Free Six Little Sunflowers: Historical Romance Novella (American State Flower) by Gina Welborn

cheeks ballooned with air, then slowly deflated with a pfffft .
    “Now you are being childish.”
    He leaned forward, smiled a little. “And you aren’t?”
    In that moment, she realized how close his face was to hers. His eyes—they’d never seemed so green, so intense. He just stood there studying her. She almost believed he liked what he saw.
    “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
    His grin broadened. “You’re awfully cute when you’re in a dither.”
    Ignoring the warmth in her cheeks, Félicie pointed to Mrs. Grbic’s house. “Go back right now and tell them we are not getting married.”
    He crossed his arms. “To the winner go the spoils.”
    “In light of these circumstances, that makes no sense.”
    “To insufferable people it does.”
    With a shake of her head, Félicie continued on to the trolley. For Carpenter Yeary’s well-being, she needed to walk away before she did something—something outlandish. Something not nice. Something horrible people did. Something involving ink and frogs and custard. Something—
    Oh, why was she even pondering what she would do?
    All that mattered was that Carpenter Yeary was underestimating her ability to make his life miserable.
    He’s the dandiest man.
    Ha! Pearl clearly had him confused with someone else.

Chapter 8
     
    Any man who can begin to elicit any woman’s love can perfectly infatuate her more and more, solely by courting her right; and all women who once start a man’s love—no very difficult achievement—can get out of him, and do with him, anything possible she pleases. The charming and fascinating power of serpents over birds is as nothing compared with that a woman can wield over a man, and he over her.
    ~Social Life; or The Manners and Customs of Polite Society
     
     
    Tuesday evening – May 26 th
    Madame Helaine Laurent’s House of Design
     
    “H OW ENJOYABLE CAN AN ENGAGEMENT BALL BE”— Félicie gasped a breath as Mama Helaine fastened the back of the green-beaded ballgown—“when it takes this much effort to dress for it? I much prefer being the help.”
    “Hush, he will hear you,” warned Mama Helaine.
    Félicie looked over her shoulder to the woman who (once she heard a wedding committee had been organized) had announced to Mrs. Grbic’s circle of friends that she would be making Félicie’s ballgown and wedding dress, as a gift to the happy couple. That had led to Mrs. Topping making the motion that they accept the offering, and Mrs. Lester seconding, and all saying aye. Wedding plans should not be made by parliamentary procedure. Every day Carpenter refused to break off the engagement meant one day closer to them reciting wedding vows.
    She sighed. “Carpenter would have to be standing on the other side of the velvet curtains to hear us. Besides, Rena is out there. You can bet she’s talking to him.”
    Mama Helaine smoothed the sides of Félicie’s dress then swiveled her around. She smiled. “He will find no fault with this one.”
    “He had better because this one is Rena’s.”
    Mama Helaine responded with a tsk, tsk, tsk.
    Félicie eyed the wardrobe of ballgowns she had spent the last two hours modeling for Carpenter because she’d insisted he choose the one she wore for their engagement ball hosted by his “parental” half of the circle of friends. Any other man would have said “this one” after the first dress. Certainly after the second one. Having missed dinner because she’d dragged him to Mama Helaine’s right after she finished her day’s work, he had to be hungry and irritable and one degree closer to breaking their engagement. But here they were on her fourteenth gown, and the words “this one” had yet to cross his lips. Carpenter Yeary was a stubborn, obstinate, pig-headed man who refused to do the right thing and call off marrying her. He frustrated her to no end. None of her insufferableness seemed to push him over the edge, which was becoming all the more difficult because