Mirror Image (11 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

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Victoria sat listening to him, outwardly sophisticated, but in fact
incredibly naive, believing every word he said to her, as she looked up
at him adoringly but innocently, and then he kissed her. He wanted to
know when they could meet again. He doubted he could live without her
another moment. He said he knew how strong her
principles were, after all she'd said to him that night, how ardently
she believed in the cause of feminism, and of suffrage, but he was a man
who shared those views with her, and he would never take advantage of
her in any way. He just wanted to be near her, and get to know her.

Victoria was dazzled by him, and believed every word he said to her.

She wanted to believe him. She had never heard anything like it.

And by the end of the evening, she felt as though she had become a part
of Toby. They talked about the coincidence that they were both going to
the Astors' ball the next day, and after that they would have to figure
out some way to meet, he said. And for an odd moment, with a strange
glint in his eye, he asked if Victoria would be more comfortable, when
they met, if she brought her sister. But Victoria looked horrified.

She already knew what Olivia thought of him, and that she'd do
everything she could to prevent their meeting. Victoria told him that
she would not bring Olivia with her, and he seemed to accept that. It
had just been a rather amusing idea that he had clung to for only the
briefest of moments. And then, having agreed to meet somehow, somewhere,
the day after the Astors' ball, he took her back into the tent, and from
there to the drawing room, and was then quite dismayed to discover that
Evangeline had a dreadful headache and insisted on going home
immediately, but by then the damage was done, the deal was made, the
date was set, and Victoria was already head over heels with Toby.

Olivia was elsewhere in the house when the Whitticombs left, and she saw
none of it, but Charles had, and he stood across the room afterwards
watching Victoria with interest. There was something about the way she
moved her head, the way she looked at men, her secretiveness, her
seductiveness, her mysteriousness, that was entirely different from her
sister. Olivia was completely open, willing to hold out her heart and
her hand, he sensed easily how giving she was, how caring. And yet it
was the tormented one who fascinated him, the one who didn't know yet
what she wanted, and wanted all the wrong things thus far, that
intrigued him. There was something so insanely perverse about it that it
even annoyed him, and there was a part of him that wanted to stride
across the room and grab Victoria and shake her for her foolishness, but
of course he didn't.

There was yet another part of him that wanted to forget her entirely and
concentrate on the far more sensible, infinitely decent Olivia, and yet
she seemed so uncomplicated, so able to give and to receive that she
frightened him. He was far too tortured and too bruised himself, after
Susan's death, to accept all that Olivia offered. He had grown used to
pain, to unbelief, to frustration and anger, and it was far easier for
him to be near someone who didn't want him, had no expectations of him,
than to be near all that Olivia had to give him.

To even let her close to him, with her wide-open heart, would have been
a betrayal of Susan.

Victoria was something entirely different. And he watched her as the
evening wound down, fascinated by her. She had something on her mind
now, probably the infamous Tobias Whitticomb. And he couldn't help
wondering what she was going to do about it. Would he be getting rescue
calls again? Would Olivia dare to stop her? Did she even realize what
was happening, or was Victoria clever enough to conceal it from her?

Just watching her intrigued him.

And at last Charles went to speak to their father, and thank him for the
evening. It had been a splendid party, the first he'd been to in more
than a year. He had woken some old and new feelings that faintly
unnerved him. Both the tenderness that Olivia had aroused, and the raw
hunger and aching loneliness that Victoria caused him. None were
emotions he could put up with. And he left with an odd feeling of
emptiness that night, that neither the polite excess of alcohol he'd
consumed could numb, nor his son sleeping peacefully at home could fill.

He wanted one thing, one life, one person, and she was gone now.

And neither of the Henderson twins, however lonely, were adequate
substitutes for her.

Charles said good night to both twins when he left, and thanked them for
the party. Victoria had said very little to him. She had looked somewhat
heated, and distracted, and he realized that she'd been drinking too,
although Olivia hadn't. She'd had a few sips of champagne while they
talked, and she thanked him for coming. He said good-bye to her, trying
not to look straight into her heart, but she made it all too easy for
him. He wanted to warn her that life would be cruel to her, that a heart
like hers was dangerous, and she would do well to hide it.

But in truth, it was Victoria who was in real danger.

And Olivia knew that. She had seen Toby with her, and after the last
guest left, and they finally went to their room well after two o'clock
in the morning, Olivia followed her there and watched her.

