Indigo Page 28
"What are you thinking, petite?''
"I was reminiscing on our first few days together and how very awful you were to me."
He gave her a small smile. "But you nursed me back to health in spite of my manners."
"Lucky for you," she quipped.
"I am thankful every day, believe me."
Their eyes held under the flame of the candles on the table. Hester had donned a thin summer robe while he removed his coat but still wore the soiled clothing. He ran his eyes over her body so temptingly displayed beneath the gauzy gown. Her dark nipples were like veiled jewels. "I'm going to go make quick use of the tub to loosen this grime. When I'm done, we'll refill it for our bath."
Hester shivered in sensual anticipation as he disappeared inside the room.
He called her in a short time later. She'd spent the time alone remembering the other times he'd pleasured her and how overwhelming it had been. When she reentered the room, she was already pulsing with need. Her nipples had puckered, her skin tingling from his imagined touch, and her core had begun to blossom just from the thought of the sensual delights he would bestow.
He awaited her inside the candle-lit room, tall, nude, and lushly ready. The sight of his strong desire for her gave her pause.
"It's much harder for a man to mask his need than a woman."
"So I see," she replied lightly.
He threw back his dark head and laughed, "You're learning your mistress lines well, ma coeur."
"Thank you."
"Now come sit in the tub with me so I can soak away the many hours on horseback."
Hester fought her shyness and crossed the room buoyed by her own spiraling desire. In the tub she leaned back against his chest and let herself be enfolded by his arms and warm, hard thighs. She could feel his manhood pressing solidly against her back. The tub was large enough for them to be quite comfortable. She cuddled closer. "Is everything you own so large?"
He rubbed himself against her gently. "What do you think?" he asked slyly.
She couldn't suppress her chuckle. "You are such an arrogant, audacious man. I was speaking of the tub, not your—endowment. Do you even know the definition of humility?"
"There's not much call for that where I hail from."
"Now that I believe. I was referring to your possessions: your bed, carriage, home. Everything about you is grand."
"I'm a grand man."
He nudged her again meaningfully and she playfully smacked him across the arm. "Behave," she scolded.
He brushed his mouth against her collarbone and whispered against her skin, "If I behave you'll miss this..."
He touched his fingers to the already ripe buds of her breasts and worried them slowly. She arched in response.
"...and, this..."
The hands slid down over her wet torso and waist. Once they journeyed below the water they dallied over the treasure between her thighs. He repeated the lazy, lingering caresses again and again, up and down. Her hips were rising temptingly in response to the uninhibited erotic play until she finally succumbed to a shuddering release.
Galen's need to love her fully overrode his need to soak away the muscle aches brought on by his long, arduous journey. He'd thought of nothing but her during the entire time he'd been away.
He paid scant attention to the water that cascaded onto the floor as he carried her from the tub to his bed. He placed her on her back atop the mattress and used the trailing edges of the sheet to dry her neck and the upper planes of her breasts. He performed his task gently, lingering over the dewy nipples and the damp hair crowning her thighs.
Hester warmed and preened in response to his ministrations. When she was dried to his satisfaction, he eased her onto her stomach. He spent an inordinate time moving the sheet over her spine and shoulders, then down over her hips. He teased her, stroked her, cajoled her, until her thighs parted just enough. The expert touch of his caressing hand replaced the sheet and heat flared from Hester's head to her toes. He prepared her well; so well, she was fairly burning for him by the time he eased her onto her back and filled her without a sound. He rode her slowly at first, savoring her warmth and the look in her eyes, but soon, slow was not enough. Wave after wave of sensual pleasure rolled him on a rollicking passion-tossed sea, making his strokes longer, fuller, making him grip her hips as she met him measure for measure. He wanted to stay inside her like this for an eternity. As the orgasm exploded, he dropped his head back and roared out his release.
Later, much later, as the first rosy tendrils of dawn began to creep into the sky, the sated lovers lay entwined and tangled in the bedding, still touching, still stealing long, lush kisses, but too tired to accomplish much more.
"So, you will be my mistress?" he asked softly, slowly tracing her kiss-swollen lips.
Hester sensually flicked her tongue across his fingertip. "Yes. I would be inconsolable if you shared your grandness with another."
He chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "A jealous mistress?"
"Extremely, so be warned."
He kissed her fully, unable to get enough of her softness, and pledged, "Don't fret. If we are discreet, my wife will never suspect."
She stared at him with wide, laughing eyes. "Beast!" she accused and punched him on the shoulder. "You'd better pray your wife doesn't find out. I know her— she'll feed you arsenic if you so much as contemplate having another woman."
"Then I am thankful both mistress and wife are one and the same."
Hester kissed him again. "So am I."
Hester cuddled close and he enfolded her with his warmth. He kissed the top of her head. "We're going to do well together, you and I."
"I believe you may be right," came her whispered reply.
A few ticks of the clock later, they were both asleep.
Chapter 19
Hester awakened the next morning to the sounds of Maxi setting out her breakfast, and asked groggily, "What time is it?"
