Twin of Ice Read online

  While Kane was busy, she walked toward Reverend Thomas, who stood alone on the outskirts of the crowd.

  “You’ve certainly changed him,” Reverend Thomas said, nodding toward Kane, who now had three women near him.

  “The outside perhaps,” she said, and her voice lowered. “I want to talk to you. Last week, in the coal town, Jean Taggert said she knew about me. How much does she know?”

  “Everything,” the reverend answered.

  “But how—?” Houston began.

  “I told her. I had to. I wanted you to have a friend, a real friend, on the inside.”

  “But what if I’m caught? Jean could be in even more trouble if she knows who I am. It’s bad enough as it is.”

  “Houston,” the reverend said, his eyes on hers. “You can’t take all the responsibility by yourself. Jean came to me months ago and wanted to know the truth. I was glad to tell her.”

  Houston was silent for a moment as she watched Kane laugh at something one of the women said, and she saw the women take a step closer. It’s not just me he charms, she thought.

  “Did you know that Kane and Jean are related?” she asked.

  “First cousins.” He smiled at her startled look. “As soon as I learned about your engagement, I went to Jean. Oh, the guards were reluctant to let me in, but I do have a higher boss than theirs. Neither Jean nor any of her family’s met Kane. There’s some secrecy about his birth, something about his mother. Jean’s guess was that she was a . . . ah, lady of the evening and Kane’s father had some doubt that the child was his. That would explain why Kane was put to work at Fenton’s rather than being reared by the Taggerts.”

  “Do you know what happened to his parents?”

  “Jean felt sure they were both dead. Houston,” Reverend Thomas put his hand on her arm, “are you sure you want to marry this man? I know that what Leander did must have hurt you but—.”

  Houston didn’t feel she could listen to another lecture, no matter how well-intended. “I’m sure,” she said firmly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to my fiancé before he’s stolen from me.”

  “All right, but, Houston, if you want to talk, I’ll be here.”

  As Houston made her way toward Kane, one person after another stopped her.

  “He looks quite nice, Houston. You’ve done wonders with him.”

  “Did you really fall in love with him while you were engaged to Leander?”

  “Was Lee terribly heartbroken when you told him?”

  “Did you sneak out of your house to meet Mr. Taggert?”

  “Houston, you must tell us everything!”

  Finally, she made her way to Kane’s side and slipped her arm through his.

  “You damn well took long enough,” he said under his breath. “Do you know what those women wanted to know?” he asked in a shocked tone.

  “I can guess,” she laughed. “Did you get something to eat?”

  “Just a couple of those little sandwiches. A body could eat all of ’em and still be hungry. We have to stay here much longer? Who was that man you were talkin’ to?”

  “Reverend Thomas.”

  “Oh, yeah. You teach a class for him on Wednesdays.” Smiling, he touched her nose with his fingertip. “Don’t look so surprised. I know lots about you. Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll bring you a plate of food? That’s what I seen the other men doin’ for the women.”

  If she were with Lee now he’d know exactly what was proper to do, she thought. And they’d have to leave the party at 3:15 because on Thursdays he—.

  “You wishin’ you had a man that knew what to do?” Kane asked from above her, his big shadow blocking the sunlight, a plate of food in his hand.

  “Why no, I wasn’t,” she answered, but said no more because a mass of very wet food came tumbling into her lap.

  Kane didn’t move but shown in his face was the knowledge that everything he’d feared had just happened.

  It was when Houston heard a woman’s smothered laugh—for the entire party had come to a halt—that she reacted.

  Quickly, she stood, the food falling to the ground. “Pick me up,” she whispered, but he only stared at her with bleak eyes. “Sweep me into your arms, carry me to the carriage and drive away,” she commanded quietly.

  Kane wasn’t used to obeying orders blindly, but he did this one. With ease, he picked her up.

  As he carried her toward the carriage, Houston snuggled against him. On Thursdays, Leander took fencing lessons, but Mr. Taggert’s Thursdays were spent in sweeping his intended off her feet.

  Kane was silent until they were in the carriage and driving toward the Chandler house. “Why?” he asked. “What good did my carryin’ you do?”

  “Because few of the men in there have backs strong enough to carry their wives, and I think any woman would trade a little spilled food for a man who could lift her.”

  “You don’t weigh nothin’,” he said.

  With a smile, she leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “I weigh nothing to you,” she said softly.

  He stopped the buggy and stared at her. “You’re a real lady, ain’t you, Miss Chandler? A real lady.”

  “I hope, so,” she murmured and thought that it could be possible that whatever Kane Taggert wanted her to be, she just might become.

  Chapter 9

  Houston burst into her mother’s bedroom, where Opal sat quietly embroidering a pair of cuffs.

  “Mother! You have to help me,” Houston said.

  “Look at your dress,” Opal said, rising. “Do you think it’ll come clean?”

  “I don’t know. Mother, he’s downstairs waiting for me and you must entertain him while I change. If you don’t talk to him, I’m afraid he’ll leave.”

  Opal took a step backward. “You can’t mean your Mr. Taggert? You have him downstairs?”

  Houston took both her mother’s hands in her own. “He is very upset. By accident, he spilled some food in my lap and, oh Mother, everyone started to laugh at him. If you’d seen his face! He was completely humiliated. Please go down and talk to him for a few minutes. Don’t let him leave.”

  Opal felt herself softening. “No one should have laughed at him if it was an accident.”

  “Thank you,” Houston said, quickly kissing her mother’s cheek before rushing from the room. She ignored Opal’s cry of, “What will I talk to him about?”

  Susan was waiting for Houston and helped her with the back fastenings of the dress.

  “It’s just the front panel that’s stained,” Houston said, holding the dress up and examining it. “Susan, tell Mrs. Thomas to rub it with magnesia powder for the grease and—oh Heavens, every stain in the world is on it. Hold the panel over a sulfur flame, and if it still doesn’t come clean, I’ll use naphtha on it. But I’ll do it myself. The Last thing I want is the kitchen exploding. Hurry now, before it sets any worse.”

  When Susan returned from her errand, Houston was sitting at her desk, writing. “When I finish this note, I want you to give it to Willie to take to Mrs. Murchison. I also want you to explain to him what I need, so there’s no misunderstanding.”

  She wrote as she talked. “Tell Willie to take the stairs in the Taggert house, the ones by the kitchen, all the way to the attics, turn left and he’ll see a long corridor. The second door on the left leads to a small room filled with furniture, and along the back wall is a small Soumak carpet—no, I’ll write a red figured carpet—and a large muslin bag of decorative pillows. The bag is as tall as he is, so he can’t miss it. Tell him to take the carpet and the pillows downstairs to the small drawing room. Mrs. Murchison will show him where it is. Have him unroll the carpet, put the pillows along the edges of the carpet, and then bring in the large, three-arm silver candelabra from the dining room next door and set it in the middle of the carpet.”

  She looked up. “Can you remember all that to tell Willie?”

  “Oh, yes, Miss. A picnic indoors. Did Mr. Taggert really spill the whole table