"You agreed to see him, didn't you? " She confronted her, the party was
nearly ruined for her, from worrying about her sister.

"Of course not, " Victoria lied, and Olivia knew that too. She knew
everything. It was impossible not to. Victoria was far too transparent.

It didn't even require their special bond to understand it.

"Besides, it's none of your business."

"The man is a rotter, " Olivia shouted at her, "everyone in New York
knows that."

"He knows his reputation too. He told me so himself."

"How clever. But that does not absolve him. Victoria, you cannot see
him."

"I can do anything I want to, and you can't stop me, " Victoria hissed
at her. Nothing would stop her. Toby's lure was far more powerful than
her sister's caution. He was the devil, the serpent in the Garden of
Eden.

"Please .. . listen to me .. ." There were tears in Olivia's eyes as she
begged her. "You'll get hurt. You're not sophisticated enough to handle
a man like this. No one is, except maybe someone like him.

Victoria, listen to me. Believe me. The stories about him are awful."

"He says they're lies, " Victoria said, thoroughly convinced and
manipulated by him in a single evening. The man was a genius at
convincing people of whatever he wanted, particularly women.

"Because people are jealous of him."

"Why? " Olivia tried to reason with her, to no avail. It was hopeless.

WHY should they be? "

"His looks, his position, his money." He had told Victoria all that
himself, and she believed him.

"His looks will be gone soon, his position is his wife's, and he was
lucky with the money. So what's to be jealous of? " Olivia said coldly.

"Maybe you want him for yourself, " Victoria suggested evilly, not sure
whether or not she believed it, but determined to say it anyway.

She was furious with Olivia for trying to keep her from seeing Toby.

"Maybe you want him, and not that dreadful dullard attorney of
Father's."

"Stop being so rude about him. He's a decent man, Victoria, and you know
it."

"He bores me, " she said, the champagne talking as much as her own heart
now.

"Charles Dawson won't hurt you. Toby Whitticomb will. He'll use you, and
then he'll throw you away, like paper to write on. And when it's all
over, he'll go back to his wife and have another baby."

"You're disgusting, " Victoria said to her, and Olivia felt the familiar
pain in her stomach she always got when they argued. She hated fighting
with her sister, and seldom did it. This was not like their innocent
squabbles, or even their more serious ones, about Victoria's childish
pranks and adventures. This was a death dance, and Olivia knew it.

"I won't speak to you about this again, but I want you to know that I'm
here for you, always, and I love you. And I'm begging you not to see
him. I know you'll do what you want, but he's dangerous, Victoria.

And Father would be very upset if he knew you had spent the evening with
him. He only invited him to be polite, and you were very foolish sitting
yourself next to him. You're lucky Father had his back to you and never
noticed. You're playing with a lion, Victoria. You're not big enough or
strong enough to win. And eventually, the lion will eat you."

"I'm not worried, " she said confidently, "we're just friends.

That's all. He's married anyway." She was trying to get Olivia off the
scent, so she could have some freedom. And she didn't bother to tell her
how empty their marriage was. He had even hinted to her that they had
been talking about divorcing recently. It would be a terrible scandal,
of course, but he said he couldn't bear to go on in a loveless marriage
like this for much longer. Victoria felt desperately sorry for him. But
Olivia didn't, she hated him and wanted to send him away before he
destroyed her sister.

When they went to bed that night, long after three o'clock, all Olivia
could think of was the mess her sister was in, and all Victoria could
think of was the Astors' ball the next night, when she knew she would
see him.

 

 

 

Chapter 4.

 

Olivia woke the next day to muffled sounds from downstairs, and as she
lay in bed and listened to them, she remembered instantly the agonizing
argument with her sister. But when she turned on her side to look at
her, she saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Olivia got up
quietly, combed her hair, and put her dressing gown on to see what the
noises were, and then she remembered.

As soon as she got downstairs, she saw men everywhere, there were people
in the garden taking down the tent, furniture being put back where it
belonged, and flowers from their guests being delivered by the armful.

It was total chaos. And Mrs. Peabody and the butler were standing in the
midst of it, directing traffic.

"Did you sleep well? " Bertie smiled at her, and Olivia nodded,
apologizing for not having gotten up early enough to help her.

"You did a lovely job last night, my dear. You deserved a little rest
this morning. I'm glad you could sleep through all this racket." Though
it was difficult to imagine how, as they were making a huge amount of
noise taking down the tent in the garden. "Every one says the evening
was a great success. I'm sure that all of New York is talking about it
today, they must be, judging by the amount of flowers we've received.

