Twin of Ice Read online

  The room was decorated with tall potted palms set before mirrors, and the mantel dripped with red roses and purple pansies.

  Houston moved to the large drawing room. This was where the close friends and relatives would mingle before and after the ceremony.

  Along the baseboards, doorways, and the ceiling had been tacked the delicate twining smilax vine. Yard upon yard of the vines graced the room, weaving around the fireplace, around windows.

  Set before each window were pots of ferns that filtered the morning sun and made lacy shadows on the floor. The hearth was draped with pink carnations, and entwined in the vines here and there were more carnations.

  As quickly as possible, Houston finished her inspection tour of the rest of the downstairs and hurried upstairs where the others waited.

  There were five hours before the ceremony, but Houston knew that there’d be a million and one last-minute details to take care of.

  During the last few days, she’d spent a great deal of time downstairs, but the upstairs was still new to her. The eastern branch of the U-shaped house was guest quarters, and today Blair would be dressing in one of the suites. The center section contained Edan’s rooms on one side of an aviary and hallway, and a nursery, bath, and nurse’s room on the other side.

  Next to the nursery was the long wing that belonged to Houston and Kane. He had a bedroom at the back, relatively small, but overlooking the gardens. Houston’s room, separated from his by a marble bathroom, was by far the largest, with pale panelled walls that were set with carvings of swags and garlands to outline the paintings that had yet to be hung.

  Next to her room was a large pink and white marble bath and a dressing area with walls covered in pink moiré, and beyond that a sitting room and private dining room for when she and Kane were dining alone.

  “I shall never get used to this house,” Tia said as she returned from an inspection of the rooms beyond the bedroom. “And look at this rooftop garden.”

  “Garden?” Houston asked, walking toward the double doors where Tia stood. She opened one and stepped outside into a lovely tangle of potted trees and flowers. Stone benches hid themselves amid the greenery. This had not been here the last time she saw the railed roof of the loggia that was outside her bedroom.

  “Look at this,” Sarah said, holding out a large white card that was attached to an enormous fig tree. Most of the plants were protected from the Colorado sun by an overhead lattice work that made a very pretty shade.

  Houston took the card.

  I hope you like it, I wish you all the best in your marriage.

  Edan

  “It’s a gift from Edan,” Houston said and felt that the garden was a symbol of her happiness today.

  Before Houston could say another word, the door burst open and Mrs. Murchison entered as if a storm were behind her.

  “There’s too many people in my kitchen!” she yelled toward Houston. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to cook with all of them in there. And Mr. Kane’s got too much to do already, what with losin’ a day’s work as it is.”

  “Losing . . . ” Meredith said, aghast. “Do you think Houston has nothing else to—?”

  Houston cut her friend off, Mrs. Murchison was under Kane’s spell and no doubt she’d defend the man to the death. “I’ll go down the back stairs,” Houston said, ignoring the fact that Sarah was unwrapping her wedding dress. It still needed pressing and there were last-minute stitches to be taken.

  Once she was downstairs, there were more catastrophes to be seen to. Several times, she heard Kane shouting from within his office, and someone pushed Houston inside the scullery when Kane stormed past on his way outside to the gardens. She envied him his freedom, and at the same time wished she could be with him. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow, they’d be able to walk together in the garden.

  It was only two hours before the service when she finally made it back upstairs.

  “Houston,” Opal said, “I think you should begin dressing now.”

  Houston removed her clothing slowly, thinking that when she disrobed the next time . . .

  “Who in the world is that woman?” Anne asked as Houston stepped into a chemise of cotton so fine that it was a mere whisper against her skin. The top had tiny, worked buttonholes that were inserted with pink silk ribbon, and the bottom was hand-embroidered with tiny rosebuds.

  “I have no idea,” Tia said, joining Anne to look over the railing of the garden, “but she must be the tallest woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Sarah began tightening the laces on Houston’s pink satin, hand-featherstitched corset. “I think I’m going to have to take a look,” Sarah said. “Maybe she’s one of Lee’s relatives.”

  “I’ve seen her before but I have no idea where,” Anne said. “How odd of her to wear black to a wedding.”

  “We have work to do,” Opal said in a way that made Houston’s head come up. “No one need interest herself in the private matters of any one of the guests.”

  Houston was quite sure that something was wrong. Ignoring her mother’s stern look, she went to the edge of the rooftop garden where Tia stood. Instantly, she knew who the woman was. Even from upstairs, she looked tall and elegant.

  “It’s Pamela Fenton,” Houston whispered, and turned back toward the bedroom.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  “Probably wearing black in mourning,” Sarah said, “because she lost him. Houston, which one of these petticoats do you want on first?”

  Mechanically, Houston continued dressing, but her thoughts were on the fact that Kane was in the garden and the woman he once loved was walking toward him.

  A knock on the door was answered by Anne. “It’s the man who works with Kane,” she told Houston. “He wants to see you, and he says it’s urgent and he has to see you immediately.”

  “She couldn’t possibly go . . . ” Opal began, but her daughter had already snatched a dressing gown from a chair back and was on her way to the door.

  * * *

  Kane was standing at the far edge of his garden, looking out over the city of Chandler, smoking one of his cigars, one foot on a stone bench.

  “Hello, Kane,” Pamela said softly.

  He waited a moment before turning to face her, and when he did look at her, his eyes were calm, not showing what he felt. He looked her up and down. “The years have treated you kindly.”

  “On the outside.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time so I’ll say what I came to say. I still love you; I’ve never stopped loving you. If you’ll walk away with me now, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

  Quickly, he took a step toward her but stopped and walked back. “No, I can’t do that,” he said quietly.

  “You can! You know you can. What do you care about, any of these people? What do you care about the people of Chandler? What do you care about . . . her?”

  “No,” he repeated.

  She moved so they were standing close. He was a couple of inches taller than she, but with her heels they were equal. “Kane, please, don’t make this mistake. Don’t marry someone else. You know you love me. You know I—.”

  “You love me so much that you left me alone,” he said angrily. “You married your rich lover and . . . ” He stopped, turned away from her. “I won’t leave with you today. I’ll not hurt her like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  Pam sat down on the bench. “You’re going to cast me aside merely because you don’t want to hurt Houston Chandler? She’s young. She’ll find someone else. Or is she in love with you?”

  “I’m sure you know the gossip. She’s still in love with Westfield, but she agreed to console herself with my money. Unfortunately, I go along with the money.”

  “Then why? Why do you feel obligated?”

  He looked at her with blazing eyes. “Have you forgotten me so completely? I keep my bargains.”

  His meaning was clear. “I thought you would have found out by now,” she said softly.

&n