Bella's Vineyard (7 page)

Chapter Five

The Petersons
had spared no expense in making their daughter’s engagement a special occasion.
When Bella and Andrew arrived in the buggy, they passed by trees filled with
fairy lights. In the meadow behind the Peterson’s sprawling one-storey house,
there was a marquee, and outside a stage had been built, and a dance floor laid
on one of the few flat pieces of ground in that part of the foothills.

Stirring banjo
music flowed through the air, along with the thump of boots on the wooden
floor, and a few cries of ‘yeeha’.

Bella, wearing
the white lace gown, had made a special effort with her hair, pinning it
loosely at the sides. The rest hung down her back in golden tresses.

“This is more
like it,” said Andrew, admiring the Peterson’s home. “I was beginning to think
we’d moved to live among savages.”

“I’m sure you
would get that impression if all your time is spent in the saloon.” The words
were out before Bella could stop herself. She had meant not to reprimand Andrew
for his behaviour, mainly because she was tired of hearing the querulous tone
in her own voice. She was grateful when he ignored her. It seemed that he did
intend to be on his best behaviour. She only hoped it would continue.

“Actually
dearest,” said Andrew, pulling the buggy into the corral set aside for visitor’s
vehicles, “I wanted to talk to you about something. I know you’re a
kind-hearted girl who makes friends easily, but people are talking.”

“Talking?”

“First of all
about the Marshal. He seems to have made a pet of you, and well, he’s…”

“Don’t even say
it, Andrew.” Bella’s temper began to flare.

“Now, of course,
it doesn’t matter if you’re just friends with someone. I’m not bigoted, you
know that dearest, but, well, I wouldn’t want a man like that to marry my
sister.”

“Then you have
no need to worry,” said Bella, in strained tones. “Vance is already engaged to
someone else.” The words sent tiny arrows shooting through her heart.

“He is? Well,
I’m very happy for him. He is a good man, despite his pedigree, and I know you
would never behave in a way that was immoral.”

Bella waited,
sensing Andrew had something else to say. “But that’s not all, dearest. They
say you’ve taken on a Chinese man to help on the vineyard. You know the Chinese
are very unpopular here. The problem is so serious, they’ve had to bring in a
law to get rid of them.”

“Everyone who’s
skin is not whiter than white is unpopular here,” said Bella. “Shen is a good,
hard-working man. But it should comfort you to know he’s at least sixty years
old and already married, so you’ve no worries on that score.”

“Now, don’t be
facetious, dearest.”

Bella folded her
arms. She was getting shrewish again and hated herself for it. “I suppose May
is going to be next on your list.”

“She’s…”

“Family.”

“She’s not my
family.”

“Well, she’s
mine. I wouldn’t be eating if not for her.”

“She’s done
little for me.”

“You mean she
hasn’t financed your gambling. If she’d done that, you’d care very little about
her  personal preferences. The truth is, Andrew, you don’t like May because
she’s not a woman you can twist around your little finger.”

“I’ll ignore
that. All I want you to think about is that if you were sensible, you could be
married to a powerful man. You have the beauty and the brains.”

Bella’s eyes
widened as realisation took hold. She remembered Andrew saying that he had some
business with Griffiths. “Is that what all this is about? Griffiths?”

“He’s very taken
with you.”

“The feeling
isn’t mutual.”

“You know people
in our position seldom marry for love. That comes later.”

“I can promise
you, Andrew, that I will never love Mister Griffiths now or later.”

“That’s a pity,
because he asked me and I said I’d approach you on his behalf.”

“In that case,
it’s a definite no. I would never marry a man who didn’t have the courage to
tell me how he felt himself, instead of using my brother as a medium.”

“Let us put that
aside for now, dearest. You probably just need time to get used to the idea.”
Andrew tied the reins to the buggy, but made no move to get down. “Bella, you
haven’t told anyone the truth have you?”

“The truth?”

“You know. About
the vineyard.”

“No. I don’t
know if May knows, but she hasn’t said anything.”

“Good, because
I’d rather people didn’t know. A man has to keep some pride, especially around
here.”

“I told you
before we came that it makes no difference to me.”

“Well it
wouldn’t, would it? After all …”

There was a low
cough behind them. Bella turned in her seat to see Vance standing at the side
of the buggy. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,”
she whispered, wondering how much he had heard. “You have a dreadful habit of
sneaking up on people,” she said lightly, forcing a smile. It hurt her to
realise that she enjoyed her time in America much more when her brother was
absent.

“It must be my
pedigree,” he said, glancing at Andrew. Bella’s heart hung heavily in her
chest. So he had heard.  “Here, let me help you down.”

He lifted her
from the buggy in one easy movement, his strong hands warm through the thin
fabric of her gown. “You look very nice tonight, Miss Tennyson.” Bella wondered
why she had suddenly become Miss Tennyson to him. He let her go so quickly it
was as if she had burned his hands.

“Thank you …
Mister Eagleson,” she said, not sure if she wanted to cry. Did he think she was
as bigoted as her brother? “You look very nice too.”

He wore a black
suit, with a crisp white shirt with a black shoestring tie and stood head and
shoulders above every other man in the vicinity.

“So,” said
Andrew, who had climbed down from the buggy and walked around to them. “When
are we going to meet the lucky lady, Vance?” He seemed unaware that he had
caused offence. Or, thought Bella sadly, perhaps he did not care.

“Gloria is
coming soon, I hope. Your sister has kindly agreed to put her up for a while.”

“Well, that’s
wonderful. I’m sure we’ll all be great friends. Now if you two will excuse me,
I need to find Mister Griffiths. I don’t suppose you’d be kind enough to escort
my sister the rest of the way?”

