But try as she might, Felicity couldn't bring herself to believe that Vivian was worthy of his love. She decided Vivian's character was hopelessly flawed. She couldn't make herself believe that Vivian was the kind of woman to do anything out of charity for others. She didn't like the fact that Vivian was so beautiful, and she didn't like the fact that Holt was in love with her. There was no other explanation for it. She was hopelessly jealous. And she was jealous because of Holt.
"After all Vivian's kindness, I feel guilty that I can't like Mr. diViere," Lillie said. "I feel especially guilty because he's recommended my husband to some of his best clients."
"Why do you dislike him?" Holt asked.
"I have no real reason," Lillie said. "Clifford has forbidden me to mention it to anyone. I wouldn't have said anything to you except that I knew you felt the same way."
"How?" Felicity asked.
"I saw the way he looked at Mr. diViere," Lillie said. "That's as close as I've ever come to seeing hatred in anyone's eyes. I was afraid you might fight him."
"I have good reason to dislike Laveau diViere," Holt said, "but you don't have to worry I'll start a fight."
"It is a nice party," Lillie said. "Clifford says we were lucky to be invited. We wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for Vivian."
"That's the only reason we're here," Holt said.
Lillie turned to glance at Vivian, then turned back. "I wish she weren't so friendly with Mr. diViere. I've heard whispers that he knows things he shouldn't and takes advantage of them. Some people will not invite him into their homes anymore."
"I would find it very difficult to be civil to anyone who works for the Reconstruction or the army," Felicity said.
"That's not the worst of what he's done," Holt said.
"What do you mean?" Lillie asked.
"I don't think you ought to tell her that," Felicity said. She didn't doubt what Holt said, but she didn't want him spreading the story all over Galveston. She worried what the Reconstruction government or the Union Army would do. They allowed no opposition from any quarter.
"Why not?" Holt asked.
"It could get you into serious trouble."
"Is it that terrible?" Lillie asked.
"He betrayed his troop to the Union Army," Holt said.
"Are you sure?" Lillie asked.
"I was part of that troop. I saw men murdered while they slept."
Lillie looked stricken. "Vivian can't possibly know that. She wouldn't have anything to do with him if she did."
"I don't expect she does," Holt said. "It wouldn't be to Laveau's advantage."
Felicity couldn't imagine what it was like to see friends killed before your very eyes, men you'd ridden with, joked with, fought with, eaten with and slept next to. For a man like Holt, the worst part must have been knowing he could do nothing to help them.
"Do other people know what he did?" Lillie asked.
"You'll just start trouble if you tell people," Felicity said to Holt.
"Only if I make a public accusation," Holt said.
"What can we do?" Lillie asked.
"Nothing yet," Holt said. "Seeing Laveau here tonight surprised me into speaking without thinking. I need to consider what to do next."
"I have to tell Clifford," Lillie said.
"I expect seeing me was an equally nasty surprise for Laveau," Holt said. "I'm sure he's already concocting some story to make me look like a fool if I start spreading rumors against him."
"It's more probable he's trying to work out a way to have the army put you in jail," Felicity said.
"They don't have to have a real reason," Lillie warned. "They'll hate you just because you fought on the Confederate side."
"But he's from Vermont," Felicity said.
"It won't make any difference," Lillie said. She looked over at Laveau, her glance now fearful. "I don't know what I'll do if he speaks to me."
"Act as you always have," Holt said. "If you don't, your family could suffer."
"Maybe I could ask Vivian--"
"Leave that to me," Holt said.
"Are you sure you ought to tell her?" Felicity asked.
"She has to know."
"If she doesn't believe you, it'll damage your relationship with her. If she does believe you, it'll put her in a difficult position. She can't suddenly stop seeing a man everyone knows is her friend without people wanting to know why."
"I can't let her continue thinking Laveau is a man of character. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I want to speak with Vivian before we sit down to dinner."
"I like him," Lillie said as Holt moved to join the group around Vivian. "I hope you marry him."
"Me! Marry Holt!" Felicity exclaimed.
"You like him."
"He's in love with Vivian. He came to Texas just to look for her."
"He may have, but he likes you."
"He loves Vivian."
"No, he doesn't. He's just infatuated with her."
"Why do you say that?"
"The first time he came to visit, Vivian ran off and left him. He talked with me a long time. He probably doesn't realize it now, but the idea that he wants to marry her is so ingrained, he hasn't given it any real thought. When he does, he'll realize he would be miserable married to her."
"Why would he be miserable?"
"I don't like to criticize Vivian after she's been so good to us, but she won't settle for anyone who isn't rich. She likes gaiety, parties, admiration."
"Holt isn't like that."
"I know. He'll marry you if you want him."
"But I don't. I mean, I have all I can do to help my father with his medical practice. Besides, I'm too old to be thinking about marriage."
"Nonsense. Holt must be over thirty. You're perfect for each other."
"I agree he shouldn't marry Vivian," Felicity said, "but I wouldn't want a husband I had to compete for."
