Twin of Ice (10 page)

Looking at him now, as he sat on the floor opening the champagne, his jacket off, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to the elbows and showing strong, tanned forearms, she thought perhaps she should let him make love to her, then she’d have to marry him no matter what she found out about him.

But that would be cheating.

Carefully arranging her skirts, she sat on the pillows across from him “I have a favor to ask of you,” she began.

“Sure,” he said, mouth full of pâté.

“I’d like to remain a virgin until my wedding.”

Kane choked so badly Houston was worried about him, but he downed half a bottle of the champagne and managed to recover. “It’s nice to hear you are one,” he said at last, tears in his eyes. “I mean what with Westfield and all.”

Houston stiffened.

“Now, don’t go gettin’ your back up. Here, have some of this.” He held out a tulip glass of champagne. “It’s good for you. So, you want to remain a virgin, do you?” he said, as he ladled creamy oyster stew into porcelain bowls. “I guess that means you want me to keep my hands off you.”

He was watching her in an odd way, speculatively.

“Perhaps that would be better,” she said, thinking that if he kept touching her as he had a minute ago, she’d never stay a virgin—nor want to remain one.

“All right,” he said and there was coldness in his voice.

Houston’s eyes widened. No doubt he thought it was because he was once a stableboy and she thought she was better than he was. “No, please,” she began. “It’s not what you think. I—.” She couldn’t tell him what she’d promised her stepfather, or that his hands made her feel far and away from being a lady. She put her hand on his bare forearm.

Kane moved away from her touch. “You made your point. Look, we have an agreement, a contract more or less, and I’ve been breakin’ it. You said you’d pretend we were…in love, I guess, in public and you’ve done that. In private you don’t have to put up with me. I’ll keep my hands off you. In fact, I think it’d be better if I left now. You stay here ’n’ eat and I’ll go to work.”

Before Houston could move, Kane had stood and was halfway across the room.

“Please don’t go,” she cried, leaping up to follow him, then tripping and falling on her long skirts.

He caught her before she hit the hard floor but swiftly released her once she was steadied.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” she began. “It’s not that I don’t
like
your touch,” she began, then stopped, blushed, and looked at her hands. “I mean I…It’s just that I never…And I would like to remain…If possible,” she concluded, looking up at him.

Kane was staring at her quite hard. “You don’t make no sense. You want me to keep my hands off or what? All I asked for in this marriage was a lady in public. In private, this house is big enough you don’t even have to look at my ugly face. It’s your choice, lady.”

A lady must be positive, Houston remembered from school. She put her chin in the air and her shoulders back. “I want to be your wife in private as well as in public, but I also want to remain a virgin until the wedding.”

“Well, who’s stoppin’ you?” Kane glared at her. “Am I haulin’ you upstairs by your hair? Am I forcin’ you into my bed?”

“No, but you are a persuasive asker, Mr. Taggert,” she shot back at him, then put her hand to her mouth.

Understanding lit Kane’s eyes. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, with wonder in his voice. “Who would a thought? Oh well, maybe ladies like stableboys. Come on and sit down and eat,” he said jovially. “A good asker, am I?” He grinned as she sat down across from him.

With all her heart, Houston wished she’d never brought the subject up.

The intimate little dinner Houston’d planned turned into controlled chaos. Edan came in before the soup was finished and handed Kane papers he had to read and sign. Kane invited him to eat with them, and they proceeded to talk business throughout the meal.

Houston silently watched the sun set through the long windows. Mrs. Murchison went in and out bearing great quantities of delicious food, which were consumed down to the last crumb.

Kane kept giving the woman compliments, which ranged from a mumbled “damned good” to, when she brought in an enormous baked Alaska, asking her to run away with him and live in sin. Mrs. Murchison giggled and blushed like a schoolgirl.

Houston, remembering the cook’s remark that she was cooking all Mr. Kane’s favorite foods, said, “What are your favorite foods, Mr. Taggert?”

He looked at her over the top of some papers. “Anything that tastes good and that includes pretty ladies.”

With pinkened cheeks, Houston looked away.

At nine o’clock she rose. “I must leave now. Thank you so much for the dinner, Mr. Taggert.” She really didn’t think he’d notice whether she was there or not.

Kane caught the hem of her dress. “You can’t leave yet. I want to talk to you.”

Without yanking her skirt away, she couldn’t leave, so she stood still, looking at a wall panel over the heads of the two men seated at her feet.

“I think I’m the one who should go,” Edan said, beginning to gather papers.

