by Jane Peart
April 1
April Fool's Day! I write this because I'm beginning to believe I am the biggest fool imaginable.
Almost a week has passed and not a single word from Rex. I don't understand. Could I have been completely wrong about him? I close my eyes and see the way he looked at me, feel his kiss upon my lips, the warmth of my response—Fool!
Fool to get my hopes up, fool to dream that the "secret desire of my heart"—to love and be loved—was on the brink of happening.
On Thursday morning she chose her outfit carefully, knowing it would come under Estelle's severe scrutiny. The thought of Louis's sister almost took all the pleasure out of her day off, but it was too late now to back out. A glance out the cottage window told her Louis had already arrived. He was standing beside his shiny black phaeton, talking to Brook.
Both men's eyes registered approval as she joined them. Her fawn faille suit was one of Aunt Susan's remodeled creations, but the material was fine and her refurbished accessories were also stylish.
"You look charming as usual, Miss Pride."
"And I believe her stay in our beautiful clime has brought fresh roses to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes," commented Brook with a wicked twinkle in his own. His slow wink behind Louis's back reminded Addie of her secret "experimental treatment."
Addie returned the look with a reproving glance while maintaining her air of propriety for Louis's benefit. What an incorrigible tease Brook was!
Louis assisted Addie into the smart carriage, climbed into the driver's seat beside her, then picked up the reigns as Brook waved them off. As they started off at a trot, Louis remarked, "You may have noticed I called you "Miss Pride" instead of Addie as you've given me permission to do. That was for Stanton's benefit. No use setting Silver Springs tongues wagging—at least not yet!" He glanced at her with a sly smile.
Louis must not have thought it necessary to wait for her to confirm the remark. Smiling confidently he turned onto Lincoln Road and started toward the center of town.
"I hope you won't mind, Addie, but I have to make a brief stop at the train station before we set out for home. I would have done so before coming to pick you up, but the train was late, and I didn't want to keep you waiting. It won't take but a few minutes. My overseer should be there to receive a shipment. I just want to check with him."
He pulled the buggy into the shade of a leafy oak near the train depot and placed a buggy brick to brake the wheels before crossing the street to the depot.
Addie watched him go, thinking how immaculately dressed and well-groomed Louis always was. Somehow he did not seem at all suited to the life of ranching or owning a vineyard. Addie had noticed how casually clothed other ranchers were when they came into town. Many frequented the gentlemen's lounge at the hotel, and they all had a certain look about them—a rugged, outdoorsy "western" style—like Rex Lyon.
At the thought of Rex, Addie felt a twinge of resentment. She was more disappointed than she cared to admit that he had made no effort to see her since the day of the picnic with the Bairds. Could he actually be so busy that he didn't have time even to send a note?
As she sat there waiting, Addie glanced idly about her. Her attention was drawn to what seemed to be an animated conversation—an argument?—between Louis and a shorter man in workman's clothes standing at the end of the platform of the train station.
Her eyes followed to where the man was pointing and she gave an unconscious gasp. She saw a group of twenty or more men squatting on the ground near an open boxcar still on the tracks. They were dressed in faded blue jackets, their bare feet were in sandals, their black hair was pulled back into long braids hanging down their backs. Why, they were Chinese!
Other than the glimpses she had had of the cook at Silver Springs, Addie had never seen Chinese, except in pictures in books—pictures mostly of plump mandarins or empresses adorned with jeweled, embroidered costumes, long curved fingernails and tiny bound feet, round faces painted white with shining black almond-shaped eyes. These men were not at all like that. There faces were gaunt, sallow, and they looked pitifully thin.
For some reason Addie felt a sick churning in her stomach. A terrible memory flashed into her mind. Once when she was a very little girl she had been in Richmond with her father, riding in a carriage over to visit relatives. They had passed a wagon in which some black men were huddled. As they went by, Addie had seen the same blank, hopeless stare on their faces that she saw now in these Oriental men. Later, much later, she had learned those men were on their way to the slave market.
