by Jenna Brandt
Once Amelie gathered her dress from the wagon, she made her way upstairs to the designated room at the top of the steps. As she opened the door, she walked inside and looked around. It was a beautiful room, draped in soft white linens and accented by embroidered pink flowers on the bed and also in the vase on the nightstand next to it.
She noticed something laying on top of the bed. Making her way over to it, Amelie’s eyes grew round as she observed the most exquisite golden gown made of pure silk and lace. It had puffed sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. There was also a box next to it and a folded piece of paper with her name on it. Gingerly, Amelie picked it up and opened the letter.
Dear Amelie,
I saw this dress while I was in Oregon City and thought it would look perfect on you. It was shipped over from Paris only two months ago. I couldn’t resist getting it for you. Please do me the honor of wearing it tonight.
In the box, you will find gloves and a fan along with a necklace and earrings to match. Consider them a gift for all the hard work you have done for the mill and this party.
With love,
Mrs. Moore
Amelie made herself hold back the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. Mrs. Moore never ceased to amaze her. Although her dress would have sufficed for the party, it paled in comparison to the magnificent piece of artistry Mrs. Moore had picked out for her.
Lifting the dress up, she walked over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. She held the dress up against her frame. She had never seen or held anything so delicate in all her life. It was simply breathtaking.
Quickly, she undressed out of her work clothes. As she put on the new ball gown, she preceded with caution, making sure not to damage the fine garment. After fastening the gown into place, she put her hair up in an elaborate top-knot with cascading curls down her back. She finished getting dressed, putting on the gold and opal necklace and earrings as well as the gloves.
As she stared at herself in the mirror, she still had a hard time believing all of this was real. She never could have imagined being able to wear such a fancy ensemble. She had no idea how she was going to thank Mrs. Moore enough for giving her such an unexpected and thoughtful gift.
Giving herself one final look in the mirror, Amelie pushed her shoulders back and turned around to head out the door. As she glided down the stairs with her gloved hand on the banister, several of the workers stopped what they were doing. They stared at her with appreciative grins. Apparently, Mrs. Moore did an excellent job at picking out her dress if their reactions were any indication. Blushing from the unanticipated attention, Amelie averted her eyes as she descended the last steps. Before she could make her way into the kitchen, Mrs. Moore came from around the corner of the entry hall.
“Why you look positively marvelous. I just knew this gown was going to look splendid on you the moment I saw it.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Moore. It is beyond anything I could have ever hoped to have for myself. However, I feel like I shouldn’t have accepted it. It’s too much.”
“Nonsense, dear, let an old woman find joy where she can. Besides, you earned the dress in all the wonderful desserts and pastries you deliver to the mill and create for our parties. Your baked goods keep our workers happy at the mill and are always the talk of our gatherings.”
“I still feel like this goes far above what would be appropriate—”
But before she could finish her sentence, Mrs. Moore cut her off. “Let me concern myself with what is appropriate. You focus on having a good time tonight.”
“At the very least, I should head into the kitchen to oversee the placement of the desserts.”
Mrs. Moore reached out and placed her hand on Amelie’s arm. “No need, dear. While you were getting ready, it was all taken care of. All you need to do is wait with me until the first guests arrive.”
Amelie was stunned by Mrs. Moore’s continued thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Mrs. Moore.”
Patting Amelie’s arm, Mrs. Moore stated, “No need to thank me. You deserve every bit of joy you experience tonight.” With a knowing smile, she added, “You never know, you might even get asked to dance by a boy or two.”
Amelie turned her head and looked at the elderly woman with curiosity. Had Mrs. Moore heard about her being pursued by both Matthew and Pierre? She believed she had been discreet in dealing with both men, but it was a small town. It wouldn’t surprise her if most of the town knew what was going on among the three of them.
Before Amelie could ask her about it, Mr. Moore was joining them, saying, “You look lovely tonight, Wife, as do you Miss Leclaire.”
“Thank you, Mr. Moore. I appreciate all you and your wife have done for me.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss Leclaire.”
A knock at the door was heard and the Moores’ butler opened it. It was the McCoy family. Amelie should have known they would be the first to arrive. Pastor McCoy tended to be early to most events because he hated being late for anything.
Mr. and Mrs. McCoy were in front, followed by Debbey and Matthew. They greeted the Moores first and then said “hello” to Amelie. As Debbey reached Amelie, she said in an admiring whisper, “Your dress is fabulous. Wherever did you get it?”
Amelie subtly gestured towards their hosts. “Mrs. Moore surprised me with it today when I brought over the deserts for tonight.”
“How splendid of her to do that for you. She is such a gem.”
“I know. I could hardly believe it.”
“She has always had a soft spot for you, especially because you remind her so much of your mother.”
A sadness crept into Amelie’s heart at the mention of her mother. It must have been evidenced on her face because Debbey quickly stated, “I’m sorry, Amelie. I didn’t mean to upset you by bringing up your mother.”
Amelie shook her head. “I love my mother and I’m glad everyone remembers my parents. I will take the discomfort it causes, if it means they are never forgotten.”
