by Jenna Brandt
Her mother had brought over a large trunk full of clothes from France, some of the few things her mother had from her old life back in Paris. Amelie remembered watching her mother gently stitching the corners of dresses, which had begun to fray, and tenderly replacing buttons on each piece as they became loose.
The second dress from the right was Amelie’s favorite. It was a deep burgundy dress in satin, with a full bottom skirt, with tucks and folds, which cascaded down in a waterfall display. It had a high collar in the front, with tiny rows of satin buttons from the top of the back to the end of the waist. It was utterly breathtaking and it had been the last dress her mother wore at Christmas, right before she passed away.
Amelie reached out and pulled the garment free from the hanger. Rather than put the work of art on, she lifted the edge of it to her face. When the sudden honeysuckle scent of her mother filled her senses, the same fragrance she thought she would never smell again, it proved too difficult to handle. Without warning, tears spilled out from Amelie’s eyes and the more she tried to stop the crying, the deeper the weeping became.
Her entire body began to be racked by sobs, her knees began to buckle, and she felt herself slipping towards the ground. Her back met the edge of the wardrobe next to the closet. She allowed her body to collapse against it as she tumbled to the floor.
Debbey found Amelie curled up in the corner of the room, with her mother’s dress crumpled in her arms, soaked through by tears. Debbey didn’t say a word, but instead sat down next to Amelie and soothingly wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulder.
“I should’ve known it would be too much for you to try to wear one of your mother’s dresses. I was so stupid to even suggest it.”
After a few moments, Amelie insisted, “It wasn’t your fault. I was thinking the same thing. I know she would have wanted me to use them, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
“It’s alright. We can figure something else out. Besides, if Pierre really cares for you the way I think he does, he won’t care what you’re wearing.”
Once Amelie was able to get her emotions under control, she went to her room and glanced through her clothes. She had one dress in her closet which would work. Reluctantly, she pulled out the soft, pink, muslin dress. It was pretty, but not overly sophisticated. She suspected Pierre would be used to his dinner companion wearing the echelon of fashion. It frustrated her she wouldn’t be able to wear something of similar style. However, there was a simple beauty about the garment which would have to do.
She finished putting on her dress, stockings, and shoes and placed her hair up in a French twist. She didn’t have any jewelry to wear, since everything besides her mother’s brooch and earrings had been taken in the burglary. She supposed she could wear her mother’s pearl earrings and they would at least add some refinement to her attire. She grabbed her shawl and beaded purse and went downstairs where Debbey was waiting for her.
“Oh, my, Amelie, you look splendid! I forgot all about your pink dress.”
“Not surprising. I’ve hardly worn it. It seems overly lavish for church, and even when I was staying in San Francisco I never went to social gatherings. When I turned eighteen, my mother insisted I have a fancier dress, in hopes one day I would meet someone for whom I would want to wear it.”
“And now you have. Pierre is going to be astounded when he sees you in that dress.”
Amelie smiled at her friend. “Thank you, Debbey. You look lovely in your dress as well.”
Just then Amelie could hear a carriage pull up outside her house. It must be Pierre since he told her he would be picking her up at half past seven and it was almost time. She rushed towards the door and forced herself to wait for the knock.
A few moments later, the rapping came. Amelie pulled the door open with a happy grin on her face, which faltered when she realized it was not Pierre and William. Instead, on the other side stood her aunt.
A sour expression was on her aunt’s face, which deepened as she critically scanned Amelie up and down. “Where do you think you are going, young lady, dressed like that?”
Amelie glanced down at her dress. Until a few moments ago she had felt pleased with her choice, considering her circumstances. Why did her aunt always have to make her feel so inadequate?
“Debbey and I were invited out to dinner.”
“And who might have offered this invitation?”
Knowing her aunt wouldn’t like the answer, Amelie braced herself for her aunt’s hostile reaction. “Mr. Girald and Mr. Almonbury.”
With an irritated sigh her aunt asked, “Aren’t you going to invite me in so we can discuss this matter? Or are you going to leave me standing out here in the elements?”
Amelie repressed the desire to laugh. There were no elements to speak of, considering it was a warm summer evening with not a cloud in the sky. Choosing not to comment on her aunt’s exaggeration, Amelie relented, “Come in, Aunt Marcella, but we will be leaving shortly.”
“I dislike I am being made to feel not welcomed.”
“It wasn’t my intent, I assure you. What are you doing here? We didn’t have any plans this evening.”
“I heard Elise was staying with the Wilcox girl again tonight. I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to discuss the matter of Elise moving to France with me; however, now it seems there are more pressing issues to address concerning your plans for the evening.”
Ignoring her aunt’s second point Amelie focused on the first topic hoping to distract her aunt from criticizing Pierre again. “I thought I already made it clear Elise moving with you was not an option. Her home is here, with me.”
“It used to be, but the truth is, Amelie, you cannot provide for the girl the way she needs. You are struggling just to keep the bakery running, and I heard about the incident here a few days ago. What if those ruffians had broken in here while you were home? Think what could have happened without a man present to protect you. As it is, I heard one of them nearly managed to harm you.”