Involuntarily, Addie shuddered. She blinked as if to erase her memory. Even though she had been brought up in Virginia, her parents had both hated the system of slavery and thought it should be abolished. Her father had been a lawyer, not a planter like her grandfather Pride. Although they spent summers and holidays at Oakleigh, in the winter she and her parents lived in town. Except for Renie, Addie's nurse when she was a tiny child, the only servants they had were Essie, the cook, and Lily, a maid. Thomas, the butler, also served as coachman and her father's valet. Addie had never thought of them as slaves. They were just adults who were black, friends, part of her life. All had eventually been freed.
As she grew older, her father talked to her sometimes about more serious matters. He had been vehement in his denunciation of slavery. "It's a horrible institution. The sooner abolished, the better for the South. It corrupts as much as it demeans human dignity, and has a demoralizing effect on everyone it touches."
Addie remembered that as she could not turn her gaze away from that pitiful group of Chinese. What were they doing here in this pleasant little California town?
"Well, now, we can be on our way," Louis said briskly as he got back into the buggy. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Who are those men, Louis?"
"Chinese I hired to work in my vineyards. Just came up from San Francisco. I've had some building the limestone cooling caves. Good workers. Hard workers, much better than some of these locals who don't even put in a day's work—" Louis's mouth tightened. "But let's not talk about that" He turned and smiled at Addie. "I don't even want to think of labor problems or work today. Today is to enjoy!"
Addie had many questions she wanted to ask about the Chinese workers. They looked sick and undernourished. How could they possibly outwork the well-fed, hardy Californios she had seen in the fields around Calistoga? But obviously Louis had no intention of discussing it.
The countryside out to the Montands' place was beautiful. The winding road was flanked on either side by trees, and acre upon acre of vineyards on the hillside golden with mustard blossoms.
At length, they turned into a lane that led steeply up a hillside. At its crest a large white house gleamed in the sunlight. They entered by a crushed stone drive with yards of manicured lawn on either side edged with flowering bushes. As they got closer to the house Addie noticed a formal garden with circular flower beds.
"What lovely grounds, Louis. It was dark the night of the housewarming party so I didn't see them."
"That's all Estelle's province," Louis replied expansively. "I have no feel for flowers."
He pulled on the reins, and they stopped before the rococo Victorian house, circled with balconies, a deep verandah shadowed by elaborate fretwork. Between the porch posts all along the front were large hanging baskets of pink fuchsias and purple lobelia.
To Addie the three-storied structure looked austere, unwelcoming. Perhaps it was the dark-painted closed shutters on the long windows all across the front that gave that impression.
When Estelle came out to greet them, she was cordial and gracious if cool. But then again, Addie tried to remind herself that Bostonians could not be expected to have the warm effusiveness of Southern hostesses. Addie tried to put aside the feeling that Louis's sister was not all that glad to see her.
"Good day, Miss Montand. What a lovely place you have," Addie said sincerely, holding out her hand, which Louis's sister did not seem t
o see.
"So much still to be done, I'm afraid," Estelle said with a show of ennui. Then she turned to her brother, saying, "Louis, Manuel wants to talk to you. He's waiting for you. I think it's about—," she checked herself, "He said it was important."
"Excuse me, my dear," Louis said and went back down the porch steps over to where a man stood under the shade of a large oak tree nearby.
"Come along inside," Estelle said to Addie.
Addie tried to forget her initial snub, and giving Estelle the benefit of the doubt that she had not seen her extended hand and had not simply ignored it, she followed her into the house.
As Estelle led her inside, she explained the dimness of the interior saying she had learned it was necessary to close the shutters against the heat of the day in order to keep the house comfortably cool. The spacious entrance hall was paneled, as was its wide stairway in glowing redwood.
