere and ensuring each child is matched.”

“We can do that,” said Gabriel.

Felicity closed her eyes and drank in his warm baritone. She wouldn’t mind hearing that every day, waking up to his smile and falling asleep in his arms.

“The children will arrive on the afternoon train on Wednesday the fourteenth,” Mr. Isaacs said.

“Of this month?” Gabriel was clearly surprised. “That’s only a little over a week away.”

“I’m confident you can have everything in place, Gabe.”

Felicity started at the familiar appellation. Only Mariah used that nickname. Gabriel must know Mr. Isaacs very well.

“They will come to the church first,” Mr. Isaacs said, “so the town can see them. A short hymn-sing would be perfect.”

Felicity imagined arriving in a strange town and having everyone examine her like a cow on the auction block or a picnic basket on Founder’s Day. The best and prettiest would
get picked, but what about the rest? It would be worse than being the last one picked for a schoolyard baseball game.

“Won’t they be self-conscious?” she asked.

“It is difficult,” Mr. Isaacs conceded, “but you can ease their discomfort by meeting them at the train and giving them a little time alone before going to the church. After the service, the children will be brought to the boardinghouse for supper and to wash up for bed. Two agents will be with them at all times.”

“Agents?” she asked.

“Representatives of the Orphaned Children’s Society,” Gabriel answered, lightly squeezing her hand. “They help the children through the process.”

Felicity barely heard his words. She stared at her hand. He’d touched her in public. It was practically an announcement that he cared. Though she felt the dots of heat in her cheeks, Mr. Isaacs didn’t seem to notice.

“Pastor Gabriel is right,” said Isaacs. “You can make this the best experience in these children’s lives with the proper preparation. If you allow the applicants to note preferences, do so after the children have left the room. The next day, distribution day, will go much easier for the children if the committee has already decided which families get each child. The children will arrive at the church at ten sharp for the distribution. I can’t stress enough the responsibility you hold.”

Felicity felt it coiled like a spring inside her, but with Gabriel’s help they’d ensure the best homes for these children.

“I understand,” she whispered.

Mr. Isaacs nodded. “You will need to have each applicant complete the following paperwork.” He then outlined the forms to be filled out and the oath to be taken.

By the time they finished, her head spun and not only from the hundred procedures to be followed. She’d be working with Gabriel, making important decisions together.

What’s more, he valued her opinion. She was glad Daddy had gone to another meeting that day.

Isaacs gathered his papers, and Gabriel rose. “Would you care to lunch at the parsonage, Mr. Isaacs? It’s only roast chicken, but we have plenty.”

Felicity longed to join them, but Gabriel hadn’t invited her. She lingered, hoping he would.

Isaacs slid the papers into his valise. “Tempting as that is, I’m exhausted from the travel and am looking forward to Mrs. Terchie’s perogies and a long nap.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced at her. “You two enjoy the meal.”

Felicity’s cheeks burned. Was her attraction to Gabriel that obvious? She felt him stiffen beside her, but he didn’t dispute Mr. Isaacs’s suggestion.

“And if you change your mind, Gabriel, our door is always open.” The men shook hands.

Felicity wondered what Mr. Isaacs meant. What door? Change his mind about what?

After goodbyes were said and Mr. Isaacs headed to the boardinghouse, Gabriel and Felicity strolled toward Elm Street.

“Whew, it’s hot.” He mopped his forehead. “No wonder Mr. Isaacs didn’t want to eat roast chicken in the parsonage.”

“Don’t you have a fan?” Felicity thought the church supplied all modern comforts for its minister.

“It’s not working.”

“You should speak to Mr. Grattan. He heads the trustees. They’ll get it fixed.”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, peeling off his dark jacket.

They walked in silence for a while. Gabriel seemed deep in thought, his brow furrowed.

Felicity couldn’t bear to see him without a smile. Maybe asking about home would help. “How long have you and Mr. Isaacs known each other?”

“We met when I was a boy. Even though he’s forty years older than I am, we became friends at once.”

The young Gabriel had met the director of an orphan placement service as a boy? Was he an orphan? But Mariah looked so much like him. Unless they were orphaned siblings. It happened. Was it possible? The question bobbed on her lips until it finally burst out.

“Were you…that is, how did you meet?”

Gabriel barely glanced at her, lost in the past. “My parents believe in helping the less fortunate. From an early age, all of us went into the tenements to help. Sometimes we cleaned. Sometimes we sat with the sick. Sometimes I helped my brothers fix things.”

Felicity wondered at his words. His family could not have been as poor as she’d believed if they could reach out to others.

He smiled at a memory. “I wasn’t always a very good worker. Once I saw a stray tomcat along the way. He was a filthy thing, all matted and torn from battle. He probably didn’t want to be saved, but I was intent on rescuing him. I got separated from my brothers, and by the time I caught up to the tom, I was lost. Luckily, Mr. Isaacs found me. He brought me to the orphanage until my parents could fetch me. I loved it there. Once upon a time, I thought that was my life’s mission.”