“Thank you. I love the ruffles and lace she added. I wasn’t sure how a soft cotton dress could turn into a beautiful party gown. Do you think I’ll look plain next to Constance and the red satin gown Florence made for her?” Eliza asked.
“I think you will stand out as the lovely wife of our host. You heard Florence say no one in town was interested in that red satin last Christmas, and she’s going to use what is left of the bolt to make ribbon decorations for this Christmas. Constance will be overdressed,” Sarah assured Eliza.
Eliza sighed. “I hope you’re right. I have a feeling she and Aunt Hortense are up to something. Aunt Hortense was almost friendly this afternoon, and she kept smiling at me.”
“Don’t let it worry you. You’ll be among friends tonight,” Sarah promised. “And I’ll be there, too. Between us, we won’t allow them to ruin the evening.”
“Thank you,” Eliza said, turning and hugging Sarah. “You have become a dear friend, too. I still think you and Jack should have supper with us.”
“I prefer to stay in the kitchen and serve the food. It won’t be hard. I have the buffet table set up along one wall of the dining room. I’ll just place all the plates and food there, and people can eat what they want. Jack said he’s going to stay at our house this evening.”
“I don’t blame him,” Eliza answered. “I’d like to hide, too.”
“You’ll be all right. The guests already know who you are. It’s Blake’s aunt and Constance that are trying to impress people. Just be your delightful self,” Sarah suggested.
“I never thought of myself as delightful,” Eliza said, giggling.
Eliza stopped giggling and bit her lower lip. “I still don’t understand Aunt Hortense’s guest list. I know inviting the judge and the mayor is important, but why the sheriff?”
Sarah shrugged. “Our mayor also owns the mercantile and his wife is a terrible gossip. Never say anything to Ethel Wilbey that you don’t want everyone in town to know the next day.”
“Perhaps,” Eliza said. “Aunt Hortense hopes Ethel will spread the word of what a wonderful party we had.”
“We can only hope that’s all she wants to spread around town. I don’t trust that woman,” Sarah admitted.
Eliza agreed. “I don’t either, and I worry about Constance. Lately, she spends more time reading, and she’s always looking around and talking to herself.”
Sarah nodded. “Constance does act strange at times. Perhaps she misses her home and enjoys getting lost in her books.”
A soft knock at the door stopped their conversation. When Sarah opened the door, she smiled. “Your wife is ready, and she looks lovely.”
“She certainly does,” Blake said, offering Eliza his arm.
They walked into the parlor and began greeting their guests as they arrived. Eliza knew the Wilbeys from the mercantile and had met the sheriff but had never met the aging Judge Grover. Blake introduced her and his aunt to the judge.
“Where’s Constance,” Eliza asked Aunt Hortense.
Aunt Hortense looked toward the stairs and said, “Here she is now.”
Constance was a vision to behold in her red satin gown as she floated down the stairs and into the parlor.
The sheriff, the only single man besides the judge, nearly tripped over his own feet as he walked toward Constance with his hand held out. “I’m Sheriff Conway, umm Dave Conway. Nice to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
Constance smiled and allowed the sheriff a quick handshake before moving to Blake’s side.
Sarah, sensing trouble, decided to put the food out and give the guests something to do besides stare at Constance.
After the rest of the introductions were made, Blake suggested they eat first and enjoy the outside dining table if they wished. “It’s a warm evening, and I expect we’ll see a beautiful sunset.”
Aunt Hortense and Constance chose to remain indoors, and Sheriff Conway joined them as did the judge. Eliza and Mister and Missus Wilbey, the owners of the mercantile, joined Eliza on the back porch. Amalie, Faith, and their husbands also chose to sit on the back porch. Blake did his best to speak to all parties moving from inside to outside and back again.
When everyone had their fill of Sarah’s delicious meal, Blake suggested they retire to the parlor and enjoy a glass of sherry.
As soon as everyone had a glass of sherry, Aunt Hortense said, “I think we should offer a toast to Blake and his new bride, Eliza.”
With a couple of “here heres” and lots of smiles, the young couple were toasted by their friends.
Aunt Hortense sipped her sherry and said, “I think we should also make Eliza welcome and get to know her better. Why don’t you tell us a little more about yourself, my dear? Perhaps you could start with why you left St. Louis, the employ of the prominent Richards family, and escaped from town with your reputation barely intact.”
“What?” Eliza sputtered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Blake turned to his aunt, his eyes darkening in anger. “What are you saying, Aunt Hortense, and why are you saying it here and now?”
“It’s simple, Blake, the good people here tonight need to know what type of woman is living in their town. She didn’t grow up in an orphanage, she’s the child of a saloon girl and worked as one before she convinced you to marry her. She’s nothing more than a harlot who does not deserve the Montgomery name,” Aunt Hortense lied.
Eliza gasped and spilled her sherry, staining the front of her new dress. Before Blake could defend Eliza, Amalie strode toward Aunt Hortense and stopped inches from the old woman.
“I want you to know that I have known Eliza since she was a tiny baby. She, Faith, and I grew up in the same St. Louis orphanage. Her mother died shortly after she was born, and her father was killed in an
