Indigo (24 page)

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.

"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."

Viola's voice was filled with shock. "April!"

"Oh, let's just go home, Mother."

Neither of them bothered to bid Hester goodbye as they left the porch and walked out into the night.

Hester was not surprised when Galen's coach drove up a few moments later. Galen set the brake and hopped down. "Your chariot awaits, madam, although you should be made to walk home for that stunt with Viola and her daughter. I've never liked mincemeat or women with pushy mamas."

Hester smiled at his words. "I'll remember that for the next time. But you know I can't let you see me home."

"I know. I'll have my driver take you."

"That isn't necessary. I'm certain Mr. LeVeq has no desire to be taken away from the festivities. I'll find someone else."

"Raymond drove only for me as a favor until I found someone suitable. He doesn't have the temperament to be hired help."

The driver appeared. As he nodded at Hester she noted that he was the same man who'd driven the coach in Detroit.

Galen asked, "I suppose I can't have a kiss either."

She shook her head and got into the coach.

He stood on the ground looking up at her and Hester could feel her body answering the desire's call in his eyes.

"I do wish you'd stay so we could talk."

"I can't."

"Ah, yes, reputation is everything."

She ignored his slight sarcasm. "I have to live here, Galen."

He eyed her in the darkness. "I'm sorry. I'm being selfish. You're very humbling for a man, Indigo."

She was succumbing to the memories of their times together. "That isn't my intent."

"You're humbling just the same."

Galen didn't want her to leave, but could not conjure up a plan that would convince her to stay. Were she a more worldly woman, he knew any number of ways to woo her, but Indigo had him in a complete flux. "May I come and see you later?"

Hester's first instinct was to see if they were being overheard. Her next was to try and slow her thumping heart. She'd never known a man of such directness. "I— no."

"I think I might anyway," he replied smiling.

"No," Hester gasped softly. "Promise me you won't."

"I can't give my word when there's a good chance I may not keep it."

"Galen?!"

"Don't fret."

She took that to mean he would not visit and she sighed with relief.

"I—must go," she stammered.

He stepped back.
"Au revoir, petite."

The driver slapped the reins and the coach rolled forward.

Back at home, Hester made sure the jockey's light was lit, then went up for bed. Galen's request to visit still stirred her peace. She wondered what would happen if she had agreed? Would she have done something terribly forward like donning one of the gowns in the chest? She glanced at the chest sitting against the wall. It hadn't been opened again since the day it arrived. She walked over to it. Kneeling, she ran her hand over the fine wood carvings, once again caught by its beauty, then undid the small lock. As she slowly lifted the lid, the smells of the fine scents packed in the bottom of the chest wafted out and filled her nose with a fragrant aroma. What gown would she have worn for him, she asked herself. This one? She held up a dark, emerald-green gown. The seams had been left unsewn. The edges were beautifully scalloped and overlaid with an even darker emerald lace. The only closures were a delicate little ribbon at the base of the bodice and one on each hip. The lace-edged décolletage was far more daring than Hester would have liked, but she supposed men appreciated such things. She held it against herself imagining how it would feel to wear something so provocative. She decided she wanted to know, so she took it over to the bed and began to undress.