"All women compete for their husbands. We just compete in different ways. Now I need to find my husband before they announce dinner. I suggest you insinuate yourself into that circle around Vivian. It would do her good to realize she has some competition."
"I'm not competition for Vivian! She's extraordinarily beautiful."
"You're quite lovely yourself." Lillie patted Felicity's arm. "I'm putting my money on you."
She's crazy, Felicity thought as she watched Lillie leave to find her husband. There wasn't a person in the world--certainly no man--who would say she was attractive enough to receive a second glance when Vivian Calvert was in the room. Clothes, jewels, makeup, and hairstyles could do a lot to compensate for the lack of natural beauty, but Vivian had the advantage in those areas as well. In addition, she was vibrant, sparkling, probably witty, and had an entrancing smile. You only had to look at the men surrounding Vivian--and the lack of men paying her attention--to know who would win any tug of war.
Still, this wasn't about her or Vivian. It was about Holt. She wasn't sure she believed Lillie was right when she said Holt's desire to marry Vivian would change. But she was sure that Vivian would be the absolute worst wife for him. She would be doing them both a favor if she could make them realize that before they made a commitment they couldn't change.
She was certain that nothing would come of it, but she would join the circle around Vivian. But before she could follow through with her intention, two women she hadn't seen in several years approached. Felicity greeted them with a smile of welcome. It would be nice to renew acquaintances.
"We haven't seen you in years," Megan Fraser said. She didn't give Felicity the expected hug or buss on the cheek.
"I thought you'd left Galveston," Carleen Phillips said. She inspected every inch of Felicity's person, apparently looking for something to comment on.
"I've been very busy helping my father with his medical practice," Felicity answered.
"I didn't know your father was still a doctor," Megan said.
"He can't have a big practice," Carleen said. "Nobody we know goes
to him."
The cattiness of Carleen's remark surprised Felicity. "My father hasn't been entirely well since the war," she said. "He accepts only a few patients."
"I heard some doctors have had to accept a side of bacon or a bag of nuts for payment," Megan said.
"Some people are lucky to have that much since the war," Felicity said.
"Tell your father to insist on gold," Carleen said. "If he doesn't, you'll never be able to buy another dress, not even one like that."
Felicity's dress was quite nice, but it wasn't sumptuous like Carleen's. She'd married a shipping merchant whose business was booming.
"I don't go to many parties," Felicity said.
"Neither do we," Megan said. "It seems one of my children is always coming down with something. I tell them they fall sick just to keep me home."
"I don't know how she keeps looking so young," Carleen said of her friend. "She's got five children."
"You've got four," Megan replied. "Sometimes I think we're both slaves to our husbands' desire to replace all the men who died in the war. Be glad you'll never have to worry about that."
"I hope to marry and have children," Felicity said.
"Sorry if I've put my foot in it," Megan said with a labored attempt to laugh. "I assumed you were still single at your age because you didn't want to get married. You are a year older than I am."
"I haven't yet met anyone I want to marry," Felicity said, shocked and hurt that two women she'd considered friends would say such things.
"We lost so many fine young men in the war," Carleen said. "It's inevitable that many women will end up old maids."
"Have you heard anything from Ben Odum?" Megan asked Felicity.
"I forgot to tell you," Carleen said to her friend. "My husband ran across him in Houston a few months ago. He married a nice little girl from Dallas. Her father does something there that makes a lot of money. I think he hopes to move to Galveston as soon as his wife has her baby. It's their first," she said to Felicity. "They're very excited."
Ben Odum was the man who'd asked Felicity to marry him. He'd disappeared when her father lost all his money.
"Please ask your husband to extend my congratulations to Ben and best wishes to his wife and my hopes for a safe delivery," Felicity said. "I'd love to catch up on all the latest news, but my escort has been motioning for me to join him for the last several minutes. Please come visit sometime. We live at the same address."
Felicity escaped before either woman could respond. She refused to let them even guess she was upset or hurt. It was clear she would have to banish any hopes she might have had of picking up with her old friends. That avenue was closed, but she wouldn't let anyone see her hurt. She'd learned to hold her head high and ignore whispers and gossip years ago. She could still do it.
"She didn't believe me," Holt said. "She didn't say I was lying, but she didn't believe me."
They were on their way home, the clip-clop of their horse's shod feet on the sandy street falling like dull thuds in the quiet of the night. The weather had been so warm, Holt had chosen to rent a buggy rather than a closed carriage. Felicity had looked forward to the drive home, to leaving a party she hadn't enjoyed. However stupid it might have been, she'd hoped they might find a way to reach a better understanding between them. The moon was bright, the stars twinkled, only one cloud marred the perfection of the sky, and the breeze from the sea made it the perfect temperature for snuggling.
Only Holt couldn't think of anything but Vivian's not believing him.
"You can't expect Vivian to believe what you said about Mr. diViere without giving her some time to think about it," Felicity said, sighing in defeat. "After all, you were accusing one of her friends of a heinous crime."
"I've known Vivian since she was eleven years old," Holt said. "She ought to realize I would never lie to her."
"It's hard for someone to believe a friend could be capable of such a crime," Felicity said. "She probably just needs time to grow used to the idea."
