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Mirror Image [067-011-4. 9] By: Danielle Steel Synopsis: Steel's 46th heartbreaker delves into the seemingly inexhaustible dramatic depths of Titanic lore, idyllic love, and delectable stars. Olivia and Victoria Henderson are beautiful, young, wealthy twins who live in upper-crust Croton-on-Hudson in upstate New York at the turn of the century. Despite their life of ease (playing tennis with the Astors, being courted by a Rockefeller), they do face the daily grind of caring for their beloved Pa, who has never recovered from Mrs. Henderson's death. Then along comes another forlorn widower, sexy Charles Dawson, whose wife perished at sea. "Damn shame she came back on the Titanic, " says Mr. Henderson--who doesn't know what the Lusitania has in store for his family. As the plot thickens with the onset of World War I and the suffrage movement, Victoria--the demon seed of the dynamic duo--gets into a spot of trouble. Big enough that dutiful yet daring Olivia must bail her out in a way that it would spoil everything to reveal. If A Farewell to Arms was adapted to an ABC Monday night movie, it might bear a resemblance to Mirror Image. But in Hemingway, or on TV, there were never such devoted sisters. As the narrator puts it, reflecting on the feelings of one sister for the other, "She was her partner, her confidante, her friend, her cohort in all mischief . . . the other side of her life, her heart . . . the other side of the mirror. " Also by Danielle Steel HIS BRIGHT LIGHT THE KLONE AND I THE LONG ROAD HOME THE GHOST SPECIAL DELIVERY THE RANCH SILENT HONOR MALICE FIVE DAYS IN PARIS LIGHTNING WINGS THE GIFT ACCIDENT VANISHED MIXED BLESSINGS JEWELS NO GREATER LOVE HEARTBEAT MESSAGE FROM NAM DADDY KALEIDOSCOPE FINE THINGS WANDERLUST SECRETS FAMILY ALBUM FULL CIRCLE CHANGES THURSTON HOUSE CROSSINGS ONCE IN A LIFETIME A PERFECT STRANGER REMEMBRANCE PALOMINO LOVE, POEMS THE RING LOVING TO LOVE AGAIN SUMMERS END SEASON OF PASSION THE PROMISE NOW AND FOREVER PASSION PROMISE GOING HOME Delacorte || Press Published by Delacorte Press Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. 1540 Broadway New York, New York 10036 This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright Q) 1998 Danielle Steel All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. The trademark Delacorte Pressq9 is registered in the U. S. Patent and Trademark Office. The jacket format and design of this book are protected trade dresses and trademarks of Dell Publishing, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Steel, Danielle. Mirror image / by Danielle Steel. p. cm. ISBN 0-385-31509-0. ISBN 0-385-33331-5 (large print) ISBN 0-385-33343-9 (limited edition) I. Title. PS3569. T33828M57 1998 813'. 54dc21 98-16828 Manufactured in the United States of America Published simultaneously in Canada December 1998 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 To the people we love, The dreams we dream, The people we become in loving hands, if we dare. To courage, to wisdom, the pursuit of dreams, and those who help us across the badge, beyond our fears, from hope to love. To great loves lost, and small ones mourned, and good times won, albeit so hard earned. To my daughters, Beatrix, Samantha, Victoria, Vanessa, and Zara, may your dreams be fulfilled swiftly and easily, and your choices wise. To my sons, Mana, may you be blessed and brave, and wise, and kind, and always loved, And Nick, who was brave and giving, and so very, very loved. May all your dreams come true one day, and with luck, someday mine. May you all be greatly loved by those you love. I love you with all my heart. Mom. Chapter 1. The sound of the birds outside was muffled by the heavy brocade curtains of Henderson Manor, as Olivia Henderson pushed aside a lock of long dark hair, and continued her careful inventory of her father's china. It was a warm summer day and, as usual, her sister had gone off somewhere. Her father, Edward Henderson, was expecting a visit from his lawyers. Nestled as they were in Croton-on-Hudson, nearly a three-hour drive from New York, his attorneys came to see him fairly often. Edward Henderson ran all his investments from here, as well as overseeing the steel mills which still bore his name, but which he no longer ran himself. He had retired from business entirely, two years before, in 1911, maintaining all his holdings, but trusting entirely in his attorneys and the men who ran the mills for him. With no sons, he no longer had the interest in business that he once did. His daughters would never run his steel mills. He was only sixty-five, but his health had begun to fail over the past few years, and he preferred viewing the world from his peaceful perch in Croton-on-Hudson. Here, he could observe the world quietly, and it was a healthy, wholesome life for his two daughters. It was not exciting, admittedly, but they were never bored, and they had friends among all the grand families up and down the Hudson. The Van Cortlandt manor was nearby, as were the Shepards on the old Lyndhurst estate. Helen Shepard's father had been Jay Gould, and he had died twenty years before, and left the extraordinary property to his daughter. She and her husband, Finley Shepard, ran it beautifully, and gave frequent parties for the young people nearby. The Rockefellers had finished building Kykuit in Tarrytown that year, with its splendid gardens and magnificent grounds, and a house which rivaled Edward Henderson's just north of them at