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But any nonsense from either of you, " he said, wishing he could tell
which one of them was Victoria, but he couldn't, "and I'll pack you
right back here with Bertie."

"Yes, sir, " Olivia said quietly with a smile, knowing that the warning
was not meant for her, but for her sister. Suspecting that he wasn't
quite sure at the moment which of them he was addressing, Olivia could
always tell when he wasn't certain.

But Victoria wasn't making any promises, her eyes were dancing at the
prospect of a month in the city. "Are you serious? " she asked,
wide-eyed with delight.

"About sending you back? " he blustered. "Absolutely."

"No, about New York, I mean." She looked from her father to the
lawyers, and they were all smiling.

"Apparently, " her father answered. "It could even be two months, if
they don't do their jobs right, and dally around once we get there."

"Oh please, Daddy, " Victoria said, clapping her hands and doing a
little pirouette on one heel and then grabbing her sister by the
shoulders. "Think of it! New York, Ollie! New York! " She was beside
herself with joy and excitement, and it made her father feel guilty when
he thought of how isolated they were here. They were of an age where
they belonged in the city now, meeting people, and finding husbands. But
he hated the thought of them leaving him forever, particularly Olivia.

She was so helpful to him, she did so much for him. What would he ever
do without her? But he was worrying prematurely. They hadn't even
packed their bags and gone to the city yet, and he already imagined them
married, and himself abandoned.

"I hope we'll see more of you, Charles, when we come to the city, "
Edward said as he shook his hand finally in the doorway. Victoria was
still talking about New York to Olivia, paying no attention at all to
the two men who had come to visit. And Olivia was quietly watching
Charles as he said good-bye to their father. He assured Mr. Henderson
that he would see a great deal of him at the office, as long as John
Watson was willing to let him handle his business. John assured him
that he would, and Edward urged Charles to come to see them at the house
as well, as Charles thanked him politely for the invitation. And as he
left, Charles glanced over the older man's shoulder and looked into
Victoria's eyes again. He wasn't sure which one she was, but he felt
the oddest pull whenever he looked at her. He couldn't have explained
it if someone had asked him to, it was a kind of electricity he felt
from her, and not from her sister. It was the oddest feeling not
knowing which was which, and yet he was fascinated by both of them.

He had never met anyone like them.

Edward Henderson walked the men to their car, and as they drove away
Olivia stood watching them at the window. And despite her wild
excitement over New York, Victoria noticed.

"What's that all about? " She had seen Olivia's intense look at the car
driving slowly down their driveway.

"What do you mean? " Olivia asked, turning away to go and check on the
library, and make sure the tray had been removed directly after the
meeting.

"You're looking awfully serious, Ollie, " Victoria accused. They knew
each other far too well. It was dangerous sometimes, and at others
merely annoying.

"His wife died on the Titanic last year. Father says he has a little
boy."

"I'm sorry to hear about his wife, " Victoria said, sounding unmoved.

"But he looks terribly boring, doesn't he? " she said, dismissing him,
in favor of countless unnamed delights soon to be discovered in New
York, among them political rallies and suffragists' meetings, none of
which interested her sister. "I think he looks incredibly dreary."
Olivia nodded, and made no comment as she walked into the library to
escape her sister. And when she emerged again, satisfied that the tray
was gone, Victoria had gone upstairs to change for dinner. Olivia had
laid her clothes out for her earlier that afternoon. They were both
going to wear a white silk dress, each with an aquamarine pin, a pair
that was their mother's.

And a few minutes later, Olivia went to the kitchen to find Bertie.

She knew instantly that she was Olivia, and not her sister.

"Are you all right? " she asked Olivia, looking worried for a moment.

It had been a terribly hot day and she knew Olivia had been out walking.

And the young woman looked suddenly very pale now.

