Indigo

  Hester could not deny the happiness that filled her heart. He had indeed made her wishes come true, but she could not accept such a costly gift no matter how beautiful. It was far more elegant than anything she'd ever owned and the handwork was magnificent. There would be no stares of pity were she to wear this gown. No one would point her out as the woman Foster threw over; everyone's eyes would pop. Hester's aging wardrobe had figured in her decision to stay at home, but now lord knew she wanted to wear the dress if only to rock Foster back on his heels and show him once and for all that she was indeed a desirable woman. She also wanted to wear it for Galen, to show him that she did appreciate his gifts, but deep inside she was afraid of where it might lead. She was afraid she would be drawn in even further by his immeasurable charms, thus making it even more difficult on herself when he returned to his world.

  She debated with herself for the rest of the day and into the evening. By the time she sought her bed, she'd made up her mind. Galen had given her a gown dreams were made of; she'd be a fool to not wear it at least once. If the gossips were going to whisper, let them have something substantial to say. And as for her fear, she told herself that during her years on the Road she'd faced numerous real dangers: slave catchers, dogs; being afraid of her feelings was silly. She was a full-grown woman, and if Galen broke her heart, she'd undoubtedly survive.

  The evening of the party, Hester stood before her mirror. The ivory gown floated around her like a cloud. The neckline was daring and the puffed sleeves left the crowns of her brown shoulders bare. In the box along with the dress had been a pair of soft kid slippers, lisle stockings, a lightweight silk wrap, and ivory gloves. She picked up the wrap and gloves, gave one last pat to her shiny hair, and joined Abigail.

  Abigail was speechless.

  Hester grinned at the stunned look on her friend's face. "How do I look?"

  "My goodness, Hester. Is that really you?"

  Hester giggled and turned, making the hem flare. "I clean up rather well, don't you think?"

  "Indeed you do. Where did you get that gown?"

  Hester told her about seeing the silk in the Free Produce store and then gave her the name of the Windsor dressmaker.

  "It must have cost a pretty penny."

  "I thought I deserved a gift."

  "Yes you do, dear."

  Hester felt a small twinge of guilt for not being fully truthful with Gail, but she hadn't lied. The dress had come from Windsor and Hester did deserve a gift.

  Gail said, "When Foster sees you he may have second thoughts about picking that child bride."

  Hester let the remark go as Abigail added, "I admire Foster very much, but his wife seems so empty-headed. What does he discuss with her?"

  "I've no idea, Gail, but he says he's happy."

  Gail snorted. "Well, I can't begin to see what the attraction is—outside of her formidable bosom of course."

  "Abigail!" Hester laughed with astonishment.

  "It's the truth."

  "Get your wrap," Hester scolded with a smile. "Foster and Jenine will be here any moment. And you behave tonight."

  Gail pointed to herself. "Me? You're the one in the dress. What type of trouble are you anticipating this evening?"

  Hester simply grinned and arched an eyebrow.

  Abigail's eyes narrowed at Hester's smugness. "Hester Wyatt, what are you about?"

  "Nothing."

  "Lightning will strike you for lying."

  "I've nothing to say."

  Gail did not appear satisfied." Are you going to inform me eventually?"

  Silence.

  "Okay, Miss Sphinx, keep your secrets, but I will find out."

  With Foster guiding the reins, Hester, Jenine, and Gail made the trip over to the Folly. Dusk had fallen by the time they arrived and they drove through the open wrought iron gates. They found themselves at the rear of a long line of vehicles, all slowly inching their way up the horseshoe-shaped gravel drive to the house. Along the drive sat beautiful multicolored lanterns to illuminate the way. The effect of the lanterns shining softly against the imposing house gave the surroundings a magical air.

  The house sat at the apex of the horseshoe and they were still a few feet away. Behind their wagon, Hester could see that many other vehicles had joined the slow-moving line. Some held occupants she recognized while others were driven by strangers. She wondered just how many people had been invited.