“I’m honoured
you trust her to me,” said Vance, through tight lips.

“Of course, I
do. You’re a good friend, Vance. I was just saying so to Bella.”

Bella cringed at
Andrew’s patronising tone. She wished he would hurry up and leave them alone.
When he saw Griffiths in the distance, he did just that.

“I’m sorry,” she
whispered to Vance, when Andrew was out of earshot.

“You don’t have
to apologise for your brother. I told you that.”

“I know but his
behaviour in a saloon is one thing. The way he spoke about you is another.” She
looked up at him with large sad eyes. “Why did you call me Miss Tennyson? I
thought we were friends.”

“We are, but maybe
your brother is right. Maybe your association with me isn’t a good thing.”

“I don’t care
what others think,” said Bella. “I just don’t want us to be awkward with each
other. You’re one of the few people I can trust here.”

“But your
brother wouldn’t let you marry me.” Vance sounded bitter, but also tired. As if
the insult were one he had to swallow too many times.

“Surely the
discussion is academic since you’re engaged to Gloria,” she said, trying hard
to smile.

He reached up
and stroked her cheek. “And what would you say, Bella? If I did ask.”

They seemed to
stand there for an age, whilst he waited for her to answer. She wanted to say
‘oh yes’, to tell him that she would be proud to be his wife, and that since
the day she met she had lain awake at night thinking about him, and what it
might feel like to be in his arms. To do so would be to lay herself bare, and
she could not do that. Not knowing that he was in love with someone else.

“But you
wouldn’t because you’re in love with Gloria, so I think it’s best if we don’t
discuss it. Don’t you?”

“I think I just
got my answer,” he said, his face darkening. He turned and walked away from
her. After a few feet, he stopped and turned back. “Come on.” He held out his
arm. “I promised your brother I would escort you to the dance, and I never
break my promises. Miss Tennyson.”

Bella took his
arm meekly, more miserable than she had ever felt. Her reply seemed to have
convinced him that she felt the same way as her brother, but what else could
she have said? After all, he had not made a proper marriage proposal. He had
been talking hypothetically. If only she could have answered in the same way,
but for Bella there was nothing hypothetical about her feelings for Vance
Eagleson.

The rest of the
evening passed pleasantly enough. The Petersons were good hosts, insisting
everyone ate well from the buffet of fried chicken, spare ribs and potato
salad. The dancing, for Bella, was exhilarating, and a million miles away from
the sedate tea dances she attended in England. People whooped and cheered,
whilst following what to Bella sounded like impossible instructions from the
leader of the band.

When a young man
approached her and asked her to dance, she looked around for Vance but he was
deep in conversation with Mr Peterson and another man, whilst a young woman
hung on his arm looking up at him with doe eyes. So Bella allowed herself to be
led to the dance floor.

“You’ll have to
translate for me,” she said to her partner.

“Heck, ma’am I
don’t have a clue what they say most of the time. I just follow everyone else.”
So that was what they did, sometimes getting tangled up in a sea of arms. No
one seemed to mind. Everyone behaved with informal abandon. It was exhausting
but exhilarating for Bella.

Andrew was a
great hit with the young women, who all adored his accent. Bella was asked to
dance many times after the first young man approached her, but never by Vance.
He drew his own circle of admirers.

“You must tell
us all about your great-grandfather,” one young lady purred. Bella was waiting
to get a drink of punch and Vance and the girl had approached the table. “Was
he really a savage?”

“It depends what
you mean by savage,” said Vance, not seeming in the least bit offended by the
crass question. “All men are savages when stripped to the bone.”

“Why, Marshal, I
do believe you are the most provocative man I’ve ever met.”

“Yes, but would
your brother let me marry you?” said Vance. Bella froze, her glass mid-air.

“I don’t have a
brother, and daddy lets me do whatever I want.”

“Unfortunately,”
said Bella, in icy tones, “the marshal is already spoken for. Which is a great
loss for the ladies of Milton.”

“All is fair in
love and war,” said the young women, clearly besotted.

“Be careful,
Miss Grant,” said Vance. “You’ll be leading me astray.”

“Oh I do hope
so,” said Miss Grant.

Bella slammed
down her glass and walked away. A waltz had just started and she found herself
standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, not knowing which way to turn,
whilst others danced around her. Suddenly a hand caught hers. It was Vance.
“We’d better start dancing before they run us over,” he said, putting his hand
on her waist.

They began to
move in time to the music. The singer was lamenting about a rather
accident-prone girl called Clementine.

Bella could feel
her heart beating fast as Vance held her close, his body against hers taut and
strong. They danced for a while, until the ice between them began to thaw. She
would have gladly spent the whole evening in his arms. There were other
good-looking men at the dance, but Vance eclipsed them all. “I’m sorry,” he
whispered against her hair. His warm breath brushed her neck. “I shouldn’t have
said all those things.”

“Then why did
you? To impress Miss Grant.”

“No, because you
didn’t give me the answer I wanted.”

“You’re engaged
to someone else.”

“And that upsets
you?”

“It’s none of my
business,” said Bella. It hurt her to breathe, thinking of him being with
Gloria.

“One day I’ll
persuade you to tell me how you really feel.”

“Please don’t
play games with my heart, Vance. Unlike Miss Grant, I’m not experienced enough
with men to know how to respond in kind.”

He brushed the
centre of her palm with his thumb, causing a thrill to charge through her body.
“Being responsive to a man is more than about knowing what to say,” he
whispered. “Miss Grant there would run a mile yelling ‘savage’ if I touched her
the way I just touched you.”