Croton-on-Hudson. Henderson Manor was a handsome home, and one which people came from miles to see, peering through the gates into the lovely gardens. They could barely see the house from where they stood, shielded as it was by tall trees, and little turns in the road which led to the formal driveway. The house itself sat high on a cliff, looking over the Hudson River. And Edward liked to sit in his study for hours, watching the world drift by, remembering times past, old friends, and the days when his life had moved a great deal more quickly . . . taking over his father's mills in the 1870's . . . being instrumental in the many industrial changes at the end of the last century. His life had been so busy then. When he was younger, his life had been so different. Edward Henderson had married when he was young, and lost a wife and a young son to diphtheria. After that he had been alone for many years, until Elizabeth came along. She had been everything any man could ever dream of, a bright shining streak of light, a comet in a summer sky, so ephemeral, so dazzling, so beautiful, and so much too quickly gone. They were married within the year they met. She was nineteen, and he was in his early forties. By twenty-one, she was gone. Much to Edward's horror, she had died in childbed. After her death, he had worked even harder than usual, driving himself until he was numb. He had left his daughters to the care of his housekeeper and their nurses, but finally, he realized that he had a responsibility to them. It was then that he began building Henderson Manor. He wanted them to have healthy, wholesome lives, out of the city. New York was no place for children in 1903. They had been ten when he'd actually moved them, and now they were twenty. He kept the house in the city and worked there, but he came up to see them as often as he could. At first only on weekends and then, as he fell in love with it, he began spending more time on the Hudson, rather than in New York, or Pittsburgh, or Europe. His heart was there in Croton with his daughters, as he watched them grow, and little by little his own life began moving more slowly. He loved being with them, and now he never left them anymore. For the past two years, he had gone absolutely nowhere. His health had begun to fail three or four years before. His heart was a problem, but only when he worked too hard, or let things upset him, or got terribly angry, which he seldom did now. He was happy in Croton with his daughters. It had been twenty years since their mother had died in the spring of 1893, on a warm balmy day that had appeared to him to be God's ultimate betrayal. He had been waiting outside, filled with such pride, and so much excitement. He had never dreamed it could happen to him again. His first wife and infant son had died in an epidemic of diphtheria more than a dozen years before. But this time, losing Elizabeth had almost killed him. At forty-five, it was a near mortal blow to him, and he almost couldn't bear going on without her. She had died in their home in New York, and at first he felt her presence there. But after a while, he came to hate the emptiness of it, and he had hated being there. He had traveled off and on for months after that, but avoiding the house meant avoiding the two little girls Elizabeth had left him. And he couldn't bring himself to sell the house his father had built, and that he had grown up in. A traditionalist to the core, he felt an obligation to maintain it for his children. He had closed it eventually, and it had been two years since he'd been there. Now that he lived in Croton full-time, he never missed it. Neither the house, nor New York, nor the social life he'd left there. And as the summer sounds droned on, Olivia continued her painstaking inventory of the china. She had long sheets of paper on which she wrote in her meticulous hand, making note of what they needed to replace, and what had to be ordered. Sometimes she sent one of the servants to the house in town to bring something up to them, but for the most part, the city house was closed, and they never went there. She knew her father didn't like it. Her father's health was frail, and, like him, she was happy here in their quiet life in Croton-on-Hudson. She had actually spent very little time in New York since she was a child, except for the brief time two years before, when her father had taken them to New York, to present them to society and all his friends. She had found it interesting, but truly exhausting. She was overwhelmed by the parties, the theater, the constant social demands made on them. She had felt as though she were on stage the entire time, and she hated the attention. It was Victoria who had thrived on it, and who had been in a state of total gloom when they returned to Croton at Christmas. Olivia had been relieved to return to her books, their home, her horses, her peaceful walks high on the cliff which led her sometimes to neighboring farms. She loved riding here, and listening to the sounds of spring, watching winter melt slowly away from them, seeing the splendor of the turning leaves in October. She loved taking care of her father's house for him, and had since she was a very young girl, with the help of Alberta Peabody, the woman who had raised them. She was "Bertie" to them, and the closest to a mother the Henderson girls had ever known. Her eyes were poor, but her mind was sharp, and she could have told the two young women apart in the dark, with her eyes closed. She came to check on Olivia