Mirror Image (7 page)

"It must be extraordinary, " he said thoughtfully. "I can't imagine
having anyone that you're that close to. Except maybe a husband or a
wife, but even then. You two almost seem like two halves of the same
person."

"Sometimes I think we are, " and then she looked toward the second
floor, glowering expressively, "and at other times, I think we're
strangers. We're very different in some ways, and completely alike in
others." In looks certainly, despite their very different personalities,
he still could not actually see a difference between them.

"Does it bother you that people confuse you all the time? I suppose that
could be very annoying." He was fascinated by them, and he liked being
able to ask Olivia these questions.

"You get used to it. We used to think it was funny. Now, it's just the
way things are." It was so easy talking to him, and he seemed
comfortable speaking to Olivia as well. She was the sort of woman he
could be friends with. And yet it was Victoria he was mesmerized by, and
tongue-tied with. He couldn't tell them apart, and yet some deep, inner
part of him sensed when he was in Victoria's presence, and something
about her turned him topsy-turvy. But Olivia with her gentle ways made
him feel comfortable, and at ease, like a dear friend or an affectionate
younger sister.

He left a few minutes after that, and she closed the door quietly behind
him, and walked slowly upstairs to talk to her sister.

Victoria was sitting in her room, staring unhappily out the window,
thinking of the afternoon, and how foolish she had felt when the
sergeant had separated her from the others.

"How am I going to show my face to them again? " she asked unhappily as
Olivia watched her.

"You shouldn't have been with them in the first place." Olivia sighed,
and sat down on the bed, facing her sister. "You can't keep doing things
like this, Victoria. You can't go off chasing some wild idea, without
thinking of the consequences. People can get hurt by it, you can get
hurt by it. I don't want that to happen." Victoria looked slowly at her,
and the light that Charles saw in her eyes burned very brightly. "What
if more people are helped than hurt?

What if one had to die for an idea, a cause, in order to make the right
things happen? You know, I know it must sound crazy to you, but
sometimes I think I'd be willing to do that." The worst of it was that
Olivia knew in her heart of hearts that Victoria was being truthful.

She had that kind of fire in her, that bright, burning thing at her core
that would allow her to die for an ideal, or follow what she believed in
all the way to the horizon.

"You frighten me when you say things like that, " Olivia said quietly,
and Victoria reached out and took her hand and held it.

"I don't mean to. I think that's just who I am. I'm not you, Ollie.

Even though we look so much alike, how could we be so different
"Different and the same, " Olivia said, puzzling over the mystery that
had followed them since they were born, so much the same in so many
ways, so totally different in others.

"I'm sorry about this afternoon. I didn't mean to scare you." Contrite
at last, not because of what she'd done, but because she had upset her
sister. Victoria loved Olivia too much to hurt her.

"I knew something was wrong. I felt it here." She touched her stomach,
and Victoria nodded. They were both familiar with that sensation.

"What time? " Victoria asked with interest. The telepathy between them
had always intrigued her.

"Two o'clock, " Olivia said, and Victoria nodded. They were both used to
the phenomenon which always seemed to tell each of them when the other
was in trouble.

"Just about right. I think that's when they picked us up, and tossed us
in the wagon."

"That must have been charming, " Olivia said, looking disapproving
again, but Victoria laughed, looking highly amused about it.

"Actually, I thought it was pretty funny. They were so determined to get
everyone in, and no one wanted to be left out. They all wanted to be
arrested." Victoria laughed more, and Olivia groaned, remembering the
phone call from Sergeant O"Shaunessy at the Fifth Precinct.

"I'm glad they didn't arrest you, " Olivia said firmly.

"Why did you call him? " Victoria asked her then, combing her eyes with
her own, looking for unspoken answers. There were a myriad of things
that always went unsaid, but were clearly understood, between them.

"I didn't know who else to call. And I didn't want to take Donovan or
Petrie. I was afraid to come alone, and they told me not to when they
called me."

"You could have though. You didn't need him. He's so insignificant."

Victoria brushed Charles Dawson aside with a wave of her hand. To her,
he was entirely unimportant. She didn't see any of the merit in him that
Olivia did. Nor any of the interest.

"He's not insignificant, " Olivia defended him. He was subdued, one
could see easily that his fire had been dimmed, but he had been dealt a
cruel blow by one of life's swift hands, and Olivia felt desperately
sorry for him. It didn't make her pity him, but she liked him. She could
see the merit in the man, the man he might have been before, and could
be again, with a little kindness, and perhaps even the right woman.
"He's wounded, " Olivia explained.

"Spare me." Victoria grinned, easily unkind, and quick to dispense with
the impaired or injured.

"That's not fair. He came here in ten minutes today in order to help
you."

"Our father is probably one of his biggest clients."

"That's a disgusting thing to say. He could have told me he was busy."

"Perhaps he likes you, " Victoria said mischievously, but without much
interest.

"Or you, " Olivia said fairly.

