Into the Woods (17 page)

Matilda dropped to her knees and opened the chest carefully. There was probably nothing here suitable to wear to the Founders' Day Celebration, nothing pretty enough to dance and flirt in, but since she had no other options but her usual plain clothing, she felt like she should at least look. She was not going to give up so easily, no matter how tempting the idea was at the moment.

There was a white Bible on top, a baby's quilt and a few tiny clothes, and the yellowed wedding dress. She moved them all aside, lifting the wedding gown carefully and setting it on the floor. Beneath the silk, lacy dress was a small box containing the few pieces of jewelry her grandmother had owned: a cameo and an opal ring, a silver pin shaped like a bird, and a pair of dangly opal earrings. Matilda set them aside and looked at the dresses on the bottom of the chest.

There were two gowns here, dresses she had never seen her grandmother wear. There had been a time, she knew, when her granny had tried to fit in, to be a proper wife. The wedding gown attested to that; it was elaborate and elegant. The gowns at the bottom of the chest were simpler, one the palest buttery yellow and the other a soft minty green. She pulled the yellow one out and spread it across the floor.

Yes, it was years out of fashion, but there was still something enchanting about the gown. High waisted and more narrow in the skirt than was fashionable, it had a quaint quality to it. A fine lace overlay adorned the bodice and the sleeves, but other than that, the dress was plain. Elegantly plain, in Matilda's opinion. She fingered the fabric, finding it in excellent shape.

These gowns were more to her liking than Stella's fancy silk dresses. But would Declan like them as well? She pulled the yellow bodice up and laid it over her torso, covering her legs with the skirt, lifting a sleeve with one hand, and holding the scooped neckline in place to see if it might be too low cut. It might not be fashionable or fancy, but she liked the way the gown looked and felt, and she liked the fact that this dress had once been worn by her grandmother. At the moment, she felt like Granny was with her, in this very room, telling her not to be afraid.

A small smile crossed Matilda's face. She couldn't worry about what Declan would think about her choice of clothing. If he was half the man she thought he was, he'd see the woman inside the dress, not the trappings of silk and ruffles.

But was she, once again, hoping for too much from him?

* * *

It hadn't been easy to stay away from Matilda all week, but it was for the best, he knew. If he went after her like a panting dog he'd scare her off and never make her his mistress. Best to take this seduction slow and easy.

Today would be tricky, at best. His relationship with Matilda would have to be discreet, something just for the two of them; especially after he married Vanessa. He could not ignore Matilda today, but neither could he indicate to those watching that he was courting her. Perhaps he should not have asked her to attend the celebration, but the idea of dancing with her was too tempting.

He had been one of the first to arrive, but then there was nothing to keep him at home, in that vast old plantation house with room after empty room. His lack of affection for his new home didn't concern him. After all, it was just a house, a too-empty building. Once he was married it would be a warmer place. Vanessa would see to that. That was, after all, a wife's duty.

One by one, on horseback, by wagon, and on foot, people began to arrive. Boring speeches by town leaders were to be held at a stand at the north end of the main street, and games had been set up for the children. There were pies lined up on a table by the church, the early entries in the pie contest, and the cafe had set up a table to sell fried pies and little cakes. People laughed and talked in voices just a touch too loud.

The festive air was dampened somewhat by talk about the lack of rain. The drought had not yet reached a disastrous level. If it rained good and hard in the next couple of weeks, the farmers and the wells would be fine. But if it didn't rain soon, Tanglewood was looking at an economic crisis that would last for months, maybe even years.

Declan stood restlessly in the shadows of the boardwalk. His eyes kept drifting uneasily toward the southward road, looking for Matilda. He imagined she'd arrive in her usual calico skirt and white blouse and pigtails, carrying a basket with a pie for the contest and more sweets for Mr. Fox. She'd say she'd only come to town to deliver the sweets, but he'd convince her to stay, if need be.

A rough wagon came into view from that road, a man and two women on the seat, two familiar fair heads in the wagon bed behind. It took him a long moment before he realized that one of the women on the seat was Matilda.