"I'm fine. Father has just told me we're going to New York at the
beginning of September. We're going to stay for a month or two, while
he does some business." The two women exchanged a smile. They both
knew what that meant. An incredible amount of work and planning to open
the house in New York. "I thought you and I could get together tomorrow
morning to start making plans, " she said quietly. She had a great deal
to think about, a lot to do for him, most of which her father was
entirely unaware of. "You're a good girl, " Bertie said softly to her,
touching the pale cheek, as she looked at the huge blue eyes, wondering
if something had upset her. Olivia was feeling something she had never
felt before, and she was finding it unnerving and confusing. Even more
so, worrying that Victoria was going to march right into her thoughts
and expose them.

"You work so hard for your father, " Bertie praised her. She knew them
both so well, and loved them both with all their similarities and
differences. They were both good girls, as different as they were,
beneath the surface.

"I'll meet with you tomorrow morning then, " Olivia said quietly, and
then left the kitchen to go upstairs to change. She went up the back
stairs this time, trying to clear her thoughts, so Victoria wouldn't
look right into them like a body of clear, translucent water. It was
impossible to keep secrets from her, impossible for either of them.

They had never even tried to.

But as she tried to think of other things, as she approached their huge
room where they shared the same canopied bed they'd slept in all their
lives, Olivia found she couldn't get her mind off of him. All she could
think of were those green eyes, those deep dark pools that led straight
to the soul of the man who had lost his wife to the Atlantic.

She closed her eyes for a moment then as she turned the knob, and forced
herself to think of more mundane things, like the new sheets she would
probably need to order for New York, and the pillowcases she needed to
bring for her father. She filled her head with fanalities, and then she
walked briskly across the room to her sister.

Chapter 2.

On the first Wednesday afternoon in September, Olivia and Victoria
Henderson were driven to New York by their father's chauffeur, Donovan,
in the Cadillac Tourer, with Petrie driving Mrs. Peabody in the Ford
just behind them. They brought endless supplies with them, and two
other cars had been sent down the day before, carrying trunks of linens
and clothes, and everything that Olivia and Bertie had decided were dire
necessities that they absolutely had to have with them to run a decent
household. Victoria didn't care what they took. She packed two trunks
of books, a case full of papers she wanted to read, and she let Olivia
pick all their clothing. She really didn't care what she wore, she had
always deferred to Olivia's taste, which seemed excellent to her twin
sister.

Olivia read all the magazines from Paris. Victoria preferred political
journals, and underground papers put out by members of the women's
party.

But Olivia was seriously concerned with the state of the house on lower
Fifth Avenue, which had been uninhabited for two years, and seldom
visited for several years before that. It had been comfortable once
upon a time, and much loved long before that, but that had been twenty
years before, and Olivia was sure that it wouldn't be easy giving it a
welcoming feeling. It was, after all, the house where her mother had
died, and she knew how painful her father's memories were of it.

And yet it was also the house where she and Victoria had been born, and
a place where, not long before that, Edward Henderson and his young
bride had been immensely happy.

After seeing to the amenities, and setting Donovan loose in all the
bathrooms with a wrench in each hand, to tighten and loosen whatever
needed it, she had Petrie drive her to the flower market on Sixth Avenue
and Twenty-eighth Street, and she returned two hours later with a carful
of beautiful asters, and fragrant lilies. She was determined to fill
the house with the flowers he loved for her father's arrival two days
later.

Dustcovers were pulled off and put away, rooms were aired, beds were
turned topsy-turvy, mattresses were flipped over, carpets were beaten.

It took an army to do it, but by the following afternoon, Bertie and
Olivia met in the kitchen for a cup of tea, and smiled at what they'd
accomplished. The chandeliers were sparkling, some of the furniture had
been rearranged until rooms were barely recognizable, and Olivia had
pulled all of the heavy curtains back in order to let more light in.