"She said it didn't matter now if it was true--people did all kinds of awful things during war."
"She was probably just too shocked to be able to accept what you said."
"Why are you defending Vivian?" Holt asked. "I know you don't like her."
Felicity was thankful the darkness shielded her expression from Holt's gaze. She knew she blushed. She could feel the heat in her skin. She was relieved that Holt was occupied with encouraging the particularly stubborn hired horse to turn the corner toward her house rather than go in the direction of his stable.
She wasn't defending Vivian so much as she was trying to soften the blow to Holt. He wasn't just surprised. He was hurt. It was a virtual attack on his character, his integrity, from the one person he'd never expected to doubt him. He didn't always say what people wanted to hear, but he didn't varnish the truth.
"I don't know Vivian well enough to dislike her," she said.
"That's not the feeling I get."
Okay, it was time to tell him what she thought. She didn't expect him to listen to her--he never did--but it didn't look as though he was going to figure it out for himself. "I know it's none of my business, but it worries me that you believe she still loves you. She was a young girl when you knew her, you a wise older man who befriended her. When it came time for her to choose a husband, she chose another man. After he died, she didn't try to find you. She obviously still likes you and values your friendship, but I worry that her feelings for you don't match yours for her."
"You think I'm a romantic fool who's let himself be dazzled by the beauty of a younger woman."
Not quite. He was a rigidly principled idealist who held his beliefs so strongly, he couldn't believe a person he liked could hold a difference set of values.
"Any man would be dazzled by Vivian's beauty. I'm continually astonished by it myself," Felicity said.
"But you're not so astonished you're unable to dislike her."
"I'd rather say I don't know her well enough to trust that she wouldn't unknowingly hurt people who invest more importance in her words than she does."
"Did anyone ever tell you that you're very good with words?"
"I'm usually told that I'm much too blunt."
"Why are you changing now?"
That was a question Felicity needed to answer for herself before she could explain it to him. Why was she trying so hard to protect him? Not because he was weak or prone to getting his feelings hurt. In fact, for a time she believed he didn't have any feelings. Maybe finally accepting what he'd said about her and her father had enabled her to think about him differently. She only knew that while she wanted to shake him for not seeing what was obvious, she wanted just as much to spare him the hurt of what she was certain would be Vivian's ultimate rejection.
"Maybe because I can understand how she could feel so threatened, so insecure, so frightened, that she would refuse to face reality. I can understand how she would build protective walls around herself because I did it myself."
"But you were protecting your father and your means of support. Laveau is practically a stranger to Vivian. He means nothing to her."
"That's not the impression I got."
"What do you mean?"
Chapter Sixteen
Felicity could have bitten her tongue. When would she learn to shut up before she got herself in so deeply her only option was to plunge ahead and hope to escape without too many wounds?
"I don't mean Vivian has done anything wrong," Felicity said. "Mr. diViere is an attractive man. I imagine he can be very charming."
But for the life of her, Felicity couldn't see how Vivian could possibly think Mr. diViere was more handsome than Holt. Laveau was handsome in an aristocratic way that lacked warmth and humanity. His aquiline features appeared predatory rather than merely lean and clean of line. Holt was entirely different. His dark brown hair was straight and neatly combed into place without looking as if it had been lacquered until it shone in the light. Lavea
u's eyes were cold, flat, emotionless. Holt's black eyes, usually so intense, could sparkle with amusement. They could also glow with warmth. His mobile eyebrows were nearly as expressive, drawing close together when he was displeased, rising when he was on the verge of laughter or teasing her. They could also lower ominously when he was angry.
Laveau was tall, but his complexion was sallow and his body soft and paunchy. Holt reminded her of a lithe wild animal. His skin was tanned from working in the sun. His broad, muscled shoulders and long, sinewy arms were the result of compelling cantankerous longhorns to do what they were determined not to do. Felicity couldn't imagine how Vivian could prefer Laveau or any of the other shallow young men who clustered around her. Just thinking about Holt caused Felicity to go all hot inside.
Which wasn't something she wanted to happen. She was acutely aware of every quality that made Holt superior to Laveau and every other man she'd met, but she was determined these qualities wouldn't affect her judgment. Holt might be the perfect man, but he wasn't the man for her.
"Laveau is a devil," Holt said.
Holt's words jolted Felicity out of her thoughts. "You know that because you witnessed the terrible consequences of what he did," she said. "Vivian didn't see that, didn't know anything about it until you told her. He's obviously cultivated a persona that will make it difficult for people to believe your allegations."
"Do you believe me?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "I've seen the evil that men can do. I've also seen the evil they can overlook."
"What are you saying?"
"Vivian doesn't have the same knowledge of Mr. diViere as you do. So she'll never feel the same way about him. She obviously likes him or she wouldn't have come in search of him the minute he entered."
"Unlike me whom she didn't even recognize."
"She hadn't seen you for a long time," Felicity said. "Besides, she had no reason to expect you to be in Galveston. But she was watching for Mr. diViere's arrival tonight."
"I think she was only trying to make him feel welcome."
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