I've put most of them in the dining room for the moment." Olivia
wandered into the dining room quietly, wondering where Victoria had
gone, and almost the first bouquet she saw was a huge vase filled with
two dozen long-stemmed red roses, but when Olivia read the card attached
to it, it said only "Thank you for the most important evening of my
life." It was unsigned, and then she saw that the envelope was addressed
to her sister. It was far too easy to figure out who had sent it. The
other arrangements all had signed cards, and were a great deal more
circumspect, though possibly less pretty.

There was a lovely arrangement though, she noticed, from Charles,
addressed to all three of them, thanking them for a delightful evening.

She knew that it was the first time he had gone out formally since his
wife had died, and she was glad that he had had a pleasant evening.

She certainly had, seated next to him, though she was still somewhat
annoyed at Victoria for having changed the seating.

Olivia wandered into the kitchen then, and observed the activity there,
and then she saw Victoria, sitting alone in the breakfast room, drinking
a cup of coffee. Olivia stood looking at her for a moment, worrying
about her again, and then she walked over and sat down beside her.

"Did you sleep well? " Olivia asked uncomfortably, still ill at ease
after their argument of the night before. It had been far more serious
than any they'd had in years. And this time was far more lethal than
their childlish fights. Olivia was convinced that her sister was in real
danger.

"Very well, thank you, " Victoria said formally, without looking at her.

"I'm surprised you could sleep with all the noise down here, " she said,
glancing over her shoulder. Olivia thought she looked particularly
beautiful, which was odd. She never thought of herself that way, and yet
she could always see something different, and more exciting, in her
younger sister. And there was something she had never seen before in
Victoria's eyes that morning.

"I think I was exhausted." Olivia didn't mention the altercation of the
night before, but after she had sat down and been served coffee by one
of the kitchen maids, she asked Victoria if she had seen her flowers.

"Yes, I did, " she answered after a moment's hesitation.

"I think I can figure out who sent them. I imagine you can too.

" Olivia said it cautiously, and there was a long silence. "I hope
you'll think about what I said last night, Victoria. It's a very
dangerous situation."

"They're only roses, Olivia. There's no need for you to get up in arms
over them, or about anything that happened last night. He's a very
interesting man, that's all. You don't need to make anything more of it,
" Victoria said, trying to make light of it in the morning sunshine, but
Olivia could see something in her twin's eyes that frightened her,
something very determined and powerful. And she knew instinctively that
Victoria was not going to let go of Toby.

"I hope you don't spend time with him again tonight. It would make
people talk, and the party is at his wife's cousins' house. You really
have to be careful, " Olivia warned her.

"Thank you, Olivia, " Victoria said, and stood up, looking down at her
sister. They were so identical without, and so different within,
sometimes it was hard to believe they were even sisters, let alone
twins. Olivia felt a shiver of fear at the chasm she suddenly felt
between them.

"What are you doing today? " she asked innocently.

"I'm going to a lecture. Is that all right with you, Olivia dear, or do
I need your permission? "

"I just asked. You needn't be so sensitive, or so rude, " she said
tartly, tired of the sparks and the sudden enmity that had come up
between them because of Victoria's flirtation with Toby.

"Since when do you ask my permission to do anything? You only expect me
to cover up for you, you never bother to ask before you do whatever it
is you wanted to do in the first place."

"You won't need to cover up for me today, thank you very much." It was
times like this that made each of them wish they had other friends.

But the exclusivity of their relationship, their unusual closeness,
their isolation from school, and the remoteness of where they lived, had
always deprived them of other people. They had always been closer to
each other than to anyone else, and although they liked it most of the
time, at times it left each of them feeling somewhat lonely. What are
you doing today? " Victoria asked. "Housework, I assume, as usual.

" She made Olivia sound incredibly dull, and Olivia felt it, as she
looked at her sister.

No one had sent her two dozen roses with an anonymous card. The man she
admired had sent an impersonal card addressed not only to her, but to
her father and sister, and for a fraction of a second, Olivia found
herself wondering if Victoria was right, and she was jealous.

"I'm going to help Bertie put the house back in order again.

It'll dave poor Father crazy to live with this mess for very long. I
thought we could do it all today before the ball at the Astors'
tonight."

