Twin of Ice Page 5
Blair looked up in horror. “No! Never! That’s the last thing I am. Did . . . did he say much about me today?”
Houston ground her teeth together, remembering how he had said Houston was usually so frigid, but last night . . . “Let’s forget this if we can. I’ll talk to Lee when he’s over his anger and we’ll keep it between the three of us. This may make things awkward for a while, but I’m sure we can work out a satisfactory solution. Let’s not allow something like this to come between us. Our sisterhood is more important than this.”
“Thank you,” Blair said, impulsively hugging her sister. “No one ever had a sister like you. I love you.”
Blair seemed to feel better, but Houston had some nagging doubts which she told herself were absurd. She loved Lee, had always loved him, had planned to marry him since she was a child. This one little thing, this one night with the wrong sister wouldn’t change anything, would it?
“Of course not,” she said aloud, smoothed her skirt and went toward the house. One night wasn’t going to erase years together.
Chapter 5
At four o’clock, Houston, Blair and their mother were sitting in the parlor, Blair reading her medical journal, the other two women sewing, when the front door was opened, followed by a jamb-jarring slam.
“Where is she?” Duncan Gates bellowed, making the chandelier above their heads rattle. “Where is that immoral harlot? Where is the Jezebel?”
Mr. Gates burst into the room, his stout body puffed with fury. He grabbed Blair’s arm, pulled her out of her chair, dragging her toward the door.
“Mr. Gates!” Opal said, on her feet at once. “What is the meaning of this?”
“This . . . this daughter of Satan has spent the night with Leander and, in spite of the fact that she’s unclean, he plans to make an honest woman of her.”
“What?!” the three women gasped.
“Leander is going to marry the harlot, I said.” With that he half-dragged a protesting Blair out of the house.
Houston sat down heavily, not able to comprehend what was happening around her.
“Houston,” her mother said. “You and Blair traded places last night, didn’t you?”
Houston only nodded silently and picked up her sewing as if nothing had happened.
The sun set, the room darkened, and the maid switched on the electric lights, but still mother and daughter didn’t speak.
Only one thought went through Houston’s mind: It’s over. Everything is over.
At midnight, the front door opened and Duncan pushed Blair into the parlor ahead of him.
“It’s settled,” he said in a voice hoarse with overuse. “Blair and Leander will be married in two weeks. It will be announced in church on Sunday.”
Quietly, Houston stood.
“Daughter,” Duncan said with feeling, “I’m sorry about this.”
Houston merely nodded as she started toward the stairs.
“Houston,” Blair said from the foot of the staircase. “Please,” she whispered.
But at the moment, Houston had no compassion to give her sister and, even when she heard Blair at last break into weeping, she didn’t look back.
In her room, she still seemed to be numb. Her whole life over, turned around in one single night. Everything lost.
On the wall hung a framed diploma from Miss Jones’s School for Young Ladies. With violence, she tore the diploma from the wall and flung it across the room, feeling no relief when the glass shattered.
With steady fingers, she began to unbutton her dress. Moments later she was standing in her nightgown, just standing, not moving, not aware of when her mother entered the room.
“Houston?” Opal said, her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
“Go to her,” Houston said. “Blair needs you. If she stays here and marries Leander, she’s going to give up a great deal.”
“But you have, too. You’ve lost a lot tonight.”
“I lost it long before tonight. Really, go to her. I’ll be all right.”
Opal picked up the broken diploma. “Let me see you in bed.”
Obediently, Houston climbed into bed. “Always obedient, aren’t I, Mother? I always obey. If not my parents, then Leander. I’ve always been such a good little girl and what has it gotten me? I’m a true, deep-down lady and my sister with her knickers and her kisses is getting everything I’ve worked for since the first grade.”
“Houston,” Opal pleaded.
“Leave me alone!” Houston screamed. “Just leave me alone.”
With a shocked look on her face, Opal left the room.
* * *
Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful, the sun highlighting Ayers Peak that graced the western side of Chandler. There were many churches in town, covering every denomination, and nearly all were full of people.
But even the sun couldn’t melt the coldness inside the Chandler twins, who walked on opposite sides of their stepfather. Their mother had suddenly been attacked with a mysterious ailment that kept her from witnessing her daughters’ public humiliation.
Leander waited in the pew for them, his eyes looking toward Houston, and when they neared the bench, he put his hand out to her. “Houston,” he whispered.
Now he can tell us apart, she thought, but said nothing as she moved aside to keep from touching him.
Duncan nearly pushed Blair toward Lee and at last they were seated, Blair beside Lee, then Duncan and Houston on the end.
The service seemed to pass in seconds because Houston knew that at the end of it the announcement was going to be made.
It came much too soon.
Unfortunately, Reverend Thomas wasn’t conducting the service today but was replaced by Reverend Smithson who could have been more tactful.
“Now I have an announcement to make,” he said with an amused tone. “It seems that our own Leander has changed his mind about which twin to marry and is now engaged to Blair. I don’t believe I could make up my mind between them, either. Congratulations again, Lee.”