The parlor was, although elegant in every respect, almost overmuch. There were scalloped valances about the floor-length windows draped in brocade satin and curtained with starched lace. The furniture was heavy carved mahogany upholstered in emerald velvet. A richly flowered carpet covered the floor up to the marble hearth in front of the white marble fireplace over which hung a gloomy landscape framed in ornate gold.
It seemed ironic to Addie that with the abundance of real flowers growing in the yard an arrangement of artificial wax flowers under domed glass was placed on a polished table in the center of the room.
"Louis has excellent taste and is very particular," Estelle said as she moved over to the windows, fidgeted with the tassels, adjusted the tiebacks.
Estelle darted a quick glance her way, as if to see if she was sufficiently impressed. Although her statement seemed to beg some response, Addie could not think of any to make. She had been brought up in a gracious home with the understated elegance of fine English furniture, most of it brought over early in the eighteenth century by her Pride ancestors. She was a little at a loss of how to react to such ostentation.
"Louis told me he wanted you to see the whole house, so we'll indulge him." Estelle spoke with affection not untinged with condescension, a tone she often used in regard to her brother. Estelle moved toward the hall out to the broad staircase. "So, come along, we'll go upstairs."
Addie followed Estelle up the steps, noting the flocked wallpaper, the crystal prisms on the globed gaslights at the landing and at the top. As an invited guest, she had never before been asked to inspect the premises. Evidently complying with Louis's request, Estelle was doing the honors with some reluctance.
Addie remembered how Louis's conversations had been sprinkled with insinuating remarks—hinting at some point in time when his mansion was finished, when he was settled on his own estate, of some decision he would make. With even more discomfort Addie recalled Brook's predictions regarding Louis's intentions. With each step she took Addie's apprehension increased.
Estelle proceeded down the thickly carpeted hall, then opened a door at the end. Her voice jerked Addie back from her random thoughts. "This is the master suite. Go in, look around," Estelle urged, stepping back to let Addie enter.
Almost hesitant, Addie walked in and looked around at the lavishly decorated bedroom. Pink cabbage roses bloomed on the wallpaper, matching pink satin draperies hung at the bow window, pink marble tops were on all the surfaces of the dark wood furniture, a mirrored bureau and tables. An enormous, ornately carved bed draped in pink satin dominated the room.
"Louis ordered all this furniture himself. It's Philippine mahogany, hand carved by Spanish artisans. The marble is from Italy," Estelle said as she crossed the plush, flowered carpet and opened another door. "Here is the bathroom," she said triumphantly, gesturing with a flourish into what appeared to be a giant seashell. The walls and floor were pink marble. A huge porcelain tub stood on a polished wooden dais. Sculptured gold taps and faucet on a pedestaled wash basin rose like a huge opening flower, thick bath towels monogrammed with an embroidered M hung on a scrolled rack nearby.
Addie was impressed. Who wouldn't have been? Certainly no expense had been spared in the completion of Louis's house. To live here with his sister? Or alone? Certainly he had something else in mind with all these luxurious accommodations.
"Louis said you would be staying for luncheon?" Estelle hesitated as if expecting—hoping?—Addie would correct her. Addie felt puzzled.
"Why, yes, at least that is what I understood," Addie replied. Surely Estelle must know that Louis had invited her for lunch. It was hard to believe his sister would be so gauche as to ask such a question, unless . . . Then Addie recalled something she had heard her Aunt Susan say: A lady is never rude unless intentionally. Was Estelle intentionally trying to make her unwelcome?
"Well, then, I must go consult with our cook." Estelle spoke as if she must avert a culinary crisis. "In the meantime, please feel free to use the facilities to freshen up before we dine. Louis is with his overseer and may be some time coming in." With that Estelle swept out of the room.
Addie moved over to one of the long windows, parted the lace undercurtain, and looked out. Morning sun drenched the lawn—and the vineyards and the hills beyond—with golden light, and for a moment Addie felt a wave of nostalgia for the Virginia countryside. Suddenly she was back at Oakleigh and she felt the tug of homesickness for those other more familiar fields, trees, and views.