“We ain’t done yet,” Kane said.

“Don’t you think you should spend a little time alone with your bride?” Edan asked pointedly. “I’ll tell Mrs. Murchison to go home.” He stood. “Houston, thank you for dinner. I enjoyed it very much.” Edan left the room, closing the door behind him.

Houston didn’t move, but stood just where she was, not looking down at him.

He tugged on her skirt a few times, but when she didn’t respond, he stood and looked at her. “I think you’re mad at me.”

Houston looked away. “That’s utterly ridiculous. It’s quite late, Mr. Taggert, and I must go home. My parents will be worried.”

Kane put his hand on her cheek, cupping her face. “It was real nice of you to fix up this dinner with the candles an’ all.”

“I’m glad you were pleased. Now I must—.”

He pulled her into his arms. “All night I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said, about how I could talk you into things,” he said, his lips against her neck.

“Please don’t,” she said, ineffectually pushing at him.

He moved his hand up to her carefully arranged hair, buried his fingers in it and slowly began to work his way through. Her thick, soft hair fell about her shoulders and Kane ran the fingers of both his hands through it.

“Pretty,” he murmured, looking at her, their faces very close. The next moment he tilted her head to the side and began to kiss her in a way that made her feel as if she were dissolving. He played with her lips, pulling the lower one out with his teeth, touching the tip of his tongue to her lip.

Houston stood still as waves of feeling coursed through her body. Then, with abandon, she put her arms about his neck and pressed her body against his. Kane reacted instantly, pulling her close, bending her to fit the planes of his big body.

When he began to bend his knees and descend to the carpet and pillows, Houston didn’t even consider protesting, but clung to him as if he were a life-giving force. His lips never left hers as they lay side by side on the carpet.

Kane ran his hand down her hip and thigh as his mouth travelled down her neck.

“Kane,” she whispered, her head back, her leg pressed between his.

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m here,” he whispered, his voice sending chills down her body.

His hand pulled her dress up to explore her legs, quickly finding the bare expanse of thigh above her gartered stockings and under her long, loose drawers.

Houston had no mind, no thoughts at all, but only felt the heavenly sensations of his hand on her skin, his lips on her face. Instinctively, she moved closer to him, wedged her leg between his even tighter.

With a groan, Kane pushed her away, lay beside her, looking at her for just a second, then stood.

“Get up,” he said coldly and walked away, his back to her as he looked out the dark window.

Houston felt dirty, humiliated, cheated, as she lay on the rug, her skirts hiked about her waist. Swift tears came to her eyes as she slowly stood and tried to regain her composure.

“Go fix your hair,” Kane said, not turning around. “Fix your hair and I’ll take you home to your mother.”

As quickly as she could, Houston fled the room, her hand to her mouth to prevent a sob coming out.

The two bathrooms downstairs were off the kitchen and in Kane’s office. She didn’t want to risk seeing either Edan or Mrs. Murchison so she ran upstairs to a bath near Kane’s bedroom.

Once inside the marble-covered room, she gave herself over to tears. He’d wanted to marry a lady, and he was disgusted that she’d acted like a harlot. Yet this was what Blair had meant when she’d said she saw sparks when Leander kissed her. Never had Lee’s kisses made her feel anything, but Kane’s…

She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes alive and sparkling, her mouth slightly swollen, her cheeks pink, her hair wild about her shoulders. This was not the lady he’d wanted. No wonder he pushed her away from him.

Again, the tears began to flow.

As soon as Houston left the drawing room, Kane made his way to his office, where Edan sat behind the desk, his nose in a pile of papers.

“Houston leave?” Edan asked absently. When Kane didn’t answer, the blond man looked up to see Kane, with shaking hands, pour himself a water glass half full of whiskey.

“What have you done to her?” Edan asked, barely concealed anger in his voice. “I told you she wasn’t like other women.”

“What the hell do you know about her? And you should damn well ask what she’s done to me. I want you to hitch up her buggy and take her home.”

“What happened?”

“Women!” Kane said in disgust. “They never act the way they’re supposed to. There’s only one reason why I ever wanted to marry a lady and—.”

“Fenton again,” Edan said tiredly.

“You’re damned right, Fenton!” Kane half shouted. “Everything I’ve ever done, all I’ve ever worked for, I’ve done in order to repay Fenton for what he did to me. All those years of work, the years I spent scrapin’, I had one dream and that was that someday he’d come to dinner at my house.
My
house would be four times the size of his and sittin’ at the foot of the table would be my wife, the woman he once denied me, his precious daughter Pamela.”