"Your father will be very pleased, " Bertie congratulated her as they
poured a second cup of tea, and Olivia made a note to herself to see
about getting tickets to the theater. There were several new plays
opening, and she and Victoria had vowed to see all of them before they
went back to Croton-on-Hudson. But thinking of that made her wonder
where her sister was. She hadn't seen her since early that morning,
when Victoria had said she was going to the Low Library at Columbia, and
the Metropolitan Museum. It was a long way, and Olivia had offered to
send Petrie with her, but Victoria had insisted on taking the streetcar.

She preferred the adventure. And after that, Olivia had completely
forgotten her, until now when she began getting an uneasy feeling in the
pit of her stomach.

"Do you suppose Father will mind all the furniture we moved? " Olivia
asked distractedly, hoping that Bertie wouldn't detect her growing
worry. Olivia's back was aching from all they had done in the past two
days, but she didn't feel it now as she began to worry about her sister.

She always had an instinctive sense about her, and knew without fail
when Victoria was in trouble. It was something they each had, and had
often talked about. It was a special kind of warning device that told
each of them when the other was either sick or in trouble. And Olivia
wasn't sure what it was telling her this time, but she knew that she was
getting some kind of a signal.

"Your father is going to be so happy to see the house like this, "
Bertie reassured her again, seemingly unaware of Olivia's growing
discomfort. "You must be exhausted."

"Actually, I am, " Olivia confessed uncharacteristically, just so she
could go to her room, and think for a moment. It was four o'clock in
the afternoon, and Victoria had left the house shortly after nine
o'clock that morning. Just thinking about it made Olivia panic, and
berate herself for not insisting on sending someone with her. This was
not Croton-on-Hudson.

Her sister was young and well dressed, and obviously inexperienced in
dealing with big cities. What if she'd been attacked, or kidnapped?

The thought didn't even bear thinking. But as Olivia paced her room,
worrying, she heard the phone ring, and knew instinctively it was her
sister. She flew toward the only phone they had, in the upstairs hall,
and grabbed it before anyone else could answer.

"Hello? " she said breathlessly, sure that it would be Victoria, and
instantly disappointed when it was an unknown male voice. Olivia was
sure it was a wrong number
"Is this the Henderson residence? " the
voice asked in an Irish brogue, as Olivia frowned. They didn't know
anyone in New York, and Olivia couldn't imagine who was calling.

"It is. Who's calling? " she said firmly, feeling her hand tremble as
she held the earpiece in one hand, and the speaker in the other.

"Is this Miss Henderson? " he asked in resounding tones, as Olivia
nodded, and then answered.

"Yes, it is. Who is this? " she insisted.

"This is Sergeant O"Shaunessy at the Fifth Precinct, " he said firmly,
and Olivia held her breath and closed her eyes, knowing what was coming
before he said it.

"I .. . is she all right? .. ." It was barely a whisper.

What if she'd been injured? Kicked by a horse .. . stabbed by a petty
criminal .. .

thrown to the ground and run over by a carriage .. . or a runaway
horse .. . hit by a motorcar .. . Olivia couldn't bear it.

"She's fine." He sounded exasperated, rather than sympathetic.

"She's here wither .. . a group of young ladies .. . and we ..

. uh .. . the lieutenant determined from the look of her that she
didn't ... ah .. . quite belong here. The other .. . er ...
young ladies ... are being detained overnight. To put it quite bluntly, Miss
Henderson, they've all been arrested for demonstrating without a permit.

And if you'll be good enough to come and get your sister immediately,
we'll send her home without booking her, and no one will be the wiser.

But I suggest you don't come down here alone, if there's someone you can
bring with you." Her mind went completely blank. She didn't want
Donovan or Petrie knowing that Victoria had just been picked up by the
police and narrowly missed being arrested, and she certainly didn't want
them telling her father.

"What exactly did she do? " Olivia asked, overwhelmed with gratitude
that they were willing to let Victoria go and not arrest her.

