Indigo (33 page)

For a moment she almost said yes, but then she remembered the talk she'd had with Bea, and Bea's voice echoed in her head ...
Men like him don't marry women like you and me...

Hester slowly shook her head.

Galen told her. "You are carrying my child—"

"You don't know that for sure."

Galen held onto his temper. "You are the contrariest woman I have ever met, Hester Wyatt. I will not have my child raised without a father."

"What if I marry you and there is no child? What then? What happens when you are bound for life to a purple-handed ex-slave woman you can't even present in public?"

"Would you stop using that as an excuse? You're afraid, Hester. Afraid that loving me is going to turn you into a woman who won't know her own mind."

She looked away, but he kept on, "You're afraid you're going to end up like your father, but think how deeply your father must have loved your mother to give over his very existence. He loved her enough not to care that he had no freedom. Loved her enough to turn his back on the world and all he owned. That took strength, Hester Wyatt, a strength you'll never know, all because you're afraid to trust your heart."

Hester raised her chin but said nothing.

"This is how much I love you, Indigo. By next week this time, you are going to be my wife, whether you care to be or not."

"You can't force me to marry you Galen."

Galen didn't argue. "Will you be in church on Sunday?"

She nodded.

"Good. So will I."

Hester stood. His eyes were sparkling with a determination that made her weak.

"You will be mine..." he whispered. "And the saints help us both."

That night, Hester lay in bed wondering how on earth Galen planned on gaining her hand. She could not fathom how he would accomplish it without her consent, but the prospects that he might indeed get his way made her toss and turn all night. In the morning, she awakened restless, tired, and still unable to glean Galen's scheme.

At church on Sunday, two days later, Hester parked her mule and wagon in the field amongst the vehicles and animals of the other parishioners. She noticed that some folks who usually greeted her with a smile and a friendly wave purposefully avoided her eyes. She could only assume that Foster had carried through with his threats. Stung by the cuts, she swallowed the humiliation and went on as if she hadn't been affected.

Hester went to a pew and sat. She tried not to show her upset feelings to the rest of the congregation, but it was hard to do when she could hear all the whispering going on behind her back and in the pews around her.

Foster entered the church with Jenine a few moments later, and the whispers became louder. It was the first time Hester had seen Jenine since the day at the school. Jenine pointedly avoided Hester's eyes. Foster, on the other hand, offered Hester an angry nod, then took his seat beside Jenine in a pew up front.

Hester was glad to see Bea come in and take a seat at her side. They were soon joined by Kate Bell and her husband, Harold, and Olympia and her aged mother, Augusta.

No sooner had they all settled in when Galen Vachon entered the sanctuary alone. The whispers became fast and furious and everyone in the church turned to stare, including Hester. He didn't acknowledge any of the curious parishioners. He simply took a seat across the aisle from where Hester sat with her friends.

Bea and the others sent Hester questioning looks but she took her cue from Galen and refused to acknowledge them. As the organist began the play, she stood with the rest of the congregation and began to sing the processional.

Hester noted that Galen was as impeccably dressed as always. In his all-black attire, he was by far the handsomest man in the county. Even though she and Galen had not parted amicably the last time they were together, she couldn't keep her eyes from straying to his golden good looks, and neither could any of the other female churchgoers. Not even Jenine appeared immune. She kept turning around to view him until Foster's increasingly hostile glares made her train her eyes on the front of the church. As the last notes of the processional faded away, everyone sat back down.

The reverend had always been a good friend to the cause of freedom and to the people in the community, but he viewed life with a strict morality dictated by the times and by his own interpretation of the Word. He stepped up to the pulpit and proceeded to give a rafter-rattling sermon denouncing the sins of the flesh. He spoke of deception and Satan, temptation and Adam and Eve. He invoked the names of biblical whores and preached on how they all got their just rewards. Hester sat still as a post, caught between humiliation and fury. Foster, on the other hand, kept making an obvious show of turning around and looking Hester's way to judge her reaction. She met his eyes stonily.

Galen had had enough. He looked around the church, furious that these provincials dared to vilify the woman he loved. He wouldn't allow her to be dragged through the mud simply because she'd become his life. His vast wealth and influence would shield her from the consequences of the gossip that would result from what he was about to do. He just hoped she would see the right in his actions and eventually forgive him someday.

When Galen stood up in the middle of Reverend Adams's sermon, the reverend's voice faltered and then silenced. Hester's heart began to pound and she took in a deep breath to steady herself. The church was absolutely still.

Galen spoke into the charged silence. "Reverend, since we all know for whom this fire and brimstone is intended, why don't you just prepare to conduct a wedding?"

Shock widened Hester's eyes and the congregation began to buzz excitedly.

Galen turned to Hester, then back to the reverend, who looked as stunned as everyone else. "There are rumors that Hester Wyatt is my whore. You are wrong. It is my wife I wish for her to be."

Over the audible shock that greeted his declaration, he directed his blazing gaze at Foster, who had the sense to turn back around.

"Hester Wyatt is my love...my heart."

He then turned to Hester. With his eyes firmly fixed on her own he began to recite in a low, rich voice, "Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse...thou hast ravished my heart... Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense ..."

Hester could hear soft gasps behind her but she could not move.

"Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue...Thy navel is like a round goblet which wanteth not liquor...The joints of your thighs are like jewels..."