She turned back into the room with its ornate furnishings with a sense of loss and disorientation. All at once she felt stifled for air and hurried out of the overdecorated room. At the door she paused in brief confusion trying to recall which way to turn to the stairs. Then seeing the large brooding landscape she had noticed at the top of the landing, she hurried along the hallway and down the stairway.
The front door stood open, and Addie went out onto the verandah in search of Louis. Standing on the edge of the porch steps she saw him at the far end of the lawn in an intense conversation with a man dressed in workman's clothes. As they spoke the other man punctuated his speech with hand gestures. Was this the Californio Louis said he had "inherited" along with his purchase of the land? Whatever they were talking about appeared important, to do with the vineyards. Addie did not want to interrupt. She turned her attention to the lovely gardens, the circular flower beds filled with blooming plants of all colors, the gravel paths that wound through the Italian statuary and birdbaths artistically placed at intervals. At the end, where the terraced lawn sloped down into the vineyards, stood an elaborate latticed gazebo.
Just then Louis turned as if to walk away from the discussion. Seeing Addie, he raised one hand to wave and started walking toward her. As he came within hearing distance he asked eagerly, "So, did Estelle give you the grand tour?"
"Yes, and it is very impressive indeed."
Looking pleased, Louis took the verandah steps two at a time and stood smiling down at Addie. He took her hand and drew it through his arm. "Well, then perhaps I should show you around the grounds a little. There are extensive orchards as well as the vineyards."
Just then Estelle came out the front door, and Addie said, "Louis is just going to show me your lovely garden, which he tells me is your creation."
"A garden is constant work. There is always much more to be done and our gardener is very slow—" her mouth tightened, "—very stubborn, set in his ways. I give directions b u t . . . " Estelle shrugged indifferently. Then without thanking Addie for the compliment she spoke directly to Louis, "Don't forget Father Paul is coming for lunch, and Milton should be here soon."
"Of course, I remember, Estelle." There was a tiny hint of irritation in Louis's voice. As they started down the verandah steps he explained, "She has invited Father Paul Bernard whom we knew from Saint Helena before we came to Calistoga and our lawyer, Milton Drew, to join us."
Addie thought of the little scene earlier when Estelle had seemed unsure whether she was going to stay for lunch. Did she really not know? Or was that an act? If so, why?
"I'm so glad you were able to come today, Addie. To see all this." He gestured broadly as they began strolling through the garden. "It's all turning out just the way I planned. I've been eager to share it with you."
They walked around the gazebo where the graveled paths formed a circle. Addie paused at a pansy bed filled with large purple, yellow, and lavender flowers. Leaning down to touch a velvety petal delicately with one finger, she said, "Everything is picture perfect, Louis."
"I'm glad you find it so, Addie. Next we'll go down to the orchards," Louis said. "If I weren't so determined on becoming the premier vintner in the valley, I think I would cultivate more fruit trees," Louis remarked. "But wine is becoming increasingly popular in America. Cultivating wine grapes will be a lucrative crop. Growers and vintners are bound to have increased prestige. I mean to show all these naysayers that you don't have to be born into a wine-making family to succeed. In fact, eventually, I will have my own dynasty to pass on to my children and grandchildren."
Addie was conscious of the emphasis he put on the words, children and grandchildren. She felt him looking at her with special significance but she pretended to be admiring some calla lilies and did not meet his gaze.
They left the garden and turned down a path that led into the bordering orchard planted with precise rows of fruit trees. Louis stopped to point out a peach tree with its greenish yellow globes that would soon ripen into luscious fruit. As Louis examined the leaves of one branch, Addie heard a rustling sound and saw movement at the end of the lane in which they stood. She squinted through the heavy foliage and was sure she saw several blue-coated figures huddled behind some trees at the end. She tugged Louis's sleeve, "Louis, are there people working here? I thought I saw some ..."