Maxi pointed over to the small decorative clock on the stand beside the bed. Hester raised up to peer at it and blinked in astonishment. In two hours it would be noon! "Why did you let me sleep so late?" she asked, rolling from the bed.
"Galeno said you needed the rest."
"But heavens, look at the time."
"In New Orleans this is considered early morning for a woman of the class."
"We aren't in New Orleans, Maxi. This is god-fearing, early-rising Michigan. Galen must think I'm the laziest woman in creation."
After Maxi's departure, Hester washed up in the small hip bath, then hastily got dressed. She couldn't remember ever being so late in rising, and vowed never to be caught this way again; such lying about had to be detrimental to the soul.
Hester made quick work of the buttons on her thin white blouse. Her intent this morning had been to approach Galen with her idea for a fundraising fair to be held on the Folly grounds. With her luck something had come up and he'd been called away on another Black Daniel quest. She wolfed down her breakfast, then quickly left the suite to search out her husband.
She ran across Andre Renaud on his way to a business appointment in town. He informed her that Galen could be found in the study.
Hester knocked tentatively upon the closed study door because she'd no idea whether Galen entertained interruptions when he worked.
Evidently he didn't mind because he bid her to enter and greeted her appearance with a smile. "Good morning, wife," he said, eyes glowing. "I didn't want to disturb you when I awakened earlier. How was your sleep?"
The passion of last night flashed across her memory. "My sleep was brief, as you are undoubtedly aware."
"How may I be of service?"
"I'd like to speak with you."
Galen's handsome face took on a look of mock disappointment. "Only talk? I had in mind a service far more stimulating."
Hester chuckled even as his words touched her senses. "I know, but contain yourself, if you can."
"And suppose I cannot...?"
Galen blinked. His arousal rose hard and true in response to her heated challenge. She played the mistress well, he thought to himself, very well. "Lock the door and step over here, shameless indigo woman."
Hester complied and took a slow walk over to where he stood waiting. The initial kisses relit last night's still smoldering embers, and before long they were both plunged back into the storm. Neither suffered any guilt from the papers and inkwells and pens that went crashing to the floor as he laid her atop his desk. Hester was too busy swooning from having her drawers stripped down her legs and Galen was too intent upon turning her swoons into soft, breathless gasps.
Hester knew her passionate keening could probably be heard outside the locked door, but mistresses weren't supposed to care about things like that, so she didn't either. All she cared about was his passionate teasing and how lush and open she became as a result.
Galen slid himself into paradise and knew he'd never be able to work at this desk again, without remembering their lovemaking. He'd see her beautiful face tightened with passion, her breasts bared by the undone blouse, and want her beneath him just as he had her now, stroking her splendidly.
It had been a swift, carnal interlude that left Hester absolutely breathless. She raised up from the desk, pulsing, clothes twisted. He stood above her smiling, eyes glittering with dragon fire at the sight of her leaning back on her arms with her skirts raised above her slightly parted thighs and her nipples tempting him from within her gaping blouse.
She whispered softly, "You are entirely too outrageous for your own good, Galen Vachon."
When he recommenced dallying delicately with the damp, swollen place between her thighs, her head dropped back and she forgot whatever else she'd been about to say.
His voice was as gentle as his touch. "You were the one tossing about saucy challenges...mistress mine."
The heat began to spread again, soft and warm.
"Look at me, petite..."
Hester fought to focus through the luscious haze.
"Now...what did you wish to talk about...?"
Hester wondered if he really expected her to answer. When next he raised his damp fingers to her breasts she once again lost the power of speech. When his warm mouth closed around the closest bud, she drew in a trembling breath, then crooned as the caresses lingered. He broke the seal of his lips, and raised his head, leaving the nipple glistening and as jewel hard as his gaze. "I thought you wished to speak with me about something ..."
He eased her back down and she shuddered with pleasure as he slowly riled her once more. This time they went slower but the end result proved as blissfully explosive and earth-shattering as before.
Hester did finally get her chance to discuss the fair with her husband about an hour after her initial entrance. He thought it a great way to end the summer season, and agreed that the people in the area deserved a light-hearted gathering after suffering through Shoe's campaign of terror.
The fair was set for the last week in August. She and Gail posted handbills and placed notices in the local newspapers from Detroit to Amherstburg, Ontario, to Toledo, Ohio. Fundraising fairs were a tradition amongst Black women of the North. They used them to fund newspapers such as the Liberator and Mr. Douglass's North Star, to help political figures and fugitives such as William and Ellen Craft, and to benefit local and national benevolent organizations like New York's Colored Orphan Asylum, which housed more than a thousand children.
Hester planned on raising funds that would apply closer to home. A good portion would be sent to Mary Shadd in Canada to aid the refugee situation there, and the rest would be given to the Women's Society at the church to help fund their sewing projects for the poor children in the area.
The day of the fair dawned bright and sunny. The staff and the Men's Club from the church helped construct and set up the many booths. All in all, Hester had heard back from over fifty vendors of everything from pound cakes, to hand work, to well digging. Each seller had agreed to give a portion of their profits to the cause.
