Twin of Ice (8 page)

Mrs. Murchison was beside herself, trying to cook in the bare kitchen.

When the barber arrived, Houston slipped out the side door and nearly ran for the privacy of the big glasshouse that for days she’d been wanting to explore. She closed the door and gazed with pleasure down the three-hundred-foot-long expanse of flowering plants. The fragrance and the peace were what she needed.

“Noise too much for you?”

She turned to see Edan, as be set down a big pot of azaleas. He was nearly as large as Kane, handsome, blond, and, she guessed, younger than, Kane. “I guess we woke you,” she said. “There seems to have been a great deal of shouting this morning.”

“If Kane’s around, people usually shout,” he said matter-of-factly. “Could I show you my plants?”

“This is yours?”

“More or less. There’s a little house past the rose garden where a Japanese family lives. They take care of the outside gardens, but in here is mine. I have plants from all over the world.”

She knew she had no time, but she also knew she wanted a few minutes of quiet.

With pride, Edan showed her the many plants in the glasshouse: cyclamen, primroses, tree ferns, orchids, exotic things she’d never heard of.

“You must enjoy it in here,” she said, touching a cymbidium orchid leaf. “I broke a pitcher over his head this morning.”

For a moment, Edan’s mouth dropped open, then he gave a snort of laughter. “I’ve gone after him with my fists more than once. Do you really mean to try to civilize him?”

“I hope I can. But I can’t keep on striking him. There must be other ways.” Her head came up. “I know nothing about you, or how you relate to him.”

Edan began repotting an overgrown passionflower. “He found me in an alleyway in New York where I was staying alive by eating from garbage cans. My parents and sister had died a few weeks before from smoke inhalation in a tenement fire. I was seventeen, couldn’t hold a job because I kept fighting,” he smiled in memory, “starving, and had decided to turn to a life of crime. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the first person I chose to rob was Kane.”

Houston nodded. “Perhaps his size was a challenge to you.”

“Or maybe I was hoping I’d fail. Kane flattened me onto the street, but instead of sending me to jail, he took me home with him and fed me. I was seventeen, he was twenty-two, and already on his way to becoming a millionaire.”

“And you’ve been with him ever since.”

“And earning my keep,” Edan added. “He made me work for him all day and sent me to accounting school at night. The man doesn’t believe in sleep. We were up till four this morning, so that’s why we were still in bed when you arrived.

“Ah!” Edan said suddenly, grinning broadly as he looked through the glass walls. “I think the barber’s been here.”

With much curiosity, Houston looked through the glass. Coming down the path was a big man wearing Kane’s clothes, but instead of the long dark hair and beard, he was clean-shaven.

Houston looked at Edan in wonder, and he laughed as Kane walked through the door.

“Houston!” he bellowed. “You in here?”

She stepped from behind an elephant’s-foot tree to took at him.

“Ain’t bad, is it?” he said happily, rubbing his clean jaw. “I ain’t seen myself in so long I’d forgotten how good-lookin’ I was.”

Houston had to laugh, for he was indeed handsome, with a big square jaw, fine lips, and with his eyes with their dark brows, he was extraordinary.

“If you’re through lookin’ at Edan’s plants, come on back to the house. Tbere’s a lady in the kitchen cookin’ up a storm and I’m starvin’.”

“Yes,” she said, walking out of the glasshouse ahead of him.

Once outside, he caught her arm. “I got somethin’ to say to you,” he said softly, looking at his boot toe, then at some place to the left of her head. “I didn’t mean to jump on you this mornin’. It was just that I was asleep, and I woke up to see a pretty gal there. I wouldn’t a hurt you. I just guess I ain’t used to ladies.” He rubbed his head and grinned at her. “But I imagine I’ll learn real quick.”

“Sit down here,” she said, pointing to a bench under a tree. “Let me look at your head.”

He sat quite still while she searched his hair for the lump and examined it. “Does it hurt very much?”

“Not at the moment,” he said, then caught both her hands. “You still gonna marry me?”

He’s much better looking than Leander, she suddenly thought, and when he looked at her like this, odd things happened to her knees. “Yes, I’m still going to marry you.”

“Good!” he said abruptly and stood. “Now, let’s go eat. Me and Edan got work to do and I got a man waitin’ for me. And you got to watch them idiots with the furniture.” He started back toward the house.

Houston had to half run to keep up with him. He certainly does change moods quickly, she thought, as she held her hat on and scurried.

