CHAPTER FOUR

Once Felicity had turned fifteen, she was of age to begin courting. The spring and summer was a flurry of dances and parties. At first the idea of attending dances and parties excited her, but she soon found out that she was in competition for a husband, in a room filled with pretty ladies. The one perk about being of age meant a new wardrobe finally.

"I am not going to have my eldest daughter presented to society in substandard, antiquated, clothing," Mrs. Merriman declared. So herself, Felicity, Rose, set to making Felicity a new work gown, two day gowns suitable for tea, or working in the store, a new Sunday gown with a new stomacher so it could also function for parties, a lightweight summer day gown, and the crème de le crème would be her new ball gown, the one she would wear to the Merriweather's Grand Christmas Ball. As usual, Felicity didn't take too much interest in her clothing. She only had three requests. She wanted her Christmas Ball Gown to be dark green, because she thought it would compliment her hair, and bring out the green of her eyes. She didn't want anymore pink gowns, pink looked awful with her hair, and made her fair skin look pinkish, and she wanted no gowns that resembled or matched a gown of Nan's.

Felicity did get asked to dance, but the conversations she wound up in usually were awful, and uninteresting. Elizabeth was so lucky to have Joseph take interest in her. He had asked the permission of her father to court, so far no one had asked to court Felicity. As usual as soon as Felicity arrived home from the dances, tired, and discouraged because the men of Williamsburg were petty, boring, pigs Nan would be right on her.

"Finally find a suitor miss I'm the pretty one?" She would ask viciously taking much pleasure from it.

"What are you?" Felicity demanded as she slipped off her peach brocade dancing slippers, which inevitably pinched her toes. "The courting police?"

"No," Nan answered sweetly. "Just making sure my dear sister doesn't turn into an old maid."

Felicity eventually did get her first suitor, much to her chagrin. She was at a simple church sponsored dance that October, on a warm autumn night.

Theodore Plutt was the butcher's son, and he thought that Felicity Merriman was not only the prettiest girl in Williamsburg, but in the entire world. But a clumsy, curpulent, stout, butcher's son, could never win the affections of a girl like that. Somehow he had gathered the courage to ask her to dance, and he was relieved to find out that she wasn't that great a dancer. She was graceful, but she had a tendency to step on his toes, or mix up her steps. Immediately he felt much more confident around a pretty lady. She had also told him that he wasn't that bad a dancer. Felicity began to regret making the comment. She wouldn't have except she kept getting nervous and mixing up her own steps. Now at every party Theodore loomed around her, and she was worried that other suitors would figure that she was his girl. Theodore was nice, but he was also a blundering idiot.

At the autumn dance Felicity was sitting listening to Theodore go on one of his tirades about meat. She was almost to the point where she never wanted to eat meat again, after he told her what exactly went on in the slaughterhouse.

"What is wrong Felicity?" Theodore asked. "You are unusually quiet this evening/" Felicity looked at his round, red, sticky, face.

I am quiet because I have nothing more to say on the subject of meat. Felicity wanted to say.

"I am just a bit thirsty is all," she said hoping to get rid of him for a moment.

"Would you like me to get you some punch?" Theodore asked.

"Yes please," Felicity answered. As soon as he left Felicity caught the eye of another tall, young, man with black hair pulled back into a queue. Felicity had seen him at a few parties and had confided in Elizabeth that she thought he was very handsome. Elizabeth had told her that his name was Michael, was wealthy, and had seven brothers One had briefly courted Annabelle. Felicity tried not to act too relieved that he came over to her.

"Good evening miss," he said and nodded. Felicity smiled and nodded back. Her smile must have done something, for he stayed to introduce himself.

"I am Michael Howell," he said. "I have not seen you around. What is your name?"

"Felicity Merriman," Felicity said in her most ladylike voice.

"Merriman?" Michael asked, a disgusted look on his face. "Like in the store?"

"Why yes, my father owns the store," she answered. "You know it?"

"Yes," Michael grunted. "I bought some bad coffee there." And with that he strutted away. Felicity was seething. Oh how she wished that ladies could fight. She'd take him to the tavern down the street and let him have it.

"Felicity!" It was Theodore coming back with the punch. "I just got a wonderful idea!"

""Does it concern meat?" Felicity asked annoyed.

"Why no," Theodore replied. "I really am fond of you Felicity, and I want to ask your father for permission to court."

"What," Felicity mumbled. "I lost you back when you said you had a wonderful idea."

"Oh," Theodore replied. He grabbed his handkerchief and dabbed sweat off his forehead. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I asked your father for permission to court you."

"Court?" Felicity asked.

"I want to get to know you better Felicity, I like you," Theodore rambled. Felicity stared at Elizabeth and Joseph, who were gaily engaged in conversation across the room. She looked over at Michael laughing at some ridiculous thing with a pack of men.

"Yes," Felicity said distantly.

"I can ask?" Theodore exclaimed.

"Yes," she answered again.

Later that night when Nan cross-examined her, Felicity neglected to tell her about Theodore. As she got into bed that night for the first time in six months she wondered what would it be like if Benjamin Davidson had stayed in town.