For a moment the church was thunderstruck. Then, men began to chuckle, and women gasped in astonishment. Every, one rose to leave.
“Houston, you must listen to me,” Lee said, catching her arm “I must explain.”
“You have explained,” she hissed at him. “When you told me how wonderful Blair was, and how you hoped the ice princess would never return, that’s when you did your explaining. Good morning,” she smiled at a passerby.
“Hello, Houston, or are you Blair?” someone asked.
“Congratulations, Lee.” A man slapped him on the shoulder and went away laughing.
“Houston, let’s go somewhere.”
“You can go to . . . your bride.” She glared at him in anger.
“Houston,” Lee pleaded. “Please.”
“If you don’t take your hand off me I’ll scream, for surely I can suffer no more embarrassment than you have caused me already.”
“Leander!” Duncan said. “Blair is waiting for you.”
Lee reluctantly turned away from Houston, clutched Blair’s arm, shoved her into his buggy and drove away much too fast.
The minute Houston was alone, women descended on her, edging her away from Duncan’s protection. The many faces were concerned, curious, some sympathetic. Mostly, the women seemed to be puzzled.
“Houston, what happened? I thought you and Lee were so happy.”
“How could Leander want Blair? They argue constantly.”
“When was the decision made?”
“Houston, is there someone else?”
“You’re damned right there is, ladies,” came a booming voice from behind them, and they all turned to look up at Kane Taggert. No one in town had ever heard him say much and he had certainly never seemed to be aware of what any of the townspeople were doing.
The women gaped openly at this big man in his rough clothes, with his unkempt beard, as he made his way through them. No one was more surprised than Houston.
“Secret?” one of the women prompted.
Kane put his arm around Houston. They were an incongruous pair, him hairy, rumpled, her perfect. “Houston broke her engagement to Leander because she fell right smack in love with me. Ladies, she just couldn’t help herself.”
“When did this happen?” one of the women recovered herself enough to ask.
Houston was beginning to breathe again. “It started when Mr. Taggert and I had dinner together at his house,” she whispered, knowing she was going to regret every word later, but now it was nice not to have to admit she’d been jilted.
“But what about Leander?”
“Leander consoled himself with the love of Houston’s dear sister, Blair,” Kane said sweetly. “And now, ladies, we got to be goin’. I hope all of you will come to the weddin’—a double weddin’—in two weeks.” He put his hand on the small of Houston’s back, and pushed her toward his old wagon.
As he drove away, Houston sat rigidly on the edge of her seat.
He halted the wagon at the edge of his own property. Before them spread his acres of garden and in the background was his house. He put up his arms to help her down. “You and me gotta talk.”
Houston was too numb to do anything but obey.
“I woulda come to church to sit with you, but I had some work to do. It looks like I got there just in time. Another minute and them ol’ biddies would of eaten you alive.”
“I beg your pardon.” Houston was only vaguely listening. Until this morning she’d hoped it was all a bad dream, that she’d wake up and Leander and she would still be engaged.
“Are you listenin’ to me at all? What’s wrong with you?”
“Other than public humiliation, Mr. Taggert, nothing is wrong with me.” She stopped. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems.”
“You ain’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? Didn’t you hear me tell ’em you and me was gonna get married? I invited ’em all to a double weddin’.”
“And I thank you for it,” Houston said, managing a smile. “It was very kind of you to come to my rescue. You would make a splendid knight. Now, I think I should leave.”
“You’re the damnedest woman I ever met! If you don’t marry me, what else you gonna do? You think any of the so-called society men are gonna have you? They’re afraid of the whole Westfield clan. You think Marc Fenton wants you?”
“Marc Fenton?” she asked, puzzled. “Why should Marc, as you put it, ‘want me’?”
“I was just wonderin’, that’s all.” He stepped closer to her. “How come you don’t wanta marry me? I’m rich and I gotta big house and you just got jilted and you ain’t got nothin’ else to do.”
She looked up at him, his size making her a little uneasy, but she wasn’t really afraid of him. Suddenly, all thought of Leander and Blair was gone. “Because I don’t love you,” she said firmly. “And I know nothing about you. For all I know, you could have been married ten times before and have locked all your wives away in the cellar. You look like you’re capable of such a trick,” she said as she looked down her nose at his hairy face and heavy shirt that was torn at the shoulder.
For a full minute, Kane stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment. “Is that what you think of me? Listen, lady.” He took a step closer to her. “I ain’t had time to marry anybody. Since I was eighteen and Fenton tossed me out on my ass, I’ve done nothin’ but make money. There was three years when I didn’t even sleep. And here you’re tellin’ me I might of had time to marry ten women.”
By the time he finished, Houston was leaning backward, Kane bending over her.
“I think perhaps I was in error,” she said with a gentle smile.
Kane didn’t move. “You know, you’re the prettiest woman I ever seen in my life.”
With that, he slipped one arm around her back, pulled her to him, as he buried his right hand in her carefully pinned coiffure, and kissed her.