By afternoon, she had rugs down in three rooms and had two of the attic rooms cleared. The furniture that was downstairs was in no order and she had yet to decide where each piece went. Kane and Edan closeted themselves in Kane’s office with their visitor. Now and again she heard Kane’s voice over the movers’ noise. Once he looked into the library at the gilded chairs and said, “Them little chairs gonna hold up?”

“They have for over two hundred years,” she’d answered.

Kane snorted and went back to his study.

At five o’clock, she knocked on the study door and, when Edan answered it, she looked through the blue haze of cigar smoke to tell Kane she was leaving but would return tomorrow. He barely looked up from his paperwork.

Edan walked out with her. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done today. I’m sure the house will be what it should be when you finish.”

She stopped at the doorway. “Please tell him I’ll be here at noon tomorrow with his new suit, and we’ll attend the garden party at two.”

“I hope he’ll go.”

“He will,” she said with more assurance than she felt.

Breakfast at the Chandler house was a solemn affair, only Duncan and Houston doing justice to the steak, ham, eggs, peach pie, and buckwheat cakes. Opal looked as if she’d lost five pounds overnight, Blair’s jaw was set in a hard line of anger, while Duncan seemed to range from anger to bewilderment and back again.

Houston thought about what Susan had told her this morning concerning Blair and Leander. Yesterday, Blair had been canoeing on the lake in Fenton Park with a handsome blond stranger when Leander had rowed up beside them, and the next thing anyone knew, the stranger was thrashing about in the water while Lee hauled Blair into his canoe and rowed them to shore. While everyone was laughing, Blair used a paddle to shove Lee into the mud, rescued her stranger from drowning, and rowed him back to the boat rental area.

Houston knew she should be jealous of their love play, angry at how publicly Leander was telling everyone that he preferred Blair, and jealous of all the flowers Lee was sending, but her mind kept racing to things like where she was going to place that little Jacobean desk and whom she could get to help her hang the curtains she’d found in carefully-labelled packages. And then there was Mr. Taggert. She hoped he wouldn’t give her too much trouble today.

“I’d like to speak to you, Houston,” Duncan said after breakfast, startling Houston so much that she jumped. He led the way into the front parlor, the one used for guests—and serious discussions.

Quietly, she took a seat. This man had been her stepfather since she was a girl, and because she’d always done what he wanted and conducted herself perfectly in his image of what a lady should do, they’d never had a disagreement.

“I hear that you’ve agreed to marry him,” he began, standing, his back to the window that faced the street.

“Yes,” she answered, steeling herself for the coming storm. How was she going to plead her case? Could she say she’d asked Kane and he said he’d never murdered anyone? Or maybe she could try to explain about how much he needed her.

As if he weighed hundreds of pounds, Duncan sat down.

“Houston,” he said, in a voice barely above a whisper, “I know this house hasn’t been like it was when your father was alive, but I never thought you’d take drastic measures to get out of it.”

She’d not expected this. “You think I’m marrying Mr. Taggert in order to leave your house?”

He stood. “That and a few other reasons.” He moved to look out the window. “I know that what Leander did to you must be a humiliating experience, and at your age it must seem to be the end of the world.”

He turned back to face her. “But believe me, Houston, it’s
not
the end of the world. You’re the prettiest young lady in town, maybe in the whole state, and you’ll find someone else. If you’d like to, I’ll take you to Denver and introduce you to some young men.”

Rising, Houston went to him and kissed his cheek. Until this moment, she’d not known that he really cared for her. In spite of the fact that they lived in the same house, there was always a formality between them, and this was the first time she’d ever kissed him.

“I thank you so much for your kindness,” she said when Duncan turned away in embarrassment. She stepped back. “I don’t believe I am marrying Mr. Taggert merely because he’s the one most available.”

Duncan looked back at her. “Are you
sure?
Maybe you want to hold him up before the town to say, ‘See, I can get another man any time I want.’ You
can
get another man. Maybe one not so rich or not one with a house like Taggert’s, but a man whose family you know. For all you know, there could be insanity in Taggert’s family. I hear that uncle of his is nothing but a troublemaker.”

Houston’s head came up. “Uncle?”

“Rafe Taggert in the coal mines. The man is a thorn in Jacob Fenton’s side, but Jacob keeps him on no matter what he does.”

Houston turned away to hide her face. The name Taggert was fairly common, and she’d never connected her friend Jean to Kane. Maybe Jean knew Kane. And if they were related, she could vouch for Kane’s family being sane.