“But he didn’t, and I’m fine. It could’ve happened to anyone in town.”
“Unless those ruffians found out you and your sister lived here alone and knew there was no possibility of a threat.”
Amelie hadn’t thought of the possibility the men knew the sisters were defenseless. A shudder surged down her back. Would they come back if they did indeed know Amelie and Elise were vulnerable? Maybe she should get a gun. Her father had always been against guns in the home but having one was starting to sound rather beneficial at the moment.
“I appreciate your concern, Aunt Marcella, but I have it under control.”
“It does not seem so, Amelie. Elise needs more stability than what you are providing her.”
“She has all of us as well, Miss Orelle, and we would never let anything happen to either Elise or Amelie,” Debbey insisted.
“And how did they fair under your protection the other day may I ask you, Miss McCoy?”
Before either Amelie or Debbey could argue the point, Pierre and William were at the front door.
William greeted them. “Good evening, ladies. Are we interrupting? I thought the agreed upon time was half past seven?”
“It was and we are ready, Mr. Almonbury. My aunt was just leaving,” Amelie asserted.
She could tell her aunt was not pleased about their dinner plans with the men, but she refused to allow her to ruin anything else in her life.
Her aunt leaned towards her and hissed, “I thought I told you to stay away from this man.”
“You did and I decided you were misinformed. Not only was he the person responsible for saving me the other day, but he also intervened when a man put his hands on me at the bakery today.”
“That is precisely why you need to sell that ridiculous place and go back to school. I am more than willing to pay for the rest of your education. I can take Elise to France, and when you are finished with your learning, you can join us.”
“I am perfectly fine at t
he bakery and I will hear no more about selling it. It’s my parents’ legacy and I refuse to part with it.”
Amelie wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and walked out the door. On the other side, she waited for everyone to exit before she secured the newly fixed lock and placed the key in her clutch.
Still trying to assert her will, Amelie’s aunt demanded, “Amelie, you cannot go to dinner unattended with two bachelors. It is unseemly.”
“I am not alone. Debbey will be with us.”
“She is also unwed and unattended. It will not do,” her aunt insisted. But before Amelie could argue the matter, she heard Pierre offer, “You are more than welcome to attend dinner with us Miss Orelle.”
For the first time, her aunt seemed completely dumbfounded. Her mouth gaped open and she blinked several times before she nodded in approval.
Pierre reached out and gently placed his hand under Amelie’s elbow as he guided her to his carriage. He helped her in, then William did the same for Debbey, and finally Pierre reached out to help Amelie’s aunt. Once the women were situated, the men joined them in the carriage.
As they headed down the road and out of West Linn, Amelie was shocked at the turn of events. She had been looking forward to a pleasant evening with good friends and the man she was beginning to see a possible future with, but instead, they were all going to have to put up with her intolerable aunt for the evening. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 9
It was obvious from the way Miss Orelle had glared at Pierre she did not like him. Her excuses for her disdain did not ring true. He had always conducted himself with discretion and class when it came to women. What bothered him about her opinion of him was she presumed to know his character even though she had never met him while they were both living in Paris. A few photos in the paper did not say enough about who he was for her to conclude he was not good enough for Amelie.
He had not planned on asking her to join them, but when he saw his night with Amelie slipping away, he invited Miss Orelle out of necessity. But as he watched her across the carriage, fussing with her reticle and complaining about the bumpy road, he was already regretting his impulsive decision.
Annoyed by the woman, he shifted his observation to Amelie. Instantly, he felt more at ease, just at the sight of her. He thought back to how it felt to have his hand touch her bare skin for the first time. It was habit to escort her in such a way, but when he touched her, his reaction was electrifying. Her skin felt like the softest silk, and as he walked beside her, he almost become dizzy from her intoxicating scent. Her fragrance of jasmine hung on her and he could still smell it in the carriage. He knew it was a scent he would never be able to forget. It even rivaled the aroma of her bakery, which seemed nearly impossible.
“With all of the commotion earlier, I did not have the chance to mention how exquisite you look this evening, Amelie.”
Pierre noticed the deep red blush, which surfaced as a result of his compliment. He smiled as he added, “Pink is an exceptionally flattering color on you.”
“She looks good in every color. She is lucky in that regard,” Debbey commented.
William piped in saying, “You look just as fetching in your gorgeous, green gown Debbey. It makes your sumptuous hair stand out even more beautifully, if that is at all possible.”
Giggling, Debbey shook her head as she reddened from the compliment, causing several of her red curls, which were pinned up in a loose bun, to fall down around her face.
“See there, you made yourself even more gorgeous.”
Pierre smiled as he watched his friend. William was truly smitten. He had never seen his friend this way before with a woman. Pierre had assumed he would be a confirmed bachelor all of his life as he was a second son of a viscount and did not need to marry or produce an heir. Seeing him this way with Miss McCoy, he believed his friend was not only spoken for but would soon be walking down the aisle.
His eyes flickered across the carriage and he allowed his gaze to return to Amelie. There was something about the woman which pulled him to her in a way he could not explain. It was not her beauty, although she was exquisite with her golden-brown hair, mesmerizing blue eyes and tall, willowy frame. It was something deeper, something in the way she carried herself, the inner strength she possessed, which continually made him want to pursue her.