“But you’ve had to make do with another woman,” Edan said. “Isn’t Houston to your liking?”

Kane took a deep drink of his whiskey. “She puts on a damn good act,” he said. “She must want my money
real
bad.”

“And what if she’s not after your money? What if she wants a husband, children?”

Kane shrugged. “She can get ’em later. All I want is to show up Fenton. I want to sit in my own dinin’ room with one of those Chandlers there as my wife.”

“And what do you plan to do with Houston after this dinner? She’s not a pair of shoes that you can throw away.”

“I’m buyin’ her some jewelry. She can keep it and, if I can’t find a buyer, I’ll give her this house.”

“Just like that?” Edan asked. “You’re going to tell her to go away, that you’re through with her?”

“She’ll be glad to get rid of me.” He finished the whiskey. “And I don’t have time for a woman in my life. Take her home, will you?” With that, he left the room.

Houston cried herself to deep that night. Her confusion was what made her so miserable. Most of her life she’d lived under the rule of her stepfather, and Duncan Gates had rigid ideas of what a lady should and should not do. Houston had always tried to live up to his ideas. Any time she’d broken rules she’d done so in secret.

With Leander, she’d conducted herself with absolute restraint. He needed a lady for a wife and Houston had become that lady. In public and in private, she’d been a lady. Her conduct was always perfect.

Yet Leander had actually wanted someone who was far and away from being a lady. The words he’d said about how wonderful Blair was were burned on her heart.

And then Kane came along, so different from Lee, with none of Lee’s polish, none of Lee’s sense of self-worth. But Kane’d wanted a lady, and when she wasn’t one…

She’d never forget the look of disgust on his face after she’d rolled about on the floor with him.

How could she please a man? She’d thought Lee wanted a lady, but he hadn’t. She had thought she’d learned from that experience that what men really wanted was a woman of passion. But Kane didn’t. He wanted a lady.

The more she thought, the more she cried.

Later in the day, when Blair came to Houston’s room, she saw her sister’s red, swollen eyes and slipped into bed with her. For a while they didn’t speak, but Houston began crying again.

“Is your life so awful?” Blair asked.

Sniffling, Houston nodded against Blair’s shoulder.

“Taggert?” Blair asked.

Again Houston nodded. “I don’t know what he wants from me.”

“Anything he can get, most likely,” Blair said. “You don’t have to marry him. No one’s forcing you to. If you’d make it clear that you want Leander, I think you could get him back.”

“Leander wants you,” Houston said, sitting up.

“He only wants me because I gave him what you wouldn’t,” Blair said. “Houston, you love Leander. Heaven only knows why, but you do, you have for years. Think what marriage to him would mean. You could five in the house he built for you, have your children and—.”

“No,” Houston said, taking a handkerchief from a bedside drawer. “Leander belongs to you in a way he never belonged to me. He’d much rather have you.”

“No, he wouldn’t! You don’t know what you’re saying. He doesn’t like me at all. This morning at the hospital he said I was a puppet-doctor, that I did more harm than good and—.” She buried her face in her hands.

“Maybe he doesn’t like your doctoring but he
loves
your kisses,” Houston said angrily. “Oh, Blair, I am sorry. I’m just tired and upset. Perhaps it’s nerves before the wedding.”

“What did Taggert do to you?”

“Nothing,” Houston said, hiding her face in the handkerchief. “He’s always been more than honest with me. I think perhaps I lie to myself.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. I have work to do,” she said as she got out of the bed. “There’s so much to do to get ready for the wedding.”

“You’re still going to marry him?” Blair asked softly.

“If he’ll have me,” Houston whispered, her back to her sister. After last night, Houston thought, he may have changed his mind, and the prospect of life without Kane’s moods—as well as his kisses—made a barren-looking future. She pictured herself sitting quietly in a rocker with her crochet hook.

“Do you want to help me with the wedding arrangements?” Houston asked, turning back to her sister. “Or would you rather leave everything to me?”

“I don’t want to even think of marriage, not mine to Leander, and especially not yours to Taggert. Lee’s just angry about what happened and I’m sure that if you—.”

“Leander and I are dead to each other!” Houston snapped. “Can’t I make you see that? Lee wants you, not me. It’s Kane…” She turned away. “I’m going to marry Mr. Taggert in ten days.”