"Demonstrate, like the others, but she's very young, and very foolish,
and she tells me she only got to New York yesterday. I suggest the two
of you go back where you came from as soon as possible, before she gets
herself in more trouble with this damn fool Women's Suffrage Association
she's gotten herself mixed up with. She's giving us quite a time.

She didn't want us to call you. She wants us to arrest her." He said
it with a tone of amusement, as Olivia closed her eyes in horror.

"Oh my God, please don't listen to her. I'll be right there."

"Bring someone with you, " he said again sternly.

"Please don't arrest her, " Olivia breathe into the phone in a whisper,
begging him, but he had no intention of doing that and causing a
scandal. It was easy to see from her shoes, and her clothes, and even
the hat she wore, however "simple" she thought she appeared, that
Victoria did not belong with the others. And he wasn't about to get
kicked off the force for arresting some fancy aristocrat's daughter.

He wanted her off his hands as soon as Olivia could get there.

But Olivia didn't even know where to begin, or who to talk to.

Unlike her sister, she couldn't drive a car, and didn't want to alert
the servants. She'd have to get a cab, it would take too long if she
went by streetcar, and there was absolutely no one she could take with
her, not even Bertie. She couldn't believe what had happened.

Victoria actually wanted them to arrest her. She was completely crazy,
and Olivia promised herself to be absolutely furious as soon as she had
retrieved her from the Fifth Precinct. But first, she had to go get
her.

And as she tried on all the possibilities of how to get to her, how to
get her out, and how to get there in a city she scarcely knew, and had
no idea how to get around in, she realized the sergeant was right, and
she had to bring someone with her. And as much as she hated to do it,
she knew she had to. She had no choice, and she sat down quietly in the
little closet they used for the telephone, and slowly lifted the
receiver.

As soon as the operator came on the line, she gave her the familiar
number.

It was the last thing she wanted to do, but there was simply no one else
to call, not even John Watson, whom she had known all her life.

But she had no doubt whatsoever that if she called him now, he would
tell her father.

The receptionist answered immediately, and told her to wait while she
went to get him. She was extremely attentive once Olivia said who she
was, although she had hoped not to have to. It was four-thirty by then,
and she was terrified he might have left early. But he hadn't, and
Charles Dawson's deep, quiet voice came on the line a moment later.

"Miss Henderson? " He sounded surprised more than anything|d Olivia had
to force herself not to whisper.

I'm terribly sorry to bother you, " she began apologetically.

"Not at all. I'm glad you called." But he could hear in her voice that
something had happened, and he only hoped that nothing had happened to
her father. "Is something wrong? " he asked very gently.

He knew, himself, only too well how swiftly tragedy can strike, and he
sounded incredibly kind as he asked her, and she didn't know how to
answer.

She had to fight back tears as she thought of what Victoria had done
this time. She tried not to think of the disgrace to their father if
Victoria had in fact been arrested, and she wanted to scream with
mortification and fear every time she thought of her sister being held
at the Fifth Precinct.

"I .. . I'm afraid .. . I need your help, Mr. Dawson .

and your absolute discretion." She sounded so worried and he couldn't
even begin to imagine what had happened. "I'm afraid my sister ... I ..
. could you possibly come here to see me? "

"Now? " He had come out of a meeting to speak to her, and he couldn't
imagine what needed his immediate attention. "Is it urgent? "

"Very, " she said, sounding desperate, and he glanced at his watch as he
heard her.

"Shall I come at once? " She nodded, as tears stung her eyes,
momentarily unable to answer, and when she spoke again, he could hear
that she was crying. "I'm terribly sorry .. . I need your help ..

. Victoria has done something terribly foolish." All he could think of
was that she had eloped. She couldn't be injured, or her sister would be
calling a doctor and not an attorney. It was impossible to imagine what
had happened. But he took a cab straight to her front door and was there
less than fifteen minutes later.

Petrie let him in, and Olivia was waiting for him, pacing in the
downstairs salon. Bertie was occupied elsewhere in the house, and
fortunately hadn't heard him.