"How entertaining." Victoria swept upstairs then, and she left the house
an hour later, in a dark blue silk suit and a fashionable hat, and had
Pethe dave her to her meeting. It was in a very ordinary neighborhood,
and after he dropped her off, he came back very quickly.

The rest of the day sped by for all of them, Victoria came back early in
the afternoon, and Bertie put her to work too, ordering the men who were
banging back the furniture from where it had been stored in their
carriage house around the corner. Olivia was working frantically, trying
to help repair some of the damage that had been done in the garden, and
by five o'clock, miraculously, the house looked as though no one had
been there. Bertie congratulated both of them on their fine work, and
almost as though on cue, their father walked in and told them how nice
the house looked.

"You'd never know we had so much as a dinner guest, let alone fifty
people dancing all over the place, and a tent damn near destroying the
garden. How bad is * out there? " he asked, and Olivia reassured him.

"Every one in New York is talking about what delightful hostesses you
are, " he said to both girls, but Victoria looked uninterested in his
praise, and a few minutes later she went upstairs to dress for the
Astors' party. Olivia had already put their dresses out for them, they
were pale pink gauzy dresses she had copied, as usual, from Poiret, and
they were quite demure. She'd had a moment of doubt when she set them
out, and then decided that perhaps it was what was needed at the moment,
precisely not to entice Toby.

"It really was a lovely party, Olivia, " her father complimented her
again, and sat down in his favorite chair in his comfortable study.

Everything had been replaced precisely as it had been, and Olivia poured
him a glass of port and handed it to him, as he looked up at her with a
warm smile. With each passing day, he seemed to enjoy her company more
than ever. "You spoil me terribly, my dear. I'm not even sure your
mother would have been as kind, if she were alive. She was a bit more
like your sister, a bit fiery at times, and determined to remain
independent." Being in this house always reminded him of her.

It was painful for him at times, and yet he liked being there now with
his daughters. He was happy with his business deals, and the time he was
spending with his attorneys making plans, they were interesting,
intelligent men, and it reminded him of the days before he'd retired,
when he was running an empire, and not just a portfolio of investments.

He had been thinking of selling his steel mills in Pittsburgh recently,
and Charles thought he had located a serious, interested buyer.

But it was not a simple decision to make, and he was thinking now that
they might be in New York at least until the end of October, if not
longer.

"Are you enjoying it here? " her father asked, happy to have a moment
alone with her.

"Yes, Father, I like it, " she said with a quiet smile. "I'm not sure
I'd like living here all the time. I think I'd miss the country if we
lived in the city permanently, but I like the museums, and the people,
and the parties. There's always so much going on. It's fun being here."
She smiled at him more warmly, and for a moment she looked like a child
again, but she was still very much a woman, and there were times when he
felt guilty for being so possessive of them. He knew they were of an age
when they should be out in the world, as they were now, and finding
husbands, and yet he knew he would be heartbroken when they finally left
him.

"I suppose I should be making more of an effort to introduce you to
eligible young men, " he said halfheartedly, sipping his port, and they
exchanged a smile. "You and Victoria should be getting married one of
these days, though I hate thinking of it, I'll admit. I don't know what
I'd do without you. You most of all, I'm afraid. You'll have to stop
taking such good care of me, my dear, so it won't be such a shock when
you go. I absolutely dread it." His eyes were filled with fatherly love,
as she took his hand in her own and kissed it.

"I'll never leave you. You know that. I couldn't." It was what she had
said to him when she was five, and then ten, but now she really meant
it. His health had weakened considerably over the years, his heart
wasn't strong, and she couldn't imagine leaving him. Who would look
after him if she did? Who would run his homes? Who would keep after
everyone, or see when he was Lying about his health and actually feeling
ill, and really needed the doctor? She knew she could never trust anyone
else to take care of him, certainly not Victoria who never even noticed
when he was ill, until somebody, usually Olivia, told her.

"I couldn't leave you, Father, " she said firmly, and meant it.

"You can't stay an old maid, not as pretty as you both are, " he said,
admiring her, and knowing that it would have been wrong to let her do
that. And yet, there was a part of him that wanted to let her have her
way, even if it meant sacrificing herself. He needed her as much as she
thought he did, and it was so easy having her take care of everything
domestic. It was almost as though she was already married to his life,
she took care of the most minute details. He would have been lost
without her, but he also knew that not pushing her out of the nest
eventually would have been incredibly selfish. And then, not even
wanting to think of losing her, he carefully changed the subject.

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