Her hair was not in pigtails, it had been styled elegantly atop her head. A few waving tendrils floated to her shoulders. Her dress was a very pale yellow, and the neckline was low enough to offer a view of skin she did not normally reveal, but not so low as to be scandalous. The wagon came to a stop, the driver set the brake, and then the man disembarked to assist the ladies. His wife, a handsome woman in bright pink whom Declan had seen once in the general store, left the wagon first, and then the man assisted Matilda from the wagon.

Declan stepped behind a wide post, hiding and watching, not quite ready to reveal himself. Matilda looked like a fairy stepping from the pages of a book, a woman not of this earth. She looked as if she might fly away at the drop of a hat. Her dress was not elaborate, like many of the others that graced the street today, it was not bright or ostentatious or fashionably eye-catching. But it was lovely and somehow suited her. No frills, no flounces, that was Matilda Candy.

He thought about going to her immediately and telling her how exquisite she looked today, but thought better of it. Like it or not, he could not spend the entire day following Matilda around, mooning over her, making his desires obvious to her and everyone else in Tanglewood.

At least she would not be lonely. The woman she traveled with stayed close as they walked toward the festivities, and the twins were at their heels. Since Matilda had expressed reservations about coining to this event, though, he really should spend some time with her, make her feel as if she belonged here as much as anyone else. It would not do for her to feel alone, not today when she looked so damn beautiful.

Really should spend time with her? Who was he kidding? How could he possibly stay away?

She whispered to her friend, then lifted her head and trained her eyes down the street. Looking for him, perhaps? He made himself smaller behind the post. A moment to compose himself, that's all he needed.

Matilda searched the crowds, her eyes narrowed, and then she smiled so widely her entire face lit up. She stepped away from her friend quickly, lifting her skirt slightly to make her step less impeded. She was almost directly in front of him, just a few feet away, when she spoke.

"Ezra," she said, her smile widening as she quickened her step. "My goodness, I had no idea you'd be here!"

Declan turned his head slowly to see a man who hurried down the middle of the street toward Matilda. He had longish brown hair and stepped quickly in her direction. He was a man some women might possibly find handsome, if they went for the boyish, slender, pretty-faced type. Declan looked beyond the young man for an older gent, a gray-haired merchant who asked Matilda to marry him when he came to town. He continued searching until the long-haired pretty boy threw his arms around Matilda and lifted her off her feet.

"Look at you!" he said, laughing as he twirled her around. "You're downright gorgeous."

She was laughing with him when he set her on her feet. "And I have shoes," she said, lifting her skirt to show off a pair of feminine, burnished shoes on dainty feet.

"If I'd known you'd developed a liking for shoes," the man said with a wink as he took her hand, "I would've brought you a hundred pairs."

This was Ezra Cotter? The merchant who regularly asked Matilda to be his wife, the one she jokingly said might father her twelve children? Impossible. Inconceivable. Unthinkable.

Discretion be damned. Declan stepped from behind the post that had concealed him to that point and headed straight for Matilda with a scowl on his face.

* * *

She should've attended all the past Founders' Day Celebrations, Matilda thought as she lifted her head to listen to the mayor talk about the way Tanglewood had prospered in the past thirty years. The speech was rather dull, but she pretended to pay attention. Her mind was definitely elsewhere.

Declan stood on her right, arms crossed over his chest, a hint of a frown on his face. Ezra stood at her left, an amused smile flitting now and then across his wide mouth, as if he were on the verge of laughing out loud. Both men had behaved in a proprietary manner since they'd met on the street and grudgingly shaken hands. Neither of them seemed inclined to leave her side.

While it was nice to have her good friend Ezra on one side and the man she loved on the other, there was a less enjoyable aspect to this trip. She hadn't been here an hour yet, and already she could see the division she caused among the other celebrants. Those she knew well, Mr. Fox, Stella, Ezra, and Declan, and a few others, treated her with kindness and openly expressed friendship.

