gravely voice. “What in the blazes have you gone and done now, woman?”
Doris smiled tentatively, chagrin written all over her face. “I’ve gotten into a little bit of a muddle, but I do believe Pastor Kinsley will help us out.”
“I will?” Nicolas glanced between us, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “How so?”
“The providence of the Lord will reveal all in good time.” Doris clutched her husband’s arm. “Now, let’s eat. We shouldn’t keep Celia standing so long. It’s terrible for her circulation.”
I met Nicolas’s gaze, my heart skipping a beat or two. He said nothing, his eyes roaming over my face. Then he guided me towards the dining room, where a smart set of people had gathered dressed in silks and satins, the women in elaborate headgear and the men just as well heeled.
Everyone seemed to turn to watch us, all talking ceasing. I swallowed my nervousness, feeling entirely out of place.
Chapter 6
I ordered curried fish over rice with vegetables, while Mr. and Mrs. Hershey had the Roast Grouse. Pastor Kinsley ordered the Chicken a la Cream. Once everything had been delivered, I gazed in wonder at the artfully arranged dishes. Relaxed and assured, Nicolas drank wine, while Mr. and Mrs. Hershey had lemonade, although the waiter had brought over a bottle of red, which Mr. Hershey said he would sample shortly.
“So, what are your plans, my dear?” asked Mr. Hershey. “How do you intend to remedy this disaster?”
“I think it’s premature to call it a disaster, Ralph. We mustn’t think so negatively.”
“I’m a pragmatist at heart. I’ve seen more than enough destitute women in the streets of this town to know where this is going.”
“Not if I can help it.” She cut into a piece of meat vigorously. “I will not admit defeat before the battle has begun. I’m collecting a list of eligible bachelors as we speak, and I plan to arrange meetings soon enough. There are socials during the week and church functions after the service on Sunday. There are plenty of opportunities for men and women to meet.”
“Good thinking,” said Nicolas. “Although the pickings are rather slim. Who would you put at the top of the list, Doris?”
“I would … consider Harvey Wood. He’s a fine man with a—”
“That you say!” chortled Mr. Hershey, his belly heaving as he laughed. “Harvey Wood? There’s a reason his wife left him. I don’t think you want to expose Mrs. Wellington that sort of trouble.”
Mrs. Hershey’s mouth hung open. “Whatever do you mean? He has a fine job working at the post office, and I can’t see any reason why he wouldn’t be suitable for Celia. Is there something I need to know about his character? If there is, please speak up.” The men at the table remained mute, Nicolas stabbing at a carrot with a fork. Mr. Hershey reached for a glass. “Cowards. I suppose I’ll have to cross him off the list then, but I still maintain he’s perfect for Celia.” She glanced at Nicolas. “What objection do you have to Mr. Wood?”
“None.”
“That’s a lie. I can tell from your expression that you’re hiding something.” Her tone held hints of chastisement, but she wasn’t really angry. “For shame. You people are absolutely no help.”
“I hate to be blunt, my dear,” said Mr. Hershey. “But Mrs. Wellington’s condition will be a rather large hindrance in procuring a husband. I’m sorry to have to put it out there in such a manner, but there it is.” He glanced at me. “No offense, young lady. I’m sure you’re a marvelous person, but you do come encumbered, and most men don’t wish for such a thing.”
“I know.”
“Let’s speak about something nice,” said Nicolas. “Doesn’t Mrs. Wellington’s skin glow in the candlelight? When I first met you, I could’ve sworn you’d been baking in the sun for years. All it took was soap and water to reveal that lovely complexion.”
This declaration caught Mrs. Hershey’s attention, her
Learning to Kill: Stories