Casteel 05 Web of Dreams (32 page)

"I'll be bored to death until Momma comes home!" I cried. That was when little Troy's eyes filled with tears too.
"No, you won't," Tony said, suddenly smiling. "I'm taking a short vacation and with the weather so wonderful, there will be much to do. We'll go horseback riding. I've filled and started heating the outdoor pool . ."
"It's not the same thing!" I declared. I threw my napkin down on my plate of food. "I feel trapped."
"Now Leigh, please don't have a tantrum. Everything has been going so well while your mother's been away, I would hate. . ."
"I don't care. It's not fair," I repeated and got up from the table.
"Leigh!" Tony cried, but I ran out of the room and upstairs to my suite, throwing myself over my bed. I held Angel and sobbed until I could sob no more. Then I sat up and wiped my eyes and gazed at my beautiful doll. She looked so sympathetic and sad, too.
"Oh, Angel," I said, "why can't I be like other young people my age and live in a normal home with a normal family, so I could do things girls my age want to do? I don't care about all this wealth. What good is it if it doesn't make me happy?"
I sighed. Of course, my doll couldn't answer, but it made me feel better talking to her.
I stood up with Angel in my arms and went to the window that overlooked the front grounds. "It's going to be like being in prison, Angel My friends can't come here and I can't go to see them until Momma returns. What will I tell Joshua when he calls? What will I tell Jen? It's embarrassing.
"How can Tony think I would be happy just being with him? I like to go horseback riding and swimming, yes; but I would like to do some of that with my friends and not my mother's husband."
As if he heard me speaking about him, he suddenly appeared below, walking briskly down a garden walkway, heading for the English maze. In moments he disappeared within. I was sure he was going to the cottage. But why? Why did he keep it as an art studio still? Why had he lied to me too, about the new painting when I had asked him? He said he wasn't designing a new kind of portrait doll. Then what was he doing?
Out of curiosity as well as boredom and frustration, I put Angel back on my bed and hurried downstairs, slipping out a side entrance of Farthy to follow him. I didn't want Troy to see me and want to know where I was going or what I was doing. He'd cry to come along.
Daylight lasted much later now, but the bright orange sun dropping reluctantly below the horizon made the world seem so dreamlike and ethereal. The birds had already settled in, only a few still chirping. There were no terns crying. The blue sky was turning inky in the east and I thought I could see the first twinkling of a distant star as it emerged slowly out of the great vastness of space.
I hurried over the grass and slipped softly like a spy into the long, wide shadows cast by the tall hedges. I looked back only once at the great house. I had left the lights on in my suite and saw my wallpaper and curtains. Then I turned, listened, and stepped into the maze.
Never had it seemed as quiet in these corridors or as dark. I realized I had
never gone into it this late in the day and never at night. How would I find my way back? Would it be too dark in the middle, even now? I hesitated. How did Tony get through it and how would he come back?
Still driven by overwhelming curiosity, I continued down the first corridor, turning quickly around the first and second corners and then moving as quietly as I could through the center of the maze. The only sounds were the soft crunch of my feet over some fallen twigs and my own heavy breathing. Finally, I steeped out on the other side and confronted the cottage. The shades were still drawn, but I could tell that the lights within burned brightly.
Could it be that Tony had another young model, someone he wanted kept secret? Was he afraid I would be jealous? Or that Momma would be angry ad jealous? Hovering in the shadows now cast by the trees, I scurried down to the small fence and listened. There was some soft music playing, but I heard no voices.
Carefully, I passed through the front gate and went to the first window. It was difficult to see within because the shade had been drawn so tightly. I could make out only the legs of the easel. I moved down to the second window. This would offer me a much better view of what was going on within because the shade was short of touching the bottom by at least four inches. The window looked in on the room from a rear perspective. I would be looking toward the front door from behind the easel.
I knelt down slowly and peered over the bottom of the window frame through the opening. Tony wasn't in the room, but the painting I had discovered when I had brought Joshua to the cottage was there.
I gasped when I saw what Tony had added to it.
He had drawn and painted in himself lying naked beside the female figure that combined so many characteristics of my mother with me. Why did he do that? What did it mean?
Before I could rise and leave, he emerged from the kitchen.
I gasped again. He was stark naked!
He stopped abruptly and looked my way. I felt icicles dripping down my neck and for a moment, I couldn't move. Did he see me?
Without any hesitation, I jumped up and ran as fast as I could to the front gate, opened it and scurried as quickly as my feet would permit until I was charging down the corridor of hedges in the maze.

