Words Spoken True by Ann H. Gabhart Page B

out to him even before a servant ushered him into the long, ornate parlor. Gilt-framed mirrors on every wall reflected the gay colors of the ladies’ dresses as they swirled among the dark suits of the gentlemen.
    Meta Jimson stood just inside the parlor greeting late arrivals with a stiff smile that didn’t soften when Blake spoke of the happy occasion they were celebrating. He was relieved when she turned away from him to the next arriving guest and he could move past her on into the room where, at last, his eyes fell on Adriane.
    He’d thought her beautiful that afternoon at Mrs. Wigginham’s, but now in a dress the same vibrant blue as her eyes with a neckline that revealed an enticing amount of creamy white skin, she took his breath away. Her dark brown hair was swept up in soft waves and caught high on her head, and his fingers tingled at the thought of pulling out the jeweled combs that held it there to let it cascade down around her shoulders. Blake had a sudden understanding of why men tried to pen poems. Not that he had the gift of poetry, but looking at her, he wished he did.
    He was sure she saw him the minute he entered the Jimsons’ parlor, but she pretended to be unaware of him as she turned to smile at another guest. Wade Darcy made no such pretense. For a moment Blake thought the man was going to barge across the room and demand he leave, but after a whispered conference with Coleman Jimson, Darcy simply scowled and turned his back on him.
    Coleman Jimson, on the other hand, came hurrying over to make Blake welcome. “Mr. Garrett, it’s so good of you to come to our little gathering.”
    “I couldn’t miss an event of such note.” Blake did his best to match the man’s enthusiasm as they shook hands. “Even if I wasn’t invited.”
    “You need no invitation, sir.”
    “I’m not sure Mr. Darcy agrees,” Blake said.
    “Don’t mind Wade. He’s never handled competition well, and you’ve been giving him a run for his money lately with Chesnut’s rag.” Coleman Jimson laughed as he clapped Blake on the shoulder. “Of course if you print anything unfavorable about his daughter tomorrow, he may call you out, and I must warn you he’s a superb marksman with a pistol.”
    Blake’s eyes drifted over to Adriane. “He needn’t worry about that. It would be hard to write anything the least unfavorable about such a vision of loveliness. Your son is an extremely fortunate man.”
    “Not everybody agrees with that, but it just so happens that I do. If anybody can make a man of Stanley, our Adriane can.”
    Jimson noted how his words took Blake by surprise. He laughed and pounded Blake on the back again as he went on. “And if you quote me on that, Mr. Garrett, I’ll swear on my mother’s Bible you made it up. Every word. Now come along and I’ll take you over so you can congratulate the couple in person. That is why you came, isn’t it?” Jimson’s eyes were suddenly sharp on Blake.
    “That and the chance for some free refreshments.” Blake pushed a bland smile out on his face.
    “There’s plenty of that for the taking.” Jimson led the way across the crowded floor to where Stanley and Adriane were greeting people.
    “We have a surprise guest, children,” the elder Jimson thundered in his booming voice, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “Blake Garrett from the Herald . I’m sure you know my son, Stanley, Mr. Garrett, and this is our Stanley’s lovely intended, Miss Adriane Darcy.”
    Adriane smiled a little, but she refused to meet Blake’s eyes directly as she greeted him politely. “How nice to see you again so soon, Mr. Garrett.” She looked over at Coleman Jimson to explain they’d just met for the first time that very afternoon at Mrs. Wigginham’s gathering for the Library Aide Society.
    When she glanced back at Blake, he was ready for her, and he grabbed her eyes before she could turn away. Caught by surprise, she met his look fully, hiding nothing, and