A Most Unsuitable Match Read Online Free

intuition—or whatever it was that enabled the girl to see more than most of their sighted friends did when it came to people’s true feelings.
    Minette squeezed her hand. “I gather it’s something you don’t want everyone to know, or you wouldn’t have led me to the swing behind the gazebo. So . . . unless someone’s lurking nearby who might overhear . . . tell me.”
    Fannie glanced about them. “There’s no one,” she said, forcing a smile she hoped Minette would hear. “Unless we have to worry about Jake. But he’s asleep at the moment, curled up over there under the serviceberry tree. In fact, a white blossom just landed on his ear . . . and he flicked it off. And now,” she said with a chuckle, “he’s on his back, all four legs splayed in different directions.”
    Minette giggled. “Not very dignified for a watchdog, is he?”
    “Calling Jake a watchdog is like calling me an heiress.” Fannie gave a little squeeze and let go of her friend’s hand.
    “Uh-oh.” Minette frowned and turned Fannie’s way.
    It was unsettling to know those lovely hazel eyes couldn’t actually see what they were pointed at. “Uh-oh what?” Fannie shifted on the swing and then gave a little shove with one boot to get the two of them in motion.
    “Uh-oh you’re considering not telling me everything.” Minette tugged on Fannie’s sleeve. “When you take away your hand, it removes one of the ways I read your mind. That’s not playing nice. How can I give good advice if you aren’t going to tell me everything?”
    “I didn’t know they taught you mind reading at that school.”
    Minette reached up to sweep her dark curls back off her shoulder as she tossed her head. “You know they didn’t. They did, however, teach me to be aware of tension. And when your fingers start to curl or your palms sweat, I know something’s up. So tell me what’s troubling you.”
    “Besides everything, you mean?”
    “Define the part of everything I don’t already know about.” Minette frowned and pretended to glare at Fannie as she said, “Now.”
    Fannie sighed. She began with the awkward moment when she put the rosebushes on her account at Haversham’s. “You’d think they were afraid they weren’t going to get paid!” She sighed. “But that’s only part of it. I don’t know when it all started, but the house is threatening to fall down around me. Peeling paint, weedy gardens, rusted gates. Hannah says Walker’s too old to keep up. She says I need to hire someone to help him. And the truth is, the grounds are only the beginning. Hannah isn’t really keeping up inside, either.” She leaned close and muttered, “Today I noticed cobwebs in the corners in Papa’s office.”
    “Cobwebs?!” Minette gasped in mock horror. “Oh no! Whatever will you do? It’s a travesty! A tragedy of outrageous proportions!”
    Fannie laughed in spite of herself. “All right, all right. Granted, cobwebs aren’t the end of the world. But they are a symbol of the general decline of all things Rousseau.” She recounted going through the pile of mail on Papa’s desk. “I looked up some of those shipping and business terms in the dictionary.”
    “And?”
    Fannie shrugged. “Problems. Serious ones. The thing is, knowing what the words mean doesn’t solve anything. I need to know what to do .” She rushed ahead before Minette could speak. “And before you say, ‘That’s why you have Mr. Vandekamp,’ I should tell you Mr. Vandekamp has been hinting at all of this for a while now. I just haven’t been paying attention, mostly because of the solution he’s suggesting.”
    “Which is?”
    “A certain eligible bachelor with the initials P.H.”
    Minette frowned, then her arched eyebrows shot up. “You wouldn’t! You can’t!”
    “I won’t.” Fannie sighed. “But all I seem to know lately is what I don’t want. I haven’t any idea what I do.” She glanced at Minette. “Why can’t I be more like you? You and