Hester walked the expansive Folly grounds to check on things before the arrival of the anticipated throng. There were fifteen hostesses for the event, all dressed in the same gaily-striped dresses. Their jobs would be to oversee some of the booths, give directions to certain special events, and generally be Hester's eyes because it would be impossible for her to be everywhere at once. They'd arrived earlier in the morning and were now milling about helping with the setup of things.
Galen had volunteered to provide the children's entertainment. Hester hadn't an inkling as to what he'd planned, but he kept promising she would be pleased and she held him to his word.
The affair proved to be a tremendous success. The mixed-race crowd filled the grounds throughout the day. Folks bought ice cream, played checkers, had their likenesses taken by an itinerant photographer, and a few even contracted to have new wells dug. There were vendors from as far away as Marshall and there was music and fiery abolitionist speeches. Hester saw children playing hide and seek, and she stood watching other small faces smile with glee at the antics of the dancing bear, trained monkey, and gaily-clad jugglers all hired by Galen. She made a mental note to reward him later for keeping his word so splendidly.
The only crimp in the affair was the sight of Foster squiring Jenine around, but Hester reasoned all coin was good coin, and if Foster and Jenine had paid the price of admission, she couldn't ask them to leave.
Later that evening, after everyone had departed, Hester thanked her hostesses for their help, then went inside and collapsed into the closest chair. She was so tired she didn't think she had strength to even climb the stairs to her bed. One of Maxi's baths would be dearly appreciated right now, she told herself wistfully. She wondered if her husband would enjoy sharing the tub. She enjoyed being his passion mate. Were other couples as bent upon having fun in their marriages as she and Galen? She wondered.
Hester struggled up. Maxi and the staff were out cleaning up the grounds. She had no intentions of lying around while others worked. She was very tired but not too tired to act as if she were now too privileged to lend a hand. She found her husband outside talking to Raymond LeVeq. Seriousness etched the features of both men. At her approach they both looked up.
"Galen, has something happened?"
He nodded. "I've just received word of my grandmother's death."
Hester placed her hand gently on his arm. "I'm sorry."
He looked down at her with emotionless eyes. "Would you be willing to attend the burial service with me?"
She nodded that she would.
He took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I'll have Maxi help you pack. We leave in an hour."
Hester's tiredness became a secondary consideration as she helped Maxi and the maids ready her for the journey.
"I want you to stay by Galen's side, chiquita. Some of his set will do their best to reduce you to tears."
Hester, deciding over her nightwear, paused and looked back across the room. "Why? Outside of the obvious I mean."
"Obviously because you are outside his class, but mainly because you are his wife and they are not. There will be those who will hate your very step."
"He is that much of a prize?"
Maxi chuckled, "Maybe you and I know better, but they have been after him since the day he was born. When he was seven years old, his grandmother Vada signed documents arranging his marriage to the newborn granddaughter of a prominent New Orleans family."
"Newborn?"
"Yes, Ginette, his intended, was born six years after Galeno."
"Ginette?"
"Galeno has not told you of Ginette?"
Hester shook her head.
"Well, don't fret. It is probably because he has not deemed the subject worthy of discussion."
"Wa
s he engaged to this Ginette when we married?"
"As far as Vada was concerned, yes. Galeno, no."
Maxi's confident reply wiped away any misgivings Hester may have had over this surprising news. "How long have you been with Galen, Maxi?"
"Since the day he was born. I was brought to this country by Galeno's grandfather. He came into my restaurant in Brazil one day, enjoyed my food so much he asked if I would come to New Orleans and oversee his kitchens."
"I was under the impression that you were from the islands."
"I am originally. I was owned by a Spanish family there. They lost their cane plantation to a storm one year and were forced to move back to Brazil to live with the mistress's family. The wife's family did not believe in slavery so the master was forced to free me and the five others who'd worked in his house or find lodgings elsewhere. Free, I worked in kitchens all over Brazil, saved my coin and opened a small tavern in Bahia. When Galeno's grandfather came in and made me his offer, I agreed and never looked back."
"What was Galen like as a child?"
"Fiercely angry."
"Why?"
"Because after his parents died he went from being a dearly loved child to a thing beneath his grandmother Vada's feet. She hated him and he hated her in turn."
"Why would a grandmother hate her grandchild?"
"Because her daughter, Ruth, married a man who was not only outside their social circle, but had dark skin and worked with his hands. He was a shipbuilder."
"That's a very honorable profession."
"To many it is, however to those with inherited wealth like Vada, he may as well have been a street sweeper."
One of the maids entered, saying the coachmen were awaiting Hester's trunks so Hester had to set aside any other questions concerning her husband's past. During the ride, Galen didn't have much to say and Hester respected his silence. The long day had caught up with her and it soon became increasingly difficult to stay awake. She felt herself dozing off once more when Galen startled her back into full alertness by easing her onto his lap. Without a word he gently positioned her head against his wide chest, then kissed her softly on her brow. She cuddled close as he whispered in the dark coach, "Get some sleep. I'll awaken you when we arrive."