Karen Whittenburg - The Matchmaker's Apprentice

But she hadn’t.

The silence stretched and Ainsley finally forced her eyes up to meet Ilsa’s, made herself look for the censure she was sure she’d find.

Ilsa’s expression reflected only a thoughtful curiosity.

“You warned me to be cautious,” Ainsley said. “You told me to learn the basics, to be patient. But I completely ignored your advice because I was so certain Scott and Shelby would hit it off…and now it’s all a big mess. Scott is devastated. The whole Danville family is in an uproar. Uncle Edward has declared Molly will never be welcome in his home, so even when—if—she comes back, Scott won’t be able to forgive her without upsetting everyone all over again. It’s an awful situation and it’s all my fault.”

Ilsa, a master at interpreting even the slightest slip of the tongue, sat quietly for a moment. “Do you know why Molly ran away from her wedding, Ainsley?”

Time to face the consequences and divulge the worst truth of all. “She ran away because I said she was the wrong match for Scott.”

Ilsa blinked. “You said that to her?”

“Not those exact words.” Ainsley felt sick with regret. “And I said it to everyone present at the time, not directly to her.”

“When did this happen?”

“At the wedding rehearsal Friday night.”

“You told a couple, in front of their family and friends, and on the day before their wedding, that you considered their match a mistake?” Now there was astonishment in her voice, a startled surprise, a hint of dismay even her refinement couldn’t disguise. “Why would you do that, Ainsley?”

“I didn’t mean to. I tried to finesse my way out of the question, but Scott wouldn’t let it go. He wanted to tell everyone I was responsible for matching him up with Molly…as if I’d want people to know I’d put together such a mismatch. I reminded him that he’d promised to keep my secret. That he’d sworn he’d never reveal my part in the setup, not even to the woman I’d matched him with. But at the rehearsal, he was like a little kid, so excited and emotional and wanting everyone to understand how happy he was. There was a lot of champagne flowing, which didn’t help matters, and suddenly, he stood up and told the entire gathering he and Molly owed their happiness all to me and that they were going to name their first child after me.

“Needless to say, it was an awkward moment and before I realized how it would sound, I blurted out that if I’d had anything to do with it, he’d be marrying Shelby Stewart, not Molly.” Ainsley winced at the memory. “The minute I saw the look on Molly’s face, I knew she realized I’d never intended for her to meet Scott, that I’d meant him to meet Shelby instead, no matter what he believed.”

“Scott told her you’d set up that initial meeting at the restaurant?”

“Probably the first words out of his mouth.” Ainsley shifted in the chair. “He’s even worse at discretion than I am.”

“Perhaps it would have been better if you’d kept your own counsel,” Ilsa said, her smile unexpectedly gentle. “But Ainsley, I don’t see how you can take the blame for everything that happened. Your only true mistake was in concluding the outcome of your introduction of possibilities was the wrong one.”

“Please don’t try to make me feel better, Ilsa. Scott and Molly aren’t simply a bad match. They’re totally wrong for each other.”

“You seem so certain about that.”

“If you spent five minutes with my cousin, you’d be certain, too.”

Ilsa considered that, as she checked her watch. “You’ll discover, Ainsley, if you continue your apprenticeship, that an introduction of possibilities is fraught with…well, with possibilities.”

“Is one of those possibilities my unemployment?”

“What?”

“Are you going to fire me?”

“Of course not.”

“But I did the very thing you asked me not to do, the one thing you cautioned me about.”

“You’re guilty of trying to predict the future, Ainsley. That’s hardly the crime you’re trying to make it out to be. We all do it from time to time. Unsuccessfully, for the most part.”

“You wouldn’t have made this kind of mistake. You know you wouldn’t have.”

“I’ve made my share of mistakes, Ainsley. I still make them. Look at Peter and Thea Braddock. I was certain my intuition was leading me astray with them. While it worked out to be a true love match in the end, I’m still convinced that my part in it was misguided at best.”

“They’re perfect together.” Ainsley couldn’t believe Ilsa had any lingering doubts about the match. “Besides, I felt the same connection between them that you did. I encouraged you to put them together and, as they say, ‘all’s well that ends well.”’

“We did close the Braddock files rather successfully, didn’t we?” Ilsa’s slow smile hinted at the depth of her own successful romance with James Braddock, the father of Peter, Bryce and Adam. Ilsa had made matches for all three of James’s sons the previous year. Now she was rediscovering a happiness she hadn’t known was possible. Ilsa hadn’t married James as yet, but Ainsley thought it wouldn’t be long. And Ainsley herself deserved some credit for that romance, since she’d personally encouraged, prodded and pressed Ilsa to give James a chance.

“Maybe you would have set up the possibilities differently for Thea and Peter if you had it to do over again,” Ainsley said. “But the result is still a love match. Thea and Peter will only be happier together as time goes on. That wouldn’t have happened for Scott and Molly. They’re too much alike.”

“Many wonderful marriages are built on similarities and shared interests, Ainsley. Having a great deal in common is usually an asset in a relationship. Look at your parents. They’re a perfect example.”

Ainsley’s parents were the perfect example of having so much in common there wasn’t room for anything else, but of course, she couldn’t say that. Not to Ilsa. Not to anyone. “If Mom and Dad weren’t so totally dedicated to their work for The Danville Foundation, I’m not sure they’d have anything at all to talk about.”

Ilsa laughed. “Four wonderful children might warrant an occasional conversation.”

Ainsley wasn’t sure her parents realized they had children. They’d been gone nine or ten months out of every twelve for as long as she could remember. There could be no argument that The Danville Foundation dealt in noble causes or that its work was necessary and courageous. No one would ever accuse Charles and Linney Danville of being selfish, or of putting anything—not even their own family—above their commitment to their calling. For all practical purposes, their life’s work had required that Matt, Miranda, Andrew and Ainsley be orphans so that less fortunate children in other parts of the world could be saved from hunger, disease and disasters.

But as she’d always done, Ainsley shook off the feeling she’d been cheated somehow in the parenting sweepstakes. It was an unworthy thought and made her feel heartily ashamed of herself every time it bobbed to the surface. She returned her attention to Ilsa. “If my parents ever had a difference of opinion about anything, it probably would make headline news around the world. They even finish each other’s sentences.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing. I imagine Charles and Linney have had to depend on each other much more than most couples because of the nature of their work and the dangerous situations they’re often faced with. For them, having that innate understanding of each other could very well be a matter of survival.”

“I didn’t mean it in a negative way,” Ainsley said, hastily covering her tracks. “I’m just saying that if one of my parents had come to you as a client, you’d never have put them together as a couple.” She didn’t believe her parents would have married in the first place, much less stayed married for thirty-five years, if not for their absorption in, and dedication to, their humanitarian work. But she’d only voiced that opinion once, a long time ago, when she’d announced to her siblings her belief that Charles and Linney did not belong together. To say Matt and Miranda had given her a serious scold was putting it mildly. “You’d have chosen someone very different for both of them. You know you would have, Ilsa. I know you would have.”