"Maybe he still can't tell the difference, " Victoria said truthfully.

"That doesn't make him a bad person. Father can't always tell the
difference between us either. Bertie is the only one who ever could."

"Maybe she's the only one who ever cared enough to, " Victoria said
cruelly.

"Why are you so unkind sometimes? " Olivia said unhappily. She hated it
when her sister said things like that. Sometimes she could be so
unfeeling.

"Maybe that's just the way I am." Victoria looked matter-of fact, but
not remorseful. "I'm hard on myself too. I expect a lot of everyone,
Ollie. I expect to do more with my life than just sit here, and go to
parties and balls and the theater." She sounded suddenly very grown-up
and Olivia was surprised by what she was saying.

"I thought you wanted to come to New York. You're the one who always
complains about being stuck in boring old Croton-on hudson."

"I know I do, and I love being here, but it's not just the social life I
want. I want something important to happen in my life too. I want to
make a difference in the world. I want to stand for some thing more than
just being Edward Henderson's daughter." She looked so intense and alive
as she said it.

"It sounds so noble when you talk about it that way." Olivia smiled at
her twin. Victoria had such grandiose ideas sometimes, and yet Olivia
knew she really meant them. But still, she was a child in a way, and
sometimes a very spoiled one. She wanted everything, people and fun and
parties and New York, and there was a serious side to her too, that
wanted to fight all the battles, right all the injustices, and make a
difference in the world. She didn't know exactly what she wanted yet,
but Olivia sensed sometimes that Victoria would do a lot more with her
life than just live in Croton.

"What about being someone's wife? " Olivia asked her quietly, it was
something she thought about once in a while, although she couldn't
really imagine ever leaving her father. He needed her too badly.

"That's not what I want, " Victoria said firmly. "I don't want to belong
to anyone, like a table or a chair, or a motorcar. This is my wife, it's
like saying this is my hat, or my overcoat, or my dog. I don't want to
belong' to anyone, like an object."

"You've been spending too much time with those ridiculous suffragettes,
" Olivia growled at her. She disagreed with almost everything they said,
except maybe about voting. But all their ideas about freedom and
independence seemed to be at the expense of values that Olivia cherished
more, like family and children, and being respectful of one's father or
husband.

She didn't believe in the kind of anarchy they were preaching, although
Victoria said she did, but Olivia sometimes wondered. Victoria liked
smoking and stealing her father's car, and going places by herself, and
even risking arrest to stand up for something she believed in, but she
loved their father as dearly as anyone, and Olivia had the feeling that
if the right man came along, Victoria would fall for him as hard as any
other woman would, possibly harder. She was filled with fire, and
beliefs that she was almost willing to die for, and a kind of unbridled
passion. How could she say she never wanted to "belong" to anyone, or be
a man's wife? It just wasn't like her.

"I'm serious, " Victoria said quietly. "I made up my mind a long time
ago. I don't want to get married." She looked incredibly beautiful as
she said it, and Olivia smiled, thinking that she didn't believe her.

"When was a long time ago'? At the suffragettes' meeting you went to
today, or the one last week? I don't think you know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do. I'm never going to get married." She said it calmly and
firmly, with total conviction. "Actually, I don't think marriage would
suit me."

"How can you possibly know that? Are you telling me that you're going to
stay at home with Father and take care of him? " The idea of it was
sounding more ridiculous by the moment.

Olivia might stay home and take care of him in his last years, but not
Victoria. They both knew she didn't have it in her. Or at least Olivia
knew it, she wondered if Victoria hadn't figured that out yet.

Could she really believe that she would be happy at home with him in
Croton? Not likely.

"I didn't say that. But maybe I'll go to live in Europe one day, when
we're older. Actually, I think I'd like living in England." The cause of
women's freedom was a lot more developed there, though it was not any
better received than in New York, or elsewhere in the United States. In
the past few months alone, at least half a dozen major suffragettes had
been arrested and sent to prison in England.

But Olivia was surprised by the things Victoria had said, particularly
about never getting married, and living in Europe. It all sounded so
foreign, and so strange, to Olivia, and it reminded her again of how
different they were. In spite of the similar instincts they sometimes
shared, and their apparent similarities, there were some enormous
differences between them.

"Maybe you should marry Charles Dawson, " Victoria was teasing her by
then, as they both began dressing for dinner with Bertie. "Since you
think he's so sweet. Maybe you'd like being married to him, " Victoria
said, as she did up the slide fastener on the back of Olivia's dress,
and then turned around to have hers done in turn. It was a new invention
that had just come into fashion that year, and it was incredibly easy,
and a vast improvement over rows of tiny buttons that tangled one's
fingers.

"Don't be stupid, " Olivia said of her sister's comment about Charles
Dawson. "I've only met him twice in my life, " Olivia said quietly.

"But you like him. Don't lie to me. I can see it."

"All right, so I like him. So what? He's intelligent and pleasant to
talk to, and terribly useful when my sister winds up in jail.