“I think my brother is anxious to see you, and since your time with Pierre has ended, maybe you might want to reconsider Matthew as a potential suitor?”
She could hear the hopefulness in Debbey’s voice. She wished she could make her friend happy by fulfilling her wish for a match. Despite the abrupt end to her and Pierre’s budding relationship, it did not change her mind on the matter of Matthew.
Glancing over at him, Amelie acknowledged to herself Matthew looked dashing in his freshly-pressed dark grey suit, white shirt, and black tie. There was no disputing the fact he was a good-looking man, with his slicked back auburn hair, fair skin, and jade eyes. Even his suit could not disguise the fact he was fit from working at the mill, evidenced by his broad shoulders and toned body.
The problem still remained the type of wife he wanted would never be the sort she could be. If she settled for him, she knew one of two things would happen: she would grow to resent him because he made her give up on her dreams or he would become bitter because she wanted to keep pursuing them. Either result was not what she wanted in a marriage.
As Matthew reached out and took Amelie’s hand in his own, he stated, “I haven’t seen you since the night of the burglary. How are you doing?”
“I am fine. Thank you for asking.”
“I’m not sure why I asked. I should have known you were faring well since I heard you went out with the French fellow the other night.”
Amelie glanced over at Debbey with a frustrated look. How could she tell him? Debbey had to know it wouldn’t go over well.
“Don’t be upset with my sister. She was worried about you since it seems that imbecile turned out to be not what he presented.”
And there was Amelie’s answer. Debbey wanted Matthew to know there was a vacancy in the suitor department again.
“I have a good mind to have some words with him. I told him if he ended up hurting you, I would make him regret it.” Amelie could hear he protectiveness in Matthew’s voice. It was enduring, but misgu
ided.
“Matthew, it is kind of you to want to look out for me, but Mr. Girald did nothing wrong. It turns out we have different ideas about life which cannot be reconciled.”
“I can’t say I am unhappy with the turn of events,” Matthew said with a smirk.
Just then, there was another knock at the door and Amelie heard the door open and the butler say, “Welcome. Mr. Almonbury, Mr. Girald. Please enter.”
Feeling Matthew’s body stiffen from where their hands touched, she worried what was going to happen next. Matthew immediately moved to stand next to her and possessively wrapped his arm around her waist.
She could see the shocked look of disbelief on Pierre’s face as he saw the two of them together in such a familiar position. Amelie wanted to pull away from Matthew’s hold, but before she could, William and Pierre approached them.
True to form, he concealed his surprise before approaching them. “You look stunning tonight, Miss Leclaire. You are a vision of a golden angel in that dress.”
Amelie’s cheeks reddened at the public compliment. She still wasn’t used to receiving them. Pierre had a way of making her feel like she was the center of attention, an unacquainted feeling to be sure.
“Thank you, Mr. Girald.”
Part of her wanted to tell him it was wonderful to see him and she had missed him. She knew under the circumstances it would give the wrong impression. She didn’t want to give him, or herself, any false hope. For the same reason, she chose not to pull away from Matthew’s grasp. It was better if Pierre thought she was unavailable. Perhaps he would hurry and finish his business in West Linn and return to Paris, where he belonged.
She could tell he was waiting for her to say something more. When he did not receive any additional tête-à-tête, he tenderly took her free hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed the top. Even through her glove, she could feel the warmth cascade up and through her arm. There was no denying the attraction between them still lingered; however, it didn’t erase the problems which existed as well.
Gently, she pulled her hand away and said in a dismissive tone, “Do enjoy your evening, Mr. Girald.”
As soon as Pierre was away from them, Amelie pulled away from Matthew and accused, “How dare you try to portray we are together? I have made it clear there is nothing between us more than friendship, and I would greatly appreciate you remembering as much in the future.”
Matthew raised both eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t seem to mind our proximity just a few moments ago. Now, all of sudden, you wish to protest?”
“Because I didn’t want to cause a scene, and because… I…”
Cutting her off, he interjected, “Because you wanted him to think we were together so he would leave you alone.”
“Precisely.”
“Well, I don’t mind if you use me for that respect, as long as it is the only reason.”
“What other reason could there be?”
“There is the possibility you were trying to make him jealous.”
Amelie rocked back on her heels. She hadn’t thought about that. It wasn’t like her to behave in such a manner, and if she had, she was unaware of it.
“I had no idea you thought so little of me, Mr. McCoy. If that is your opinion of my character, I think it irrevocably proves, once-and–for-all, we are ill-suited for one another.” Then with thinly veiled sarcasm, she added, “After all, who would want to be with such a duplicitous woman as that?”
Spinning away, Amelie left the entry foyer and made her way down the hall to the privy. She needed a few minutes to collect her wits before returning to Mrs. Moore’s side to continue greeting guests.
Chapter 11
Pierre had come to the party expecting to win Amelie over and show her he wanted to fix what was broken between them. He had not expected to find her tucked into the arms of the McCoy boy when he walked through the door. It had been all he could do to maintain a civil response when he greeted them instead of thumping the smug boy in the face.