The only other woman he had ever felt that way about before was Margaret. It puzzled him why this woman, out of all the women he had ever met and known over the years, had the same effect on him. Margaret and Amelie were nothing alike. From their appearance to their personalities to their upbringing, they were quite different women, but he knew there must be something he could not pinpoint which made him feel about both of them in such a way.
Startled out of his contemplation, Pierre heard William exclaim, “We are here, everyone.”
Pierre glanced out the window and nodded in approval. They were indeed at their destination. After they came to a stop, the men descended from the carriage first and extended their hands to help the women down.
Debbey’s eyes were on William, but Pierre noticed Amelie was staring intently at the French restaurant in front of them. From the sudden appearance of paleness, as well as the sadness which filled her eyes, Pierre knew Amelie was upset.
“I can tell something is amiss. What is the matter?”
In a small voice, she replied, “This is the restaurant my father took me to since I was a child. Whenever we had to come to purchase supplies for the bakery, he would bring me along and treat me to dinner.”
“I am sorry I have upset you. We can go somewhere else. I hear there is an excellent restaurant further up First Street.”
“What do you mean? This place looks adequate. Amelie needs to learn not to be so sentimental. Why should we have to suffer because of her?”
Pierre refused to acknowledge Miss Orelle because he worried if he did, he would say something he would regret. Instead, he gently placed his hand under Amelie’s elbow and tried to guide her away from the restaurant, but she was not budging.
“No, you were right to bring me here. I want to stay.”
“Are you certain? I want to make sure you are comfortable.”
She nodded and looked at him. “You picked the perfect place. I love it here.”
This time, when he tried to guide her forward, he was met with no resistance. As they entered the restaurant, the maître d’ exclaimed, “Good evening, Monsieur Girald. We are pleased to have you with us again tonight.”
Proudly, the French host led them over to a table already set for a party of four. Pierre had wired over directions from the inn in West Linn, but he had not anticipated the addition of Amelie’s aunt. However, the maître d’ was exceptionally good at his job and before anyone had to say a word, two workers appeared from around the corner bringing with them a fifth place setting and chair.
The maître d pulled out the chair for Miss Orelle while Pierre did the same for Amelie. As she gracefully sat down, he effortlessly pushed in her chair, then purposefully let his hand graze the back of her neck. Apparently, she noticed it because her eyes flickered up to look at him. He greeted her sparkling blue eyes with his most charming grin, and it had its intended effect as she returned it with her own captivating smile. It was all he could do not to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her. For a moment, he faltered, fighting the urge to do just that.
As he sat down next to her, he grabbed the menu from the table and focused on it. What kind of power did she have over him? He felt like an idiot adolescent around her and he never felt that way, not even when he was one.
Despite the unexpected dinner guest, the meal passed with relative enjoyment. Pierre attributed the reason to the fact Amelie was an excellent dinner companion. She was both pleasant to look at and talk to, which kept Pierre from focusing on Miss Orelle’s obvious irritation at how well the two of them were getting along.
The woman clearly did not want to be at the restaur
ant, let alone in America, which made him wonder what her true agenda was with the Leclaire sisters. From the way she treated them, he doubted she was staying in town due to family devotion. Perhaps he should have one of his investigators look into the woman to figure out why she was here.
“Mr. Girald, I am still at a loss as to why you are in Oregon. From what I know of you, you have enough interests in Europe to keep you from needing to venture into the American frontier,” Miss Orelle accused.
Pierre raised his eyebrows in contemplation. The woman never ceased to shock him. She was not afraid to speak her mind, despite how uncouth it was to do so. “Generally, I do not discuss my business dealings with ladies present. If it will put your mind at ease, Miss Orelle, I came with Lord Almonbury, per his request, in order to examine whether I would like to invest in the Willamette Falls Mill and potentially the Willamette Falls Locks navigational system. As it happens, I had been exploring the possibility of expanding into the new country ever since my father passed away several years ago, prompting me to take over the management of the family holdings. When the opportunity arose, I seized the chance to come and find out if Mr. Moore’s projects would be a good fit.”
Miss Orelle sniffed as she questioned, “And have you made a decision?”
“Indeed, I have. I have grown to admire Mr. Moore’s enterprises, as well as the town of West Linn itself, and I plan to invest in both projects.”
Unsatisfied with his answer, she continued to probe. “Do you plan to return to France once you have concluded your business dealings?”
Tired of the third degree, Pierre stated with exasperation, “I have not decided when I will be returning to France.”
“I would assume you need to get back to your responsibilities in Paris, do you not?”
“There is a lot to be done regarding both projects. I find myself wanting to stay in Oregon for a gambit of reasons, with new ones cropping up all the time,” he answered, as he stared at Amelie meaningfully.
Pierre noticed Amelie glanced away but not before a smile crossed her sumptuous mouth. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss those lush lips. If merely touching her skin could send him reeling, he suspected a kiss would surpass anything he could imagine. That alone made him want to stick around West Linn, just for the chance to find out.