Twin of Ice Read online

  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.

  Dear Mr. Taggert,

  My behavior last night was unforgivable. I’d understand if you’d like the return of your ring.

  Sincerely,

  Miss Houston Chandler

  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