  When they finally reached the door, two men in black and gold livery approached the wagon and helped the ladies down. Another came and held the reins while Foster joined them. Hester's eyes swept over the magnificent, forest-green structure. It was quite obvious William Lovejoy had spared little expense in building the corniced, gabled beauty Galen now owned.

  One of the men then took Foster's seat and drove the wagon off around the drive. His remaining liveried companion explained, "We'll bring the wagon back around when you are ready to depart. Enjoy yourselves."

  Inside, the hum of the well-dressed crowd filled the air. Although the room with its high ceilings and beautiful chandelier was huge by Whittaker standards, there didn't appear to be an inch of unoccupied space within its cream-colored walls.

  A man with a deep, loud voice announced the entrance of Hester's party as if they were royalty. Foster appeared so impressed, Hester thought he'd burst out of his waistcoat. She found the whole thing a bit silly, but she followed her party into the room as if she made announced entrances as a matter of course.

  The room was so packed Hester doubted anyone had even heard their names. She saw many of her neighbors. Their friendly smiles of greeting helped Hester feel more at home. As she tried to hear what Abigail was shouting about over the din, Hester's eyes took a discreet tour around the room in search of Galen. His height made him easy to spot on the far side of the room. He was dressed in a coat of indigo velvet. The shirt beneath was snow white and the black silk pants were matched by his black silk waistcoat. He stood next to an elegantly gowned older woman with skin the color of ivory, and hair the color of night. When he looked up and found Hester's eyes, she felt his silent greeting as surely as if he'd kissed her mouth.

  Foster said, "Ah, there's Vachon over there. We should pay our respects."

  Gail chimed in excitedly, "Why, if I'm not mistaken, that's his aunt Racine at his side."

  Gail grabbed hold of Hester's wrist and said, "Come Hester, I want you to meet her."

  They made their way through the crowd. Hester saw Bea Meldrum and Branton Hubble standing with a knot of people. Their eyes widened at the sight of her in the elegant gown and she smiled. Since her arrival, many of her neighbors had greeted her appearance with similar reactions. Not even Foster seemed immune. During the ride over in the wagon he'd spent the whole time staring at her as if he'd never lain eyes on her before.

  As Galen watched Hester making her approach, he felt as if he were surrounded by silence in spite of the din around him. The gown graced her to perfection. He was pleased she'd worn it; he'd half expected to find her on his doorstep last night demanding he take back the dress; that she hadn't gave him hope that she'd willingly accept more gifts in the future.

  His aunt Racine interrupted his thoughts. "Galeno, did you hear a word I just said?"

  When he didn't answer she peered up into his face and turned her eyes to see what had him so totally enraptured. She saw the dark-skinned beauty in the ivory gown. "Is that her?"

  "Yes."

  "You've chosen well, neveu. She is lovely." Then Racine gasped, "Oh, my, is that Gail Grayson also?"

  Before Galen could reply, Racine bounded gracefully off into the crowd. He smiled as the two women embraced, but his eyes were on Hester. He took in the soft brown grace of her throat and shoulders, the lush curve of her mouth. He thought about the last time they'd been together and his blood rushed as if he were an untried youth. He sensed his heart pounding, felt his arousal awaken. He wasn't certain how he felt about being so singularly attracted to the lovely Indigo W
yatt, but he was certain he was up to the challenge.

  Gail and Racine were arm in arm as they returned to where Galen stood. Questions, laughs, and tears filled the next few moments as they renewed their friendship. While they continued talking excitedly, Galen greeted the Quints.

  Foster said genuinely, "Mr. Vachon, Jenine and I want to thank you for including us in this wonderful affair."

  Jenine added, "We didn't have the chance to celebrate our wedding so I'm real grateful."

  Galen replied smoothly, "No need to thank me. You're doing me a favor by giving me the chance to formally meet my neighbors. It is I who am in your debt."

  Galen then turned to Hester. "Miss Wyatt, you look stunning." He raised her hand to his lips. "How are you this evening?"

  "I'm fine, Mr. Vachon, and you?"