She turned back to Duncan. “I don’t believe there’s insanity.”

A look of frustration crossed Duncan’s face. “How can you change so completely in so short a time? You were so sensible with Leander, getting to know each other before you made the commitment of marriage, but you’ve known this man for only days, yet you’ve agreed to spend the rest of your life with him.”

There was no answer to give him. He was completely right. Logically, Houston knew she couldn’t marry this stranger. Except that she damn well wanted to! She covered the little smile that appeared on her lips with her hand. She couldn’t adopt Mr. Taggert’s language!

“Marriage is a serious matter,” Duncan continued. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“I’ve already agreed to marry him,” she said, as if it were an answer.

“Blair proved that until that ring is on a woman’s finger, anything might happen,” he said bitterly. “Don’t let her…waywardness ruin your life. Find out about Kane Taggert. Talk to some people who know him. Talk to Marc Fenton; he might remember Taggert when he worked in the stables. I’ve tried to see Jacob but he can’t bear to hear Taggert’s name. It’s your whole life, Houston; find out everything you can about the man before you commit yourself to him.”

Houston knew his request was reasonable, but she hesitated before agreeing. Maybe she didn’t want to find out about Kane, maybe she liked thinking of him as a mystery man who’d swept her off her feet.

Maybe she just wasn’t ready for the adventure to end. But Duncan’s words were sensible, and Houston was used to obeying. Briefly, she wondered what he’d do if he knew about Kane’s attack on her yesterday morning and the subsequent pottery breakage. Lock her in her room no doubt. She sighed. “I will ask several people,” she whispered. “I will find out all I can, and if there is nothing horribly wrong, I will marry him on the twentieth.”

Duncan gave a heavy sigh. “That’s all I can ask. Houston, tell me, have you always wanted money so badly? Have you considered your life in this house one of poverty?”

“Is his money one of the other reasons you think I’m marrying him?”

“Of course.” He looked surprised. “Why else would you marry the great ugly thing? If it weren’t for his money, no one would speak to him. He’d be just another coal miner like the rest of his family and no one would give him the time of day.”

“Would he be just another miner?” she asked. “He started as a stable boy but he’s earned millions. No one gave it to him. Perhaps what I like is the man inside, the one who can pull himself up from the stable filth to achieve something in life. All I’ve ever done is learn how to dress properly.” And he needs that knowledge, she thought, feeling a little thrill run through her body.

“What else should a lady know?” Duncan asked.

“Women today are writing books, are—.” She stopped, waving her hand to dismiss the subject. “I wonder why no one is asking why a man of Mr. Taggert’s wealth is marrying a woman from the Colorado mountains? He could have a princess.”

“You
are
a princess,” Duncan snapped.

Houston smiled at him as she moved toward the door. “I must go. I have to visit Mr. Bagly and choose a wardrobe for my future husband, then I must order a second wedding dress identical to the first one. I’m sure Blair hasn’t thought to do it.”

“I doubt she has either,” Duncan said, reaching into his pocket. “The bank president came by yesterday with this.” He handed her a piece of paper.

It was a deposit slip stating that two hundred and fifty thousand dollars had been deposited in her name.

Houston’s hand on the doorknob trembled a bit. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you for everything and I shall do as you ask.” With a smile, she left the room.

She was on the stairs before she could breathe again. She stopped and looked again at the deposit slip. He said he was going to deposit “some” money for her. Whatever faults he had, lack of generosity was not one of them. Repressing the urge to laugh with delight, she hurried up the stairs to dress for the day’s outing.

An hour later, she sat inside Mr. Bagly’s little shop, fabric samples all about her. One of the things she’d learned in finishing school was how to dress a man—if for no other reason than so she could argue with her husband’s valet.

“He’ll need a dozen business suits,” she was saying to Mr. Bagly as a clerk wrote furiously. “This light-colored wool, the Oxford gray check, the Angola, and that heavy blue Scottish wool…for now.”

“And for evening?” Mr. Bagly asked.

“The black worsted with a white marseilles vest. Now, for riding.”

She chose clothes for sports, pausing at, then rejecting, the golfing knickers and clothes for afternoon receptions. For his own wedding, she chose a black cutaway, then shirts, scarves, gloves. She then chose a large supply of underwear of lisle, linen handkerchiefs, and balbriggan socks.

“Shall we leave the hats until later?”

“Yes,” Houston answered. “And the canes.” She looked at the little gold watch pinned to her breast. “I must go now. May I have the completed suit?”