Because of my excitement and the dim light, I made a few wrong turns and found myself running in circles through the center of the maze. Frantic, wet with perspiration, I stopped to catch my breath. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it would shatter from the effort and pressure. I took deep breaths and tried desperately to get a hold of myself so I could think calmly and restore my sense of direction. Leaning too far back, I got my hair caught in some branches and screamed because I didn't know what was happening. I thought someone had grabbed me. Once I understood, I pulled myself loose quickly and continued.

Carefully I chose one turn and then another, forcing myself to move slowly and accurately through the hedges until I saw the familiar entrance on the Farthy side and shot out. I stopped again to catch my breath and listen. Had Tony seen me? Was he in pursuit? I heard no footsteps, nothing.

Still, I hurriedly returned to the house and ran upstairs to my suite. As soon as I entered, I shut my door and leaned back against it. Behind my closed eyelids, I once again saw that new painting. Tony's left hand completely covered my right breast and he was smiling down at me, his cerulean blue eyes painted so brightly they looked absolutely luminous in the picture.

Then I again envisioned him emerging naked from the kitchen. I assumed he had taken off his clothing because he had been using himself as a model. There was probably a mirror set against a wall, I thought. What other reason would he have for undressing while he worked?

He hadn't shouted out or quickly dressed to pursue me. Perhaps he hadn't seen me peeping through the window after all. I decided not to say anything about it. When my mother returned, I would tell her. She should know about something like this. It was so bizarre.

I relaxed now that I was safe in my own room. My body was still sticky with sweat, my silk blouse clinging to my arms and chest as if it had been glued to me. I felt ratty, dirty, not only from the flight through the hedges, but from what I had seen. I shook my head and shuddered. Then I embraced myself like someone caught in a snowstorm and hurried across my suite to my bathroom to run a warm bath. I shook in some bubble bath powder and watched the water turn aqua, the sweet scent circling around me like smoke.

I went to my dresser and chose a nightgown. After I hung it up on the bathroom door, I sat down at the vanity table and brushed out my hair. Some tiny twigs and leaves fell on the table. Looking in the mirror, I saw my face was still quite flushed, my cheeks bright red as if they had been slapped. I sat back for a moment in a daze. Then I remembered my bath and got up quickly. I stripped off my clothing as fast as I could and lowered myself into the soothing, tepid, perfumed liquid. It embraced me and I closed my eyes and lay back, moaning with pleasure.

I might have fallen asleep in the water for a few minutes. I don't know; I lost track of time. Suddenly, I opened my eyes and realized the bath had cooled down considerably. I rose out of it immediately and dried myself. Then I put on my nightgown and slipped under my soft blanket, searching for the security and warmth of my own bed. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget the whole day.

When I gazed out the window to my left, I saw a slice of the silvery moon gleaming through some gauzelike clouds. Above it a single bright star blinked like the light of a ship anchored for the evening somewhere far out on the inky ocean. The moonlight flowed into my room, turning my furniture into ghostlike silhouettes, but Angel's eyes twinkled reassuringly. I reached out and took hold of the doll's little hand. Then I closed my eyes and let myself sink into sleep, anxious for the peace and the darkness.

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open. I sensed I was not alone. I didn't move; I listened keenly and waited. There was the distinct sound of someone else's heavy breathing. Gradually, in tiny increments of movement, I turned in my bed until I was completely on my back, looking up. In the same silvery moonlight that had soothed and sent me into sleep stood Tony Tatterton, his naked chest glistening. I was trembling so hard, I thought I would stutter when I spoke, but ray words came out straight and true.