  He answered, "Now, I'm fine as well."

  Hester ignored his devilish gaze even as it warmed her senses. She had no intentions of letting herself be swept away by him so soon into the evening.

  Gail motioned Hester closer. "Racine, I want you to meet Hester Wyatt. Hester, Racine Rousseau."

  Racine's dark eyes were smiling. "I'm very glad to meet you, Hester Wyatt."

  "I'm pleased to meet you also."

  Galen made the rest of the introductions. "And Tante, this is Foster Quint and his wife, Jenine. Our newlyweds."

  "Congratulations," Racine replied. "I hope the two of you will be in love for many years to come."

  Jenine cuddled up close to Foster's arm and he gave her a tight squeeze. "Fostie and I are going to be married a long time, aren't we, sweetheart?"

  "For eternity, darling."

  Hester saw Abigail roll her eyes, then she quickly looked away from her friend.

  "I've heard so much about your house, Mr. Vachon," Jenine said. "It really is beautiful."

  "Thank you, but Mr. Lovejoy is due the credit. He commissioned the design."

  They spent a few more moments exchanging small talk, then Galen said, "If you are hungry, there are refreshments out on the veranda and a well-stocked buffet. Feel free to sample whatever you wish."

  The Quints left to explore the offerings on the verandah, while Racine and Gail announced they were off to find a quiet spot to catch up on their friendship, and promised to return later.

  Hester felt herself jostled by the crowd, but the spell woven over her by Galen's dark eyes made her barely notice.

  "Will you let me show you the grounds?"

  "No," she said softly, drowning in his eyes.

  "Why not?"

  "Everyone in the room is already staring at us."

  Galen had to admit she was correct. Although his guests were engrossed in conversations and in the trays of fine food and drink circulating around the room by the liveried staff, they were also scrutinizing the two of them closely, especially the women.

  Galen asked, "Am I correct in assuming there aren't many available men in the area?"

  "Yes, you are," Hester replied. "Have the local mamas been thrusting their daughters at you?"

  He nodded.

  Hester smiled and cooed sympathetically, "You poor soul," adding, "I hope they give you fits all evening. It's no less than you deserve for all this extravagance. You'd think you were royalty the way folks have been carrying on since you moved in here."

  "But I am royalty, Indigo. My title—"

  "I don't want to know," she said firmly, even though she was reeling from this latest revelation.

  He asked softly, "Then what do you want?"

  "To get through this evening without bringing the gossips down on my head," she quoted. "But you probably don't care about gossips, do you?"

  "I'm afraid I don't."

  "You really should be meeting your neighbors. It isn't polite to spend all your time with one guest. If you'd like I'll introduce you."

  "For you, anything. Lead the way."

  So Hester spent the next hour or so helping Galen get acquainted. Many of the people were uncomfortable at first; after all, few had met anyone this wealthy or cultured. But Galen charmed them all. The men were impressed by his knowledge of farming, hunting, and his easygoing manner. The women were dazzled by his smiles.

  Through it all Hester felt his eyes, his presence. Though difficult, she was still able to maintain a neighborly politeness. Every time she looked his way, she remembered their last meeting. Those stolen moments in his carriage still had the power to make her breathless. Even now as they stood talking to Branton Hubble about the local price of feed, she had no trouble recalling the intensity of his touch.

  After she introduced him around and she felt confident he could now move about the gathering more comfortably, Hester politely excused herself from his side. For the remainder of the evening he stayed a respectable distance away. Yet, each and every time she glanced up, she found him watching her. By the time the evening came to a close, she was finding it harder and harder to ignore his dark-eyed pull upon her will.

  But when it became time to leave, Gail and Racine were far too excited over their renewed friendship to be parted; one evening had not been enough time to talk about all they wished to share, so Gail accepted Racine's invitation to spend a few days at the Folly as Racine's guest. Hester thought it was a grand idea and gave them both her blessing. Hester found Foster and Jenine out in front of the house. They too opted out of departing. It seemed Raymond LeVeq had invited some of the men to stay on after the gathering to enjoy a game of billiards. Foster had been included in the invitation. He did not want to stay, but Jenine thought differently. In fact, he did not appear very happy with his wife's idea since he had always deemed billiards to be one of those idle pastimes detrimental to the forward movement of the race.