But there were others who were not so glad to see her here. The minister, the man who ran the saloon, Henry Langford, and his pals Reggie and Wendell—they all glared at her with open hostility. A few mothers steered their children away from her as she walked down the street, as if to come too close to the witch would be disastrous. Even Seth Hazelrig occasionally glanced at her with apparent suspicion.

Ezra leaned slightly to the side. "You really are gorgeous, Matty," he whispered. "Let's sneak away from this dull as ditchwater mayor and get married."

She grinned at his preposterous jest. "Today? Why, I haven't a proper gown," she said jokingly. She cut her eyes up to him. Ezra was a very handsome man, with honey-colored hair he wore too long. He stood almost six feet tall, and was thinner than Declan but not what one would call skinny. His best feature was his gray eyes; they were constantly laughing.

What she liked best about Ezra was that he didn't care that people called her a witch. Nor did he ask her if the rumors were true. He'd once said she could cast a spell on him anytime, then he'd winked at her and changed the subject.

Of course, she did not take his flirting seriously. It was his nature to tease, to have fun with everyone he met. He probably had a dozen girls in Mississippi that he regularly asked to marry him. It was amazing to her that not one of them had yet said yes.

"At the very least," he said in a lowered voice, "let's slip away from your chaperon and have a little fun." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned.

Declan leaned across her to whisper to Ezra. "Do you mind? Some of us are trying to listen to the mayor." He narrowed his eyes. "And I am not Matilda's chaperon."

Ezra shrugged his shoulders and seemingly returned his attention to the mayor. Declan, obviously proud of himself for silencing Ezra, straightened his spine and lifted his chin.

Ezra placed his hand casually at the small of Matilda's back. The move was so unexpected she jumped a little. He didn't remove his hand, even when Declan glared at him so hard Matilda could almost feel the heat.

Matilda looked down at the toes of her bronze shoes and stifled a smile. She, who had never really had a suitor, was caught in the middle of two males posturing for her attention. She should be horrified and embarrassed, but to be honest she enjoyed the attention.

Declan took her arm and very gently pulled her away from Ezra and through the mass of people. "I feel the need for some lemonade," he said as they wound their way to the back of the crowd. "Are you thirsty?"

"A little," she confessed.

From directly behind her, Ezra added a cheery, "Me, too! A glass of lemonade sounds grand right about now."

Declan glanced over his shoulder and scowled.

* * *

Vanessa purposely arrived late, planning her entrance carefully. She'd step from the carriage, her hand in Johnny's, and all heads would turn in her direction. All the men's heads, that is. It barely mattered what the women noticed or thought.

Declan would come directly to her, of course. She would maintain her cool demeanor, but she would bestow upon him an encouraging smile or two. She might even lay her hand on his arm, while he looked at her lovingly. Perhaps he would be encouraged enough to propose marriage this afternoon, or this evening as they danced.

She would have to dance with others, of course, but she imagined Declan would watch her with sad eyes as she turned about the dance floor on the arms of other men. Perhaps his jealousy would spur that proposal of marriage.

The carriage came to a halt, and she smoothed the skirt of her periwinkle gown and touched a hand to her perfectly arranged hair. She pinched her cheeks for color, and straightened her back so her bosom was shown to its full advantage. When Johnny opened the door, she rose gracefully from her seat and took his offered hand. Before she left the carriage, she gave him a wickedly promising smile. By the time she stepped into the sunlight her face was perfectly expressionless.

She opened the parasol that matched her gown and allowed her eyes to adjust to the bright light. Declan would be easy to find even in this crowd; he was so tall and masculine, so charismatic. Perhaps she would not find herself completely adverse to sharing his bed, once they were married. Two adoring lovers would surely be more wonderful than one.

She did see Declan, but he was not watching for her arrival as she'd assumed he would be. In fact, no one was watching her but Henry Langford and those two moronic friends of his.

Declan had his back to her, as he and another handsome man hovered over something... or someone.

"It looks as if your intended's interests lie elsewhere today," Johnny whispered.

"Shut up," she hissed. "And don't speak to me in public! Someone might see you."