Blair jumped out of the bed. “You may think that you failed with Leander, but you didn’t. And you don’t have to punish yourself with that overbearing oaf. He can’t even handle a plate of food, much less—.”

Blair stopped because Houston slapped her across the face.

“He’s the man I’m going to marry,” Houston said, anger in her words. “I’ll not let you or anyone else denigrate him.”

With her hand to her cheek, Blair’s eyes filled with tears. “What I’ve done is coming between us,” she whispered. “No man anywhere means more than sisters,” she said before leaving the room.

For a moment, Houston sat on the bed. She wanted to comfort Blair but didn’t know how. What was Kane doing to her that would make her slap her own sister?

And the next question was, did Kane still want to marry her?

With shaking hands, she sat down at her desk and wrote a note to her fiancé.

She sealed the letter and had Susan give it to Willie to deliver.

When Kane received the letter, he snorted.

“Bad news?” Edan asked.

Kane started to hand the letter to Edan but, instead, slipped it into his pocket. “It’s from Houston. You know, I don’t think I ever met anybody quite like her. Weren’t you goin’ into town later?”

Edan nodded.

“Stop by one of the jewelry stores and buy a dozen rings, all different colors, and send them over to Houston’s house.”

“Any message?”

Kane smiled. “No, the rings oughta be enough. Now, where were we?”

At four o’clock, Mr. Weatherly, of Weatherly’s Jewels and Coronation Gifts, came rushing up the steps of the Chandler house.

“I have a package for Miss Houston,” he said excitedly to Susan, who answered the door.

Susan led him into the parlor where Opal and a subdued Houston sat, surrounded by lists of wedding, preparations.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Weatherly,” Opal said. “Could I get you some tea?”

“No, thank you,” he said, looking at Houston, lights dancing in his eyes. “This is for you.” He thrust a large, thin black velvet box at her.

Puzzled, but with a glimmer of hope blossoming within her, Houston took the box. All day had been miserable as she tried to plan a wedding that might not happen. And to make things worse, at noon, Mr. Gates had come home for dinner and privately informed her that he’d made an appointment for her to meet with Marc Fenton tomorrow morning. He was holding her to her promise to ask questions about Kane.

When Houston opened the box and saw the rings, she had to blink back tears of relief. “How pretty,” she said with outward calm as she looked at each one: two emeralds, a pearl, a sapphire, a ruby, three diamond rings, an amethyst, one ring with three opals, a ring of carved coral and one of jade.

“Could have knocked me over with a feather,” Mr. Weatherly was saying. “That blond fella that follows Mr. Taggert around came in an hour ago and asked for a dozen rings, and they were all for Miss Houston.”

“Mr. Taggert didn’t choose them himself?” Houston asked.

“It was his idea; the blond man said so.”

Very calmly, Houston stood, the closed box of rings in her hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Weatherly, for coming personally with the rings. Perhaps you’d like to see them, Mother,” she said, handing the box to Opal. “I’m sure they need to be sized. Good day, Mr. Weatherly.”

As Houston went upstairs to her room, her heart lightened. The rings themselves didn’t matter, but he’d read her note and he meant to marry her. That was what was important. Of course, he hadn’t asked to see her but soon they’d be married and he’d see her every day.

Upstairs, she began to dress for dinner.

Houston smiled at Marc Fenton, who sat across from her in Miss Emily’s quiet, pink and white Tea Shop. Opal had taken a seat not far away, but she tried to leave them their privacy. Mr. Gates had insisted that Opal accompany Houston because he said he had no more faith in the morals of young Americans.

Marc was a good-looking man, short, stocky, blond, with wide-set blue eyes and an infectious grin.

“I hear you’ve made the catch of the season, Houston,” Marc was saying, as he took another raisin tart onto his plate. “Everyone’s whispering about how he’s half barbarian and half knight-on-a-white-horse. Which one is the real Kane Taggert?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“I thought perhaps you could tell me. Mr. Taggert used to work for you.”

“He left when I was seven years old! I barely remember the man.”

“But what do you remember?”

“He used to scare me to death,” Marc laughed. “He ran that stable like his own private domain and nobody, including my father, trespassed.”

“Even your sister, Pamela?” Houston asked, as she idly toyed with her teacup.

“So that’s what you want to know about.” He laughed again. “I knew nothing of what was going on. One day, both Taggert and my sister were gone. You know, to this day, I still get a little nervous when I take a horse and don’t ask permission.”

“Why did your sister leave?” Houston persisted.