"Tony, what do you want?" I demanded. "Oh Leigh, my Leigh," he whispered. "It's time to bring the painting to life. It's time for me to do what I promised: to show you, to
^-
teach you . . ."
"What do you mean? What do you want? I'm sleeping now. Please, leave," I begged, but he didn't. He sat on the side of my bed. I was afraid to lower my eyes, to follow the lines of his body, for I could sense without looking that he was completely naked.
"You're as beautiful as your mother," he said reaching out to stroke my hair. "More beautiful. Men will seek you everywhere you go, but you are like a precious work of art. You shouldn't be touched and misused by anyone. You're too special; yet you have to know what it means and what can happen. You have to be prepared and be aware. I can do that for you. I'm the only one who should do that for you, for in a way, I have created you."
He brought his hand to my face. I tried to pull back, but I was already against the pillow.
"I have lifted you from the canvas and like Pygmalion, filled you with life and beauty. Everyone who feasts his eyes on the portrait doll feasts his eyes on your beauty, beauty I carved with these very fingers," he said running the tips of his fingers along my jawline and down to my neck.
"Tony, I want you to leave right now. Please, get out of here this moment," I demanded in a shaky voice. I couldn't help it. My heart was thumping and I was swallowing my own breath, gasping for enough air to form words and demands.
He acted as if he didn't hear me. Instead of leaving, he peeled away my blanket, folded it neatly down my body. I reached up to tug it back, but he caught my hand and brought it to his lips.
"Leigh," he moaned. "My portrait doll."
"Tony, get out. What are you doing?"
I raised my head and shoulders and saw that he was indeed completely naked. He slipped in beside me, his hands on my thighs, forcing my nightgown up my body. I wanted to speak and tell him I was almost his daughter, and he shouldn't be here doing these things, but I couldn't catch my breath. He had brought my nightgown over my waist.
I pushed out to keep him away, pressing on his forehead, but he was so strong and determined.
"Tony, what do you think you're doing? Get off me. Please, stop!"
He drove his head down until his lips touched my neck, making a trail all around my throat, savoring the taste and feel of my flesh. I shivered, wanting him to stop, but my small hands and weak arms had no effect on his broad shoulders and chest. He had brought my nightgown up so it was just under my arms. When he pressed his chest against my naked bosom, I could feel his steady heartbeats thumping, making it seem as if I were a part of him. He had his lips to my ear.
"You must experience, understand, be aware," he whispered. "You will know and be prepared. It's my duty, my responsibility, part of the artistic process involved in creating you," he said, convincing himself that what he was doing was right and necessary.
"NO, STOP!"
I tried beating him back by pounding his shoulders and neck with my tiny fists, but it was like flies on a horse's back--just a minor annoyance. I felt his legs slip in between mine. My panic rose. He had slid his hands down and embraced me, holding my arms firmly against my body. His lips moved along my collarbone and dropped between my breasts. I felt the wetness of the tip of his tongue.
"Show you . . . teach you ."
"TONY!"
My body trembled and shuddered, but I could move my hands only a tiny bit because his strong arms were holding me like vises. He pressed forward, driving himself firmly between my legs and then using his thighs to push mine apart.
"You must understand . . . I'm responsible . . please, don't fight me. Let me show you . . teach you . . ."
"STOP," I cried one final time, but it was a futile cry. He forced upon me what should only have been given in love. His thrust was hard and accurate, opening me to him. A hot, searing pain came and went. I felt myself go dizzy and faint. Perhaps I did faint for a few moments. My body was totally at his command; moving as he moved. For a moment I felt detached from it, my head falling back against the pillow, the rest of me beneath him. He was doing what he wanted. In his own mind he was sculpting me in another way.
My cries were as tiny as a doll's cries. I bit down on my lower lip and tried to endure, The heat rose from my legs and stomach in continuous, rhythmic waves, traveling higher and higher until it overwhelmed me. I thought I was sinking into the bed beneath him.
Finally, he loosened his hold around my arms and torso and brought his fingers to my lips and cheeks, following them with his own lips.
"Do you see? Do you feel it and understand the power? Now, I have turned you into a woman," he claimed. "I have completed my greatest work of art, made you into a living portrait doll."