When Mr. Bagly had brought the new suit and a complete set of accessories, including shoes, from a storage room, Houston made arrangements for him to measure Edan for clothes for the wedding. “Good luck,” he called after her, as Houston sped away in her elegant new carriage. “You’ll need it,” he muttered under his breath.

Two hours later, Houston was dressed for the garden party, wearing a formfitting gown of dotted white mousseline de soie over yellow satin, a wide yellow ribbon across the bodice, tying in a bow on her hip. Somehow, this morning, Susan had managed to pull Houston’s corset a full three-quarters of an inch tighter. Breathing was done only in the upper half of her lungs, but what did a little discomfort matter? She wanted to look her best for her first official outing with her fiancé.

Sighing as she parked before the Taggert house, she realized she must hire servants soon. Now, she needed someone to help her from the carriage. Looking around to make sure no one was about, she pulled her dress up almost to the knees and stepped down.

A low whistle came from her left. “Prettiest thing I’ve seen all day,” said Kane, walking around the side of the house. “In fact you got better legs ’n a dancer I seen in New Orleans.”

Houston tried to control her blush. “I brought your suit, and you just have time to get ready.”

“Ready for what?”

She still wasn’t used to seeing him without his beard. His face was bristly this morning with dark, unshaven whiskers, but they didn’t hide his extraordinary good looks. How fortunate, she thought, to agree to marry a grizzly bear and have him turn into a handsome prince.

“For the garden party at two,” she answered.

“Oh, that,” he said over his shoulder as he started toward the door, leaving her standing.

“Yes, that.” She picked up her skirts and followed him inside and toward his office. “I thought perhaps we’d have time for a few lessons before we went, just enough so you’d feel comfortable, and of course you’ll want time to dress.”

He stopped behind his desk, picked up a piece of paper. “I’m real sorry, but I ain’t got time to go. I got too much work to do. You go on, though. You’re already dressed up and all. Maybe you can take some flowers from me.”

Houston took a deep breath. “Perhaps I should just give them money.”

He looked at her over the paper, his expression one of surprise. “They’d like that?”

“No,” she said evenly, “
they
wouldn’t but I’m sure you would. That way you wouldn’t have to face them.”

“Are you sayin’ I’m afraid of a bunch of overdressed, tea-drinkin’ snobs? Why, I could buy and sell—.”

Her look cut him off.

“I ain’t goin’,” he said stubbornly and sat down.

She walked to stand near him, wanting very much to put her hand on his shoulder, but she didn’t. “It won’t be so bad. You’ve only met the worst people of the town. I’d like to introduce you to my friends, and I promise you not one person will faint at your feet.”

He looked up at her. “Not one lady’ll faint when she sees me with my beard gone?”

With a smile, she moved away from him. “Are you trying to get me to say you’ll be the most handsome man there?”

He made a grab for her hand, but she moved back too quickly. “Let’s you and me stay here,” he said. “We’ll find somethin’ to do together. I like that dress.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Taggert,” she laughed, wondering if she could tighten her corset another quarter inch. “I will not be seduced into…into whatever you have in mind. You must get dressed for the garden party.” She’d backed up until she was pressed against the wall.

Kane moved very close to her, put both hands on the wall on either side of her head and leaned forward. “We haven’t really gotten to know each other, have we? I mean, a couple should spend some time alone before they get married, shouldn’t they?”

Houston deftly slid from under his arm. “Mr. Taggert,” she said firmly, “I’ll not be sweet-talked out of this party. I think you are afraid to go, and perhaps if you’re the sort of man who lets a little gathering of people frighten him, I’m not sure you’re the man I want to marry.”

With an angry look, he went back to his desk. “You gotta mean streak in you a mile wide. I ain’t afraid of no damn party.”

“Then prove it by getting dressed and going with me.” As she watched, he seemed to be fighting something inside himself, and she almost said she’d stay at home with him. Be firm, Houston, she told herself. This is what he wants you for.

He tossed the papers to his desk. “I’ll go,” he said in disgust. “And I hope you ain’t gonna be sorry.” He stormed past her and out the door.

“I hope so, too,” she breathed, as she ran after him to get the suit that was still in the carriage.

While Kane dressed, Houston looked at the furniture scattered about the house and planned where it should go. After an hour and a half, when she’d begun to think Kane had left by a second-story window, she turned to see him standing in the doorway wearing the dark frock coat, white linen shirt, and slate gray trousers, a white cravat held in his hand.