Chapter Five

Anticipation of the birthday party loomed over the entire plantation. The first week of December brought cooler temperatures for which Millie was elated.

Two weeks before, she had begged her father for a trip to New Orleans to find the perfect dress. Duties at the plantation had caused him to refuse—until today. The entire family, accompanied by a few servants, was gathered in a covered carriage on their way to town. The trip would take most of the day, and, upon arrival, they would check into their favorite hotel. Tomorrow Millie would spend the day shopping for her new dress.

Her mother tapped lightly on the wood behind Millie's head and a curtain spread apart. "Henri, are we almost there? This seat is becoming harder by the second."

"Darling, I assure you the horses are pulling at top speed."

"Very well, if I must endure, then I must," her mother sighed.

"Here, Mother, use this. Mary made it for us to sit on," said Amelia.

Alice accepted the cushion sewn by Isaac's daughter.

"Thank you, dear." She lowered her voice and spoke to Millie. "I do so hate to complain, but why your father insisted on a trip only one week before your party is beyond me. I have a million things to do; none of which include riding in a wagon along a rutted road to New Orleans."

Millicent nodded but didn't speak. How would her mother react if she knew the trip had come at her behest? Surely, she couldn't be expected to wear some worn out gown to the biggest event of her life!

Amelia and Cora sang softly, which caused their Mother to narrow her eyes. Immediately, they folded their hands in their lap and fell silent.

Millie squirmed at her mother's obvious displeasure.

Cora started humming, her fingers playing with her gown as her feet tapped against the floor.

"Cora! Please stop that incessant noise." Alice pinched her nose and massaged her temples. "Millicent, inform the driver to stop this contraption this instant!"

Millie beat on the roof signaling the driver to pull off the road. Her mother impatiently waited for her husband to help her down.

"Alice, what are you doing?"

"Henri, the closeness inside the wagon is stifling. I need air."

Amelia whispered, "Mother is fretful today."

Cora nodded.

Millie placed her finger across her lips to silence her sisters.

Alice said, "Children, come out."

To keep from complaining, Millie bit her tongue. Her mother's delay would make them late for dinner. Crossing her arms over her chest, she refused to move.

"What are you doing?" Cora whispered as she moved past her.

"I'm not moving from this spot. Mother is being ridiculous."

When they were younger, Dolly, the cook and Isaac's wife, had coined each girl with distinct personalities. She said Cora was reckless and dangerous and often commented that if she lived until her twentieth birthday, it would be a miracle. As for Amelia, Dolly considered her realistic and reliable, the voice of reason in most situations. And Millicent, according to Dolly, was obstinate.

Cora shrugged and descended the wagon. Squealing with delight, she ran toward a swirling creek, jumping from one rock to another.

Alice called, "Cora, do be careful. If you wet your gown you will shiver the rest of the way to town."

Amelia said, "Millie, please come down. If mother notices your actions she will speak to father and he may reveal the purpose of this trip. You don't want her knowing that you insisted upon it. She still believes you are wearing her coming-out gown."

Millie relented and climbed from the carriage. Finding a tree with overflowing limbs and a stone beneath it, she sighed and sat down. If Mother believed she was wearing her old gown then she was mistaken. Not only was it faded, but the lace had yellowed. But far worse than that, its color was a grotesque pink, completely unsuitable for the month of December.

While the family sat on rocks beside the creek for at least an hour, Millie fretted over her gown and brushed at ants that crawled up her dress. She sighed when shadows began to fall. Her father spoke above her, "My little dove, we are ready to depart."

Millie grabbed the hand he offered and was pulled to her feet. "Thank you, Father."

"You are welcome. Don't be overly upset with your mother. Travel puts her in a surly mood. But I assure you shopping will take her mind off traveling woes."

"Father, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, of course."

"Will mother be upset when I tell her I want a new gown?" Millie waited. Her father looked over his shoulder and studied his wife. A frown tilted the corners of his mouth downward.