Each and every word had been filled with heat and passion. Hester's eyes slid closed. Such recitations did not belong in church, even if Galen was quoting chapters four and seven of the Song of Solomon. Hester's senses felt stroked, caressed. She wondered if the great African queen Sheba had been as moved when Solomon spoke these words declaring his love.

Galen appeared to be waiting for her to make some type of response, but Hester couldn't even breathe; she'd never been involved in anything as remotely unbelievable as this, and neither had anyone else in the church.

The reverend heightened the tension when he called, "Hester Wyatt, step up to the altar please."

She had no doubts what the gossips would say if she turned him down, their tongues would tear her to shreds. Even if she said yes, today's events would still be told up and down the Road from Whittaker to Chicago and back.

The Reverend Adams called her again. She had no other recourse but to stand. Forcing herself to ignore everything and everyone around her, Hester moved on shaky legs out into the aisle.

Up at the altar, Galen turned to her and smiled and, unable to help herself, she smiled in reply. She crooked a finger and beckoned him down so she could speak into his ear. She whispered, "I'm going to get you for this..."

He grinned.

Hester stood next to Galen and let herself be made his wife. When the brief ceremony ended, everyone applauded. Galen kissed her lightly on her brow to seal the union, then took her hand and led her from the church.

Inside his carriage, Hester sat silently. Galen had given the gossips something to talk about for decades to come. She could still feel his words vibrating over her senses as he recited the words of Solomon.

She had to admit a part of her was fairly ecstatic over the union; she did love Galen after all, but she found great fault with his method. How dare he force this upon her? He'd gotten his way again, and whether he thought her afraid to love him or not, she still had nothing to offer a man like himself, no wealth, no status. She brought only her slave past and fervor to end slavery. She doubted his social set would consider either sterling attributes.

She glanced his way and found his gaze waiting. "I doubt the reverend will ever use that passage again."

Galen chuckled. "I thought he was going to swallow his tongue."

Hester held his smiling gaze then quietly confessed, "I have never been so moved."

He inclined his head, feeling the emotions he had for her grow even stronger. He whispered, "You are my heart."

His response made her soar, but she felt compelled to ask, "But couldn't you have declared it in a less dramatic fashion?"

He shrugged his wide shoulders. "You know I never do anything by half, it isn't in my nature, besides, you kept saying no."

"An answer you've never been able to accept."

"No, not when it's something I desire."

In his eyes she saw shimmering passion and her senses flared to its call.

He added easily, "If I had waited for you to agree, the child you may be carrying would be married and have a child of its own."

She shook her head upon hearing his teasing logic.

He asked then, "So, do you hate me?"

She met his brilliant gaze. "I should, but I can't."

"I'm sorry," he told her genuinely.

"If I am carrying, will you take a mistress?"

Galen searched her diamond-black eyes. "It was not something I had considered, no. Why do you ask?"

"I—thought that was what men of your class did. Take mistresses I mean."

Galen realized she was very serious. "I already have a mistress, Indigo. You."

"Galen, I'm your wife. Mistresses are for—" she hesitated.

He coaxed her to finish the phrase. "What? Pleasure?"

She nodded yes.

"You're correct, they are for pleasure, and because they are they're gifted with gowns and very extravagant jewelry. They are taken on trips to exotic lands and introduced to exotic sights and sounds—all the things I plan on doing for you."

At the end of the short ride, the coach drew to a stop in front of the Folly. As Hester took his hand to step down, she asked, "Is this where we are to live?"

"I don't know, I came here out of habit. If you wish for us to live at your home, we can."

"I suppose that's something we can discuss later."

He agreed. As she stood before him Galen reached out and stroked the wing of her dark eyebrow. "Will you do me a favor?"

"If I can."

"When we get in the house will you tell Maxi you don't hate me for doing what I did to you today? She was very angry when she found out my plans."

"How angry?"

"So angry she let Raymond eat my dessert last evening."

Hester chuckled. "That angry? I should let you suffer, you know."

"But because you love me, you won't."

She did love him, with all her heart and soul. "Yes. Because I love you I won't."

He kissed her mouth. "You are the perfect wife."

"And you are incorrigible."

Inside, Maxi had all the help lined up to make her acquaintance. Hester met the gardener, the stable hands, the two upstairs maids, and the coachmen. They were all dressed their best and Hester had never been so uncomfortable in her life. How in the world would she become
accustomed to having servants? In spite of her unease, she greeted everyone with a smile then let herself be shown upstairs by her new husband.

Hester stood in Galen's large bedroom assailed by the memories of the last time she'd been here. Knowing that some couples slept in separate beds, she asked, "Where will I sleep?"

Galen gently lifted her chin. Looking down into her eyes he said, "Mistresses always sleep with their lovers,
petite."

Hester's heart began to race. "Then I suppose I'll be in here with you."

"I can hardly give you pleasure if you're in another wing, now can I?"

Her heart pounded faster. "No—you can't."

He kissed her and said, "Come, I've something to show you."

He took her hand and led her through a door which connected Galen's bedroom to a smaller adjoining room. It was a beautifully furnished sitting room, but the furniture lay hidden beneath mounds and mounds of some unknown female's clothing. Hester wondered if it all belonged to his aunt Racine. There were cloaks, day dresses and ball gowns, traveling suits and handbags. One corner of the room held nothing but shoes, all in a multitude of shades and styles. Hat boxes were stacked against a wall in a column high as her head. There was not a space in the room unused. Every inch was crammed with female clothing. The place resembled a dress shop.