I moaned, swallowing my cries. My cheeks were wet with tears. I kept my eyes shut tight. I felt his lips press down on them softly and then felt him kiss my lips. After a long moment of silence, he lifted himself away. I dared not speak or move for fear he would return. I heard him sigh deeply before I felt his finger trace a line between my breasts and down my stomach. He kept it there for a moment.
Then he murmured, "My portrait doll. Sleep well."
I heard his departing footsteps and opened my eyes just as he passed through my doorway and out. The moment the door closed, my tears burst forth and my shoulders shook. I embraced my naked body and sobbed. Finally, I sat up. I stared through the darkness in disbelief, questioning what had happened. Maybe it was only a nightmare. I wanted to deny it, but my body, still trembling from his kisses and his violation, would not permit me to ignore or pretend.
What would I do? Whom would I run to? Momma was still away. My father was off with his new wife building a business. There were only servants here and little Troy. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, bracing myself against the wall as I went along. I put on the light and gazed at myself in the full-length mirror. My face was streaked with tears and beet red. My neck and shoulders were blotchy from his forced kisses and caresses. The sight of myself this way hammered home what had happened. I grew dizzy again and had to sit down.
I thought about calling Jennifer or Joshua, but I was too ashamed. What would I say? What could either of them do anyway? I had no one but myself. I had to come to my own aid. Finally, after a series of deep breaths, I was able to stand up again. I put out the light and returned to bed. What else could I do? I couldn't go ranting and raving through the halls of Farthy.
I reached for Angel. She looked shocked, saddened. I held her in my arms and pressed her to me, searching for the comfort I needed so desperately. Ironically, the doll Tony created was here to soothe me after the terrible thing he had done. But there was more of myself in this doll than there was of him, I thought. And now she despised him as much as I did.
"Oh Angel, we have only each other. Tony was right about one thing . . we are both portrait dolls."
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me back into its arms and turn me away from this hard and shocking world.
The warm sunlight caressed my face and tugged my eyes open. I blinked rapidly, focusing in on where I was and what had happened in this room the night before. When I sat up, I somehow expected everything to be in disarray, expected the world to be as topsy-turvy as I was; but nothing was changed around me. Everything in the room was as neat and orderly as it had been. The sunlight was beaming cheerfully through my windows. Even Angel looked bright and restored.
Had it all been a nightmare? I looked down at myself as if there would be some evidence. My arms were sore where Tony had clamped them against my body in his viselike grip and my thighs ached, but other than that, there were no telltale scars or marks of his passion. Yet I felt that all the scars were within me. It had been no nightmare.
I rose slowly and sat for a while on my bed, wondering what I would do. I would run off to join Daddy if I knew where he was, I thought; but he could be halfway across the world by now for all I knew. I decided to shower and dress. I didn't want to go downstairs and confront Tony, but I couldn't remain in my suite all day. I supposed I could claim to be ill and have my meals brought up, but it would only bring him in here too, I thought, and there would still be a confrontation.
Besides, I wasn't up and around for more than ten minutes before I heard Troy at my door. He was here to remind me of promises I had made to him the day before, promises concerning things we would do together. I turned my face from him when he spoke, afraid he would see the horror and the terror in my eyes and be frightened by them. But he was too excited about our proposed activities to notice anything.
"You said you would go to the beach with me today, Leigh. Can we go right after breakfast? Can we? Please? We can look for seashells."
"All right," I said. "Just let me shower and dress. Go down and start your breakfast."
"Tony's already downstairs," he said.
"Good?' I thought perhaps Tony would eat and be gone by the time I arrived, so I took my time showering and dressing. It looked like it was going to be a very warm day, so I decided to put on a pair of shorts and a short-sleeve blouse for my walk to the beach with Troy.
Unfortunately, when I arrived at the dining room, Tony was still sitting there reading his
Wall Street Journal
and sipping coffee. My heart skipped a beat when he lowered the paper to look at me. I gazed at him with as much fury in my eyes as I could muster, but he didn't seem to see it. He smiled brightly.
"Good morning, Leigh. It's going to be a beautiful day. Troy tells me you and he are going for a walk on the beach. I might just come along."