Pierre had watched Amelie for a response, trying to gage whether she was a willing participant. He hoped it was all a charade, but he was unable to decipher what her intent was in allowing that boy to hold her so close.
Immediately, he had entered the large parlor, which had been set up as with tables filled with mounds of hors d'oeuvres, decadent pastries, and several types of punches. Pierre glanced around and looked for the bar. When he didn’t see one, he stopped one of the passing servants and asked, “Pardon, but where might I get a glass of champagne?”
“The Moores don’t partake of cocktails and maintain a temperance of alcohol at all their parties. There are, however, several punches, sun teas, and lemonades. May I get you a glass of one of those?”
Eyeing the table with the beverages, Pierre shook his head. “No need. I am capable of obtaining my own drink.” He had forgotten in some regions of America, a push towards temperance of alcohol had become commonplace. In addition, the Moores were devout Christians, and like many of their faith, it seemed they choose to abstain from alcoholic consumption. Pierre let out a deep exhale. It was going to be a long night indeed if he had to witness the interactions between Amelie and Matthew sober.
Grabbing a glass cup, he scooped two ladles full of the pink punch sitting in the center of the table. He lifted it to his lips and found the drink to be fruity and surprisingly pleasant. It might not take the edge off the night, but at least it tasted good. Of course, he should not expect any less from the keen presentation Mrs. Moore’s standards demanded.
Pierre turned around to watch as new guests entered the room. A few moments later, William escorted Debbey into the area. His friend had a massive smile on his face as he led her over to one of the sets of chairs in the eastern corner of the room. He deposited her there, said something which made Debbey laugh, and then headed over to where Pierre stood by the table.
“Pierre, what are you doing standing over here all by yourself? Why don’t you come join us?”
Pierre peeked over at Debbey, who was intently watching William. There was no way he wanted to interrupt whatever was going on between the two of them. “Thank you for the offer, but you don’t need me as a distraction. You should head back over and continue wooing the charming Miss McCoy.”
After pouring two glasses of punch, William turned and winked at his friend. “I heard from Debbey Amelie was not happy with how Matthew behaved earlier. She reproached him and then took off towards the lavatory. Maybe you should head that way and do some wooing of your own.”
Perhaps he did have a fighting chance after all. If she was not a willing accomplice in the incident earlier, it could mean she still had feelings for him. He just needed a chance to speak with her alone. He wanted to let her know what he had decided to do.
Making his way out of the room, Pierre headed down the side hallway towards the privy. Before he reached it, he stopped and leaned up against the wall, waiting just outside. A few minutes later, he heard the door open and watched as Amelie exit.
From the shadows, he said, “I was hoping to catch you alone for a few minutes.”
Amelie leaped a bit and gasped, as her eyes darted to meet his own. “You startled me, Mr. Girald. I didn’t see you there.”
“I thought we agreed you were going to call me Pierre, at least in private.”
“I think, given how we left our status, it wouldn’t be appropriate any longer.”
“I wanted to talk to you about what we discussed last evening. I should have been more direct about why I have never been to church. My mother was adamantly opposed to religion of any sort, due to her own history with her father. But considering how important it is to you, and how important you have quickly become to me, I think I would rather like to join you tomorrow morning at church.”
“Really?” Amelie asked, as the sparkle returned to her eyes.
“Yes. I find your faith intriguing and I want to understand it.”
Reaching out, Amelie placed her hand o
n his arm, saying, “Pierre, that is so wonderful. I am so glad to hear it.”
“Can I escort you back to the party?”
Nodding her head, she answered, “I would love it.”
Guiding her back into the room, Pierre noticed the room had quickly filled with most of the townspeople. As Amelie and Pierre headed over to where William and Debbey sat, the other couple stood as they approached.
“It seems you took my advice,” William stated with mirth.
“Indeed I did, friend. Can we join you?”
“Certainly,” Debbey said with a smile.
Just then, the Moores entered the room making their way into the center. “Welcome honored friends. We are so glad to have all of you join us tonight as we celebrate the restoration of our wonderful town of West Linn. The flood and fire nearly destroyed our precious town, but we chose to stay and rebuild, investing in the future of this great place. All of you are a part of this, and we are so glad to call you neighbors,” Mr. Moore looked around the room, nodding at several people. “Business partners,” he nodded towards a few other people, including William and Pierre, “and friends.” A thunderous applause was heard around the room before Mr. Moore finished speaking. “Please, partake of these early offerings and converse amongst yourselves. Supper will be served in a half hour in the next room.”
Pierre turned to the group next to him and said, “The Moores really toss a splendid party.”
Debbey responded, “The whole town looks forward to it every year.”
Turning to Amelie, Pierre asked, “May I get you some refreshments, Amelie? Perhaps a glass of punch? The pink one is rather delightful.”
She smiled at him, replying, “I am a bit parched. I think a cup of punch would be refreshing.”
Glancing down at their cups, Pierre stated, “William, it looks as though Debbey’s glass is empty. Would you care to go with me?”
William picked up the subtle cue and nodded in agreement, saying, “I will be back momentarily, Debbey.”