  Hester asked, "Foster, have you ever played billiards?"

  He shook his head no.

  Jenine countered, "But it hardly matters, this revolves around wealth and class, the billiards mean nothing. Only the men of influence like Hubble and Lovejoy have been asked to stay. LeVeq says Vachon especially wants Foster to attend."

  "But why?"

  Jenine smiled up at her husband, "Maybe he realizes he was wrong the day we all met, and that men like my Foster are valuable. I certainly believe he is. He's the schoolteacher here, that alone entitles him to rub elbows with the others."

  Hester wondered what Gail would think of Jenine's tiny show of ambition on Foster's behalf. Maybe the young woman wasn't as empty-headed as some folks believed.

  Foster asked, "But darling, how will you get home?"

  Jenine said, "I can ride with Lemuel Meldrum. He and Bea can take me when they leave. I'm sure Mr. Vachon will see Hester gets home safely. Don't you think Hester?"

  Hester didn't want to become embroiled in their discussion. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

  She bid them farewell and walked back over to the porch. Hester found the night air relaxing compared with the noise of the party inside. The cool silence of the breeze was lulling, making her reluctant to return. She was certain she would be able to find a ride home with someone, but she didn't want to go asking just yet. Hester pulled in a few breaths of fresh air. She was tired. Many of the people had already departed. Most folks in Whittaker farmed, and the daily chores began with the cock's crow. They weren't accustomed to fancy parties thrown by men who may or may not be counts, and neither was Hester.

  "Good evening, Miss Wyatt."

  His all too familiar voice blended seamlessly into the hush of the night. She tried to control her breathing as he came and stood beside her. "Good evening, Mr. Vachon."

  "Are you heading out for home?"

  "Yes, but I seem to be without a ride at the moment."

  "My carriage is right over there. I can see you home."

  Hester had no intentions of walking off into the dark with Galen Vachon, not with some of her neighbors still milling about the vast grounds. "I'm enjoying the night air. I'm content to wait for someone heading my way."

  He didn't move.
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  "There's no need for you to neglect your guests. I doubt I'll be kidnapped from your front door."

  "You look very beautiful tonight . . ."

  Hester continued to stare ahead lest someone like Viola Welsh, who happened to step outside at that very moment, think to start gossip. Viola was one of the largest women Hester knew. Her zest for food was surpassed only by her appetite for nosing around in other folks' affairs.

  "Well Hester, how are you?"

  "I'm well, Viola, and you?"

  "Well as can be expected when one has an unmarried daughter." She laughed.

  Hester could almost sense Galen stiffening.

  Viola said, "Mr. Vachon, such a lovely party. Have you met my daughter, April?"

  April was as thin as her mother was large. The girl had never been known to smile, though her mother was forever going on about April's sense of humor and the magnificence of April's mincemeat pies.

  Galen bowed politely to the sad-faced April.

  Hester couldn't resist, and so asked, "Viola, have you told Mr. Vachon about April's prize-winning pies?"

  For the next few moments, Hester stood smiling serenely while Viola touted her daughter's mastery of mincemeat. Viola was just getting warmed up when Galen suddenly remembered a guest he needed to speak with. He bowed politely to the ladies and practically ran back into the house.

  Viola did not take Galen's hasty retreat well, saying, "The rich can be terribly rude."

  April said, "Mother has it ever occurred to you that he might not like mincemeat. Why do you do that? Must you try and throw me at every unmarried man as if I were fish bait?"

  Hester was impressed by April's show of spirit. She was a nice enough young woman, but many people thought she'd stand a better chance of landing a husband if she could somehow barter for a new mama.

  April's voice reeked with frustration when she proclaimed, "I'll never get married."