Houston had kissed Leander hundreds of times. He was familiar to her, nothing unexpected—but Kane’s kiss was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. His mouth was demanding on hers, not the refined kiss of a gentleman with a lady, but more like how she’d imagine a stableman would kiss.
He released her so abruptly she nearly fell, and for a moment they looked at each other. “Lady, if you can kiss me like that when you love that Westfield, I’ll manage to do without your love.”
Houston could say nothing.
He took her elbow, “I’m gonna take you back now, and you can start plannin’ for our weddin’. Buy yourself whatever you need. I’ll put some money in the bank for you. I want lots of flowers at the weddin’ so get some sent here. Have ’em seat from California if you want or come look at what I got in my glasshouse. And we’ll be married in my house. There’s chairs in the attic. I want ever’body in town to come.”
“Wait! Please,” she said, repinning her hair as he propelled her along. “I haven’t agreed yet. Please Mr. Taggert, give me some time. I haven’t yet recovered from losing my fiancé.” She put her hand on his arm, could feel the muscles of his forearm under his heavy shirt.
He lifted her hand and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss it.
“I’ll buy you a ring. What do you like? Diamonds? Emeralds? What are those blue ones?”
“Sapphires,” she said absently. “Please don’t buy me a ring. Marriage is a lifetime commitment. I can’t rush into this too quickly.”
“You take your time. You got two whole weeks before the weddin’ to get used to the idea of bein’ my wife.”
“Mr. Taggert,” she said with exasperation, “do you ever listen to what other people say?”
He grinned at her from beneath his beard. “No, never. That’s the way I got rich. If I saw somethin’ I wanted, I went after it.”
“And I’m next on your list of things you want?” she asked softly.
“At the very top. Right up there with an apartment buildin’ in New York that Vanderbilt owns and I want. Now, I’ll take you home so you can tell your family about me and you can put me in Westfield’s place. He’s gonna be sorry! He got a Chandler all right but I’m gettin’ the lady one.” He flipped the reins to the horses so suddenly Houston fell back into her seat before she could say a word.
At the door to her house, he jumped from the wagon and nearly pulled her to the ground. “I got to get back now. You tell your parents about me, will ya? And I’ll send a ring over to you tomorrow. Anything you need, you let me or Edan know. I’ll try to see you tomorrow.” He gave a quick look over her shoulder toward her house, then said again, “I got to go,” and bolted into the wagon.
Houston stood before the little stone fence in front of her house and watched him speed away, dust almost obscuring the buggy from view. She felt as if she’d just weathered a tornado.
Inside the house, both Duncan and Opal were waiting for her, Opal in a chair, her eyes red from crying, while Duncan, arms folded, was pacing the floor.
Houston braced herself before entering the room. “Good afternoon, Mother, Mr. Gates.”
“Where have you been?” Duncan seethed.
“Oh, Houston,” Opal cried, “you don’t have to marry him. You’ll find someone else. Just because Leander made a mistake doesn’t mean you should, too.”
Before Houston could speak, Duncan started on her. “Houston, you’ve always been the sensible one. Blair never did have any sense. Even as a little girl she’d rush off head first into trouble, but you always had as much sense as a woman is capable of. You were going to marry Leander and—.”
“Leander is no longer going to marry me,” Houston pointed out.
“But not Kane Taggert!” Opal wailed and buried her face in her d
amp handkerchief.
Houston began to feel protective of Kane. “What in the world has the man done to deserve so much hostility? I have not agreed to marry him, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
Jumping up from her seat, Opal ran to her daughter. “He’s a monster. Look at him. You can’t live with that great smelly bear of a man. Every friend you ever had would desert you. And there are terrible stories about him.”
“Opal!” Duncan commanded and, meekly, she went back to her seat to continue sobbing. “Houston, I’m going to address you as I would a man. I couldn’t care less if the man’d never had a bath in his life. That doesn’t bother me. He can certainly afford a bathtub. But there are things . . . ” He gave her a hard look. “There are stories, among the men, that Taggert has had a couple of men killed in order to make his fortune.”
“Killed?” Houston whispered. “Where did you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter where—.”
“It does matter!” she snapped. “Don’t you see? The women of this town were angry because he ignored them, so they made up stories about him. Why would the men be any different? Leander told me of several men in town who tried to sell Mr. Taggert things such as worn-out gold mines. Perhaps one of them began the rumors.”
“What I heard comes from a very reliable source,” Duncan said darkly.
Houston was quiet for a moment. “Jacob Fenton,” she said softly and saw by the expression on Duncan’s square face that she was right. “From the gossip I’ve heard,” Houston continued, “Mr. Taggert dared to make advances to Jacob Fenton’s precious daughter Pamela. When I was a girl, I remember people whispering about the disgraceful way Mr. Fenton spoiled her. Of course he’d hate a man who’d once been his stable boy and who had the audacity to want to marry his spoiled daughter.”
“Are you saying Fenton’s a liar?” Duncan accused. “Are you choosing this newcomer over a family you’ve known all your life?”
“If I do marry Kane Taggert—and I mean if—yes, I will believe in him over the Fentons. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I suddenly feel very tired and I think I’ll lie down.”