“Father married her off immediately. I don’t think he wanted to take any more chances on his daughter falling in love with another stableboy.”

“Where is Pam now?”

“I rarely see her. She moved to Cleveland with her husband, had a kid, and stayed there. He died a few months ago and her kid was very sick for a long time. She’s had it rough in the last year.”

“Is she—?”

Marc leaned forward in conspiracy. “If you want to know more about the man you’re planning to marry, you ought to talk to Lavinia LaRue.”

“I don’t believe I know her.”

Marc leaned back with a smile. “Of course you don’t. She’s Taggert’s light skirt.”

“His…?”

“His mistress, Houston. I have to go now,” he said, rising, leaving money on the table.

Houston also rose, put her hand on his arm. “Where do I find Miss Larule?”

“LaRue, Lavinia LaRue, and ask down on Crescent Street.”

“Crescent Street?” Houston’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been there.”

“Send Willie. He knows his way around there. Meet her somewhere private. You don’t want to be seen with the Lavinia LaRues of this world. Good luck on your wedding, Houston,” he said over his shoulder as he left.

“Did you find out what you wanted?” Opal asked her daughter.

“I think I found out much more than I wanted to know.”

Houston spent the rest of Friday and all day Saturday making arrangements for the double wedding, ordering flowers, planning for food to be cooked and served.

“You haven’t seen Kane in how many days, dear?” Opal asked.

“A matter of hours,” Houston answered, not letting her mother see her face. She was not going to throw herself at Kane again. She’d made a fool of herself already and she didn’t need to do it again.

On Saturday, there were other matters to consider. Mr. Gates started yelling at five in the morning, waking everyone to announce that Blair had been out all night. Opal reassured him that Blair had been out with Lee, but that made Mr. Gates worse. He shouted that Blair would have no reputation left, and that Lee would have to marry her today.

Between Houston and Opal, they managed to get him to settle down enough to eat breakfast and it was while they were eating that Blair and Leander walked into the room.

And what a sight they were! Blair was wearing an odd garment of navy blue, the skirt barely to her ankles. Her hair was down about her shoulders and all of her was covered with mud, cockleburs, and what looked to be dried blood. Lee was as bad, wearing only a shirt and trousers, holes in his pants and his sleeve.

“Lee,” Opal said breathlessly. “Are those bullet holes?”

“Probably,” he said, grinning good-naturedly. “You can see that I brought her back safe and sound. I need to go home and get some sleep. I’m on duty this afternoon.” He turned to Blair, caressed her cheek for a moment. “Good night, doctor.”

“Good night, doctor,” she said, and he was gone.

For a moment no one could move, as they all stared at the bedraggled figure of Blair. For all her appearance of looking as if she’d been through three catastrophes, there was a light in her eyes that was close to fire.

Houston rose from the table and, as she got closer to her sister, she could smell her.

“Whatever is in your hair?”

Blair grinned idiotically. “Horse manure I would imagine. But at least it’s in my hair and not on his chin.”

Houston could hear Mr. Gates starting to move behind her. She grabbed Blair’s arm firmly. “Upstairs!” she ordered.

Houston led Blair to the bathroom, turned on the tub taps and began undressing her sister. “Wherever did you get this extraordinary suit?”

Once Blair started talking, she didn’t seem able to stop. Houston unbuttoned her, unlaced a shoe while Blair got the other one, shampooed her sister’s hair while Blair scoured the dirt off her skin—and all the while, Blair talked about what a wonderful day she’d had with Leander, telling the most horrifying stories about maggots, range wars, cut arteries and a wrestle with a woman. And in every story, Leander was there, saving one life after another, and at one point, even saving Blair’s life.

Houston could barely believe that the Leander Blair was raving about was the remote man she’d known for years. According to Blair, Leander was close to magic when it came to being a doctor.

“Fourteen holes in that man’s intestines! And Lee sewed them all,” she said, as Houston rinsed her hair, then shampooed it again. “Fourteen.”

And the more Blair talked, the worse Houston felt. Leander had never once looked at her as he’d looked at Blair this morning, nor had he taken her with him on his calls—not that she wanted to see the inner workings of a man’s digestive system, but the sharing was what she wanted.

Blair had Leander, and after only a few days, he was hers in a way Houston had never had him. And now she didn’t seem to have Kane either. Should she go to him? Eventually they’d have to see one another to talk about the wedding. Houston imagined showing up at his house. No doubt he’d say, “I knew you’d give in. You couldn’t stay away too long.”