Indigo (23 page)

Hester wanted to tell him no. Her dilemma with Galen took precedence over any problems Jenine may be experiencing in adjusting to life in Whittaker. Jenine was one of the reasons Hester had decided to stay at home in the first place. Hester had so far avoided hearing whatever the gossips were saying about Foster returning with a bride, and she had no desire to spend the evening being the subject of whispers or pitying stares. That she was also avoiding Galen sealed the decision.

"Foster, I'm certain everyone will love Jenine just as much as you. She shouldn't have any problems winning them over.”

"I want so much for her to settle in and be liked. If Vachon builds the school, she and I are going to be prominent members of the community. I can't have her hiding away every time someone approaches her."

"Is she truly that shy?"

"She's so shy she won't even let me—" He stopped.

Hester waited in the silence for him to continue, but when he did not, she ran her gaze over his seemingly frustrated manner. "Foster?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Hester had the impression that he was hiding something, but she didn't press.

He asked her again to attend.

She replied, "You don't need me there, but I will think about it."

He took her hands and held them lightly in his own. "That is all I ask. Thank you, Hester."

Hester saw him out then watched him drive his old buggy down the road.

The only time Hester would admit wanting to see Galen again was at night when she lay in her bed alone. In the light of day, the wanting made little sense; Galen was turning her world on its head, she had no idea of his true identity, and he was far too wealthy for his own good.

But at night, when darkness protected her secrets, she confessed. Being with Galen opened her emotions to new and volatile sensations, sensations her virgin body craved to explore even while the no-nonsense Hester inside shook her head in serious disappointment. She wanted to see him again, if for no other reason than the way he made her feel. He treated her as if she were precious, touched her as if she were treasured. She'd never been called beautiful until Galen entered her life, and indeed his kiss and his touch made her feel so. The memories of the night at the Folly were still as sensually vivid as the afternoon in the carriage. Alone in the dark, she wished Galen were there to ease the flames he'd left simmering inside, wished he were there to bestow his magical touch on her throbbing nipples and the damp, pulsing places that shocked her to think about. Both interludes had been a revelation. Who knew passion could wrack a woman's body with such blinding force? He'd made her body ache in places she'd never known could ache, but she'd loved every bold stroke of his golden hands and she wanted more.

The day before the party, Hester came to a decision. In spite of Foster's plea, she would not attend. When Abigail enquired as to her reason, Hester gave the excuse that she didn't feel well and blamed it on an oncoming bout of the spring sniffles. Gail offered to skip the event and keep Hester company, but Hester insisted that there was no need for Gail to miss the good time.

Bea stopped by later that afternoon to fetch Gail. They both had appointments with Kate to have their hair done.

On the heels of their departure, a knock sounded on the door. Hester opened it to find Andre Renaud. He held a large box wrapped in gold paper in his hands. Atop the box sat a beautiful gold lace bow.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Renaud."

He cleared his throat. "Um, Miss Wyatt—"

His uncomfortable face told all.

"More gifts from your employer?" Hester asked.

"I'm afraid so."

Hester stepped back so he could enter. "What is it this time?"

"I don't know."

She shook her head and took the box from his hands.

He headed back to the door, explaining, "I'm supposed to leave before you open it."

"I'll wager it is because he doesn't want me to make you return whatever is in here."

Renaud swallowed. "I believe so."

Hester chuckled and thought to herself,
Galen, Galen, Galen. Whatever am I going to do with you?
She looked over at Andre's distressed face and said, "Thank you, Mr. Renaud. If it has to be returned, I will beard the dragon personally. You may tell him you accomplished your mission."

Renaud appeared genuinely relieved. He bowed. "Then I will take my leave.
Adieu,
Miss Wyatt."

"Adieu,
Mr. Renaud."

He departed and Hester spent a few moments musing over this latest show of Galen's affection. Whatever it contained would be extravagant. Galen did nothing by half, so she was also fairly certain that the contents would have to be returned.

She removed the delicate bow, then the beautiful gold paper. The top of the beige box inside bore the scrolling stamp of one of Windsor's finest dressmakers. Hester's hands shook as she lifted the lid, and then her eyes widened at the sight of the dress inside. The beauty of it took her breath away. It was made from the ivory silk she'd coveted at the Free Produce store in Detroit. Marveling, she lifted the dress fully free, and a small card spilled out. It read:
Your wishes are mine to make true.
He'd signed it with an elaborate letter G, and below it had placed his familiar dragon seal.

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 Wyatt, but he was certain he was up to the challenge.