I looked at Troy. He was drilling half a grapefruit with his fork. His nurse reminded him not to play with his food. Without saying a word, I took my seat. The maid poured me my orange juice immediately. I glanced at Tony and saw how he was still smiling and watching me. His hair was neatly brushed and he wore a white and blue short-sleeve shirt and a pair of light blue slacks. He looked so chipper and well rested.
How could he be this way? I thought. Did he think I would just forget what he had done? Did he think by his pretending nothing was wrong and nothing was different, he could get away with it? Surely, he must expect I was going to tell my mother everything. She would want to divorce him and we would leave this place.
But he didn't act the least bit concerned. He folded his paper neatly and sipped his coffee.
"Troy's putting away a good breakfast this morning because he knows he needs energy if he's going to do all the things he plans to do with you today, Leigh," Tony said and winked. "Right, Troy?"
"Uh-huh," he said and chewed vigorously on a chunk of grapefruit.
"I thought perhaps you would like to do some horseback riding today, Leigh. I've already asked Curly to have Stormy and Thunder ready for us after lunch. How's that sound?"
I glanced at Troy's nurse and Troy. Both were occupied with other things and not listening to Tony. Then I glared at him.
"How can you even suggest such a thing?" I demanded through clenched teeth. He shrugged.
"I thought you might like it today. It should be a wonderful day for a ride. I thought you loved horseback riding."
"I do love horseback riding. That's not the point," I snapped.
"Then what is?"
"You expect me to go horseback riding with you after. . . after what happened last night?"
The nurse looked up sharply. Tony's smile faded, but he replaced it quickly with a look of confusion.
"What do you mean? What happened?"
I looked at the nurse. The maid had paused as well and turned a keen ear in our direction.
"I don't want to talk about it now," I said and drank my juice.
Tony sat back in his chair.
"Oh, well," he said. "Perhaps you'll feel better after lunch. If you do, everything will be ready. It can be only a short ride anyway, for me. I had some things turn up at the office this morning, unexpected things, and I have to go into Boston tonight."
"You can go right now for all I care," I said quickly. Tony didn't respond. He shook his head, grimaced, and went back to his paper.
What an act, I thought. Did he really expect to get away with it? I decided not to pursue it at the moment, for Troy's sake as much as my own. He was already rambling on about our walk on the beach and the things he was planning to do with the seashells we would locate together. I had to smile and be happy for him.
Tony finished his coffee and rose.
"I'll see you two out at the beach perhaps," he said. Then he excused himself and left the table. I finished my breakfast and then started out for the beach with Troy before Tony could join us.
Troy's endless happy chatter kept me from thinking dark thoughts, for every time my mind went back to the horrible events of the night before, Troy would ask me a question. He was full of
inquisitiveness this morning and his verbal energy kept me from drifting away.
"What makes the clouds move, Leigh? See," he said pointing. "That big one was over there and now it's over here. Do they have wings?"
"No," I said smiling. "It's the wind that pushes them along."
"Why doesn't the wind blow right through them?"
"I suppose it does sometimes. That's why there are small ones, pieces from bigger ones," I replied and ran my fingers through his soft hair. He swung his little pail as he walked, pounding the soft beach with determined steps.
"If I were up there, would the wind push me, too?"
"If you were light enough to float, it would," I said. "And would it break me into pieces like a cloud?"
"Only if you were made of air. What makes you think of such things?" I asked, wondering what sort of dreams he had. He shrugged.
"Tony says there are places that have winds so strong they lift people off the ground and twirl them about like clouds."
"Oh, Troy," I said, stopping and kneeling to embrace him. "Not here. You're safe here."
"The wind won't blow you away either?" he asked skeptically.
"No. I promise," I said even though in my heart I felt a terrible sort of wind had tossed me about and burst whatever bubble of happiness I had found here.
He smiled and broke free, running toward the water.
"Look! Look at the blue shells!" he cried and began to fill his little pail.
I took a deep breath of the fresh sea air. It seemed to clear my lungs and wash out the anxiety and the heaviness I felt in my body. I looked back to be sure Tony wasn't following us. I didn't see him and assumed he must have realized I wouldn't tolerate him near me. Convinced Troy and I would be left alone, I joined him to sift through the shells and fill his pail with the more beautiful ones.