Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom by Sara M. Barton Read Free Book Online

relegated to the opposite corner of the table, where she
engaged in conversation with the Johnsons about the art of fly
fishing. I suspected it was her way of trying to capture Dr. Van
Zandt’s attention, but it seemed to go nowhere. By half past eight,
the last platter of eggs was passed and all were satiated. With a
final round of coffees poured, I cleared their plates while they
chatted.
    “Well,” said the man
with the bald pate, exuding the charisma of Sean Connery as his
female admirers hung on his every word. “We should probably get
going.”
    “Oh?” Florence’s head
shot up. “Where are you heading?”
    “To church,” said Dr.
Van Zandt.
    “Can I get a lift with
you?” Florence didn’t even bother to wait for the answer. She
dabbed her lips with her napkin before she placed it on the table.
“I’ll just go and get my pocketbook”
    One look at my mother’s
face spoke volumes. I heaved a great sigh at the thought she would
be so disappointed on what was one of the first dates since my
father died. And then I got a brilliant idea.
    “Lacey, I have a
hankering to go to church today. Care to join me?”
    “As a matter of fact,
Scarlet, I think I do. Say, why don’t you two go along? Florence
can ride with us.”
    “Yes,” I agreed,
herding them towards the hallway as Lacey scooted away to intercept
the persistent Ms. Vinson, “you go on ahead. We’ll catch
up.”
    “Do you want us to save
you seats in the same pew?”
    “No, no, no.” I shook
my head. “Don’t worry about us. Just go enjoy
yourselves.”
    The front door had no
sooner closed behind the pair when Florence began her descent down
the grand staircase.
    “Did they just leave
without me?” The scowling face and quickened pace confirmed our
worst fears. She had the hots for Thaddeus.
    “ Not
to worry. We’ll give you a ride. I just have to grab my purse. I
won’t be a moment.”
    “You’re going too?” she
demanded, her voice brittle.
     

Chapter Five --
     
    “Yes. So is Lacey.” If
looks could kill, I’d have a dagger stuck in my chest and a chalk
outline around my limp body. For that reason, I announced the news
with a cheerful smile. “Surely you don’t mind. After all, the
important thing is to be there for the church service. Reverend
Hoskins is wonderful.”
    I kept up the vacuous
chitchat until I saw the physician’s silver sedan roll down the
driveway and turn into the street. A moment later, it was out of
sight.
    “I won’t be long,” I
promised, hurrying up the staircase and onto the landing. I took a
moment to pop into my mother’s room and make her bed before moving
on to the third floor staircase. In my own suite, I fluffed the
sofa cushions in my sitting area where Scrub Oak, the cat, was
having a bath. I gave him an affectionate tickle behind the ears. I
made my own bed, threw a brush through my long locks, and then
stopped long enough to wind my hair into a French braid, which I
pinned up, all the time aware of the minutes ticking away. If I
played my cards right, by the time we got to the East Street
Congregational Church, the only seats left would be in the back of
the church.
    “Okay, Scrubby. It’s
time for you to head downstairs.” I scooped the cat up under my arm
and off we went.
    Florence Vinson was
practically apoplectic in the vestibule by the time my left foot
hit the bottom step. “We’re going to miss the
service!”
    “Oh, heavens! What time
is it?” I replied, digging through my purse. “Let me just find my
keys.”
    Scrub Oak left us to
join the dogs in the living room while I pretended to search
through my purse for the keys that I knew were already in my
pocket. Florence’s apparent distress reeked of desperation and
dismay. How could a woman, who had only arrived at the Four Acorns
Inn a day ago, have formed such a strong attachment to Dr. Van
Zandt? It bordered on the absurd.
    That question went
unanswered on the drive. Florence huffed and puffed in the back
seat,