"I will not lie to you, daughter. I fear she may not be pleased. The timing is not the best. If I would have planned better, then we could have come last month, so I fear–"

"You had many things on your mind, Father. I do not blame you. Yet I don't want to make Mother angry. But you do understand, don't you? Pink in December is not acceptable. I just couldn't be seen in such attire at my eighteenth birthday party. If I'm supposed to meet my future husband, I would be embarrassed for all time!"

Henri's brow rose in a questioning expression.

"Well, I-I mean, it could happen, right?"

"Hmm."

"And I need a new dress. Of course, if we'd come earlier then we could have purchased material, but at this late date, Dolly has no time to make the gown. The only option is to purchase a gown and have it altered while we're in New Orleans. Right, Father?"

Millie placed her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers. Luck was what she needed. She needed extra time in New Orleans. Then she could go to the post office and intercept the mail before it was shipped to Bayou Sara, see if Stephenie had replied to any of her posts. She wanted to know if Stephenie was attending her party.

"Of course. We'll find a seamstress and complete the dress while we're in town. I'll find ways to distract your mother while you girls and Manfred take care of business."

Millie wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Father. This will be the best birthday ever."

****

This would be the worst birthday ever. Mother lay in her room wailing with a headache. Worried, Father wouldn't let his daughters out of his sight. Doctors were called, but they could find nothing wrong with Alice.

Millie paced their suite anxiously. She tried to convince Cora to sneak away with her, but for all Cora's reckless behavior, she refused to leave their mother's side.

"I have to stay with her. She needs me."

Amelia wouldn't leave either. She sat in a chair opposite the bed and stitched her needlepoint.

What was Millie going to do about her dress?

Downstairs in the formal dining room, Millie sat at a table alone. Gentlemen and couples filtered in and ordered meals. Several looked at Millie questioningly, but she smiled and looked away. The waiter passed by and she raised her hand to order. He continued to ignore her. Without a man she was invisible.

Cradling her chin in her palms, she studied the patrons. Fancily dressed couples stared into each other's eyes, while single men gathered around tables with large cigars sending wisps of gray smoke around their heads. Two young men sat across from one another chuckling. Both were tanned. One had light blonde hair and when he turned, the light in the room reflected off his pale blue eyes. The other had thick midnight black hair. His eyes were the brightest blue she had ever seen. He winked and Millie felt heat flush her cheeks. Lowering her hands, she moved her eyes and studied her table.

"Miss, will your family be joining you?" A waiter interrupted her thoughts.

"No. I'm leaving." The waiter nodded politely and moved to other patrons.

She pushed away from the table and her chair tittered. Covering her mouth with her hand, she waited for the loud crash. A flash of color made her turn. Suddenly, there was a gentleman beside her catching the chair.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly.

"You're welcome." The man with the bright blue eyes bowed low before rising to his full height. Millie lifted her gaze to his face. It was beautiful; well proportioned with high cheekbones and a defined nose. Mesmerized, and unable to stop herself, she lifted her hand and touched his cheek. His face lit with surprise.

The feel of his skin sent tingles through her hand and up her arm. She didn't draw her finger back; instead she lightly cupped his cheek. Even the sound of someone clearing his throat didn't stall her movement.

"Excuse me, miss," said a voice behind her.

Millie still didn't move. The corners of the stranger's eyes twitched upward, his lips following suit.

The voice spoke again. "Your carriage waits to take you to the dressmaker. Your father told me to tell you."

A gasp escaped her lips. Releasing the man's face, she lifted her skirts and fled. Her father sat atop the carriage and frowned as she dove inside. Amelia said, "Where have you been? Father has sent servants all over the hotel looking for you."

"I was in the dining hall. Where is Cora?"

"She chose to stay behind with Mother. Father changed his mind about remaining indoors and has decided he will take you to pick out your gown. But it has to be purchased today. Tomorrow we're returning home. Mother has ordered it."

But of course; Mother spoke so it must be. Millie settled against her seat and tried to calm her rapidly beating pulse. Her hand still tingled from the roughness of the man's face. A fresh wave of heat flooded her cheeks at her boldness with the stranger.

Settling her gown around her, she decided not to worry. She would never see the man again anyway. All she needed to think about was what color of dress to purchase.