now, and asked her how far she had gotten. She didn't have the patience, or the eyes, to do this kind of minute work anymore, and she was always grateful when Olivia did it for her. Olivia carefully checked the embroidery, the crystal, the linens. She kept an eye on everything, and she loved doing it, unlike Victoria, who detested all things domestic. Victoria was, in every possible way, different from her sister. "Well, have they broken all our plates, or will we still be able to manage Christmas dinner? " Bertie smiled as she held up a glass of ice-cold lemonade and a plate of gingersnaps fresh out of the oven. Alberta Peabody had spent twenty years caring for the two girls she had come to think of as "her children. " They had become hers at birth, and she had never left them for a day, not since their mother had died, and she had first looked into Olivia's eyes and realized instantly how much she loved her. She was a short, round woman, with white hair in a small bun at the back of her head. She had an ample bosom where Olivia had rested her head through most of her childhood. She had comforted them whenever they needed it, and whenever their father wasn't there, which had been often when they were young. For years, he had grieved silently for their mother and kept his distance. But he had warmed toward them in recent years, and softened considerably since his health had begun to fail and he had retired from business. He had a weak heart, which he attributed to the shock and grief of losing two young wives, and the aggravations of modern business. He was far happier now that he was running things from here, and everything could be filtered for him through his attorneys. "We need soup plates, Bertie, " Olivia reported solemnly, brushing the long dark hair back again, totally unaware of her startling beauty. She had creamy white skin, huge dark blue eyes, and thick shining black hair the color of a raven. We need fish plates too. I'll order them from Tiffany next week. We must tell the girls in the kitchen to be more careful. " Bertie nodded, smiling up at her. Olivia could have been married by now, she could have had her own soup plates to inventory, instead she was still here, and perfectly at ease, taking care of her father and his house, and all his people. Olivia had no desire to go anywhere. She never even thought of it. She was happy right here at Henderson Manor. Unlike Victoria, who talked constantly about places halfway around the world, or at the very least in Europe. She glowered every time she thought of the house they were wasting in New York, and the fun they might have had there. Olivia looked down at Bertie then with a childlike grin. She was wearing a pale blue silk dress, which reached almost to her ankles, and it looked like a piece of summer sky wrapped around her as she stood there. She had had the dress copied from a magazine, and made by a local seamstress. It was a Poiret design, and it looked lovely on her. It was Olivia who always selected and designed their dresses. Victoria didn't really care. She let Olivia choose them, particularly, as she put it, since Olivia was her older sister. "The cookies are awfully good today, aren't they? Father will love them. " Olivia had ordered them especially for him, and John Watson, his principal attorney. "I suppose I should organize a tray for them, or have you already done it? " The two women exchanged a smile, born of years of sharing responsibilities and duties. And slowly, over the past few years, Olivia had grown from child to girl, to young woman, and mistress of her father's home. Olivia was very much in control of her surroundings, and Bertie knew it. She respected that, and most of the time deferred now to Olivia's opinions, although she thought nothing of opposing her, or scolding her, when she went out in the pouring rain, or did something childishly foolish, which she was still sometimes wont to do even at twenty. But nowadays Bertie found that less worrisome than refreshing. Olivia was so serious and responsible, that it did her good sometimes to forget all that she was supposed to be doing. "I've set the tray up for you, but I told Cook you'll want to order it yourself at the last minute, " Bertie told her. "Thank you. " Olivia came down the ladder gracefully, and kissed the old woman's cheek as she wrapped her long, elegant arms around her. Olivia lay her head on Bertie's shoulder for an instant, like a child, and then, after kissing her cheek affectionately again, she hurried off to the kitchen to see to the tray for her father and his lawyer. She ordered a pitcher of lemonade, a large plate of cookies for both of them, and small watercress and cucumber sandwiches, with paper-thin slices of tomatoes from their garden. There was sherry for them as well, and stronger spirits if they preferred them. Having grown up in her father's company, Olivia was not a girl who shrank from the thought of men drinking whiskey, or smoking cigars, in fact she liked the smell of them, as did her sister. When she'd approved the linens and the silver tray Bertie had set out, she left the kitchen, and found her father in the library. The curtains were drawn to keep the room cool, they were deep red brocade with heavy fringe, and Olivia adjusted them instinctively as she glanced at her father over her shoulder. "How are you feeling today, Father? It's terribly hot, isn't it? " "I rather like it. " He smiled proudly at her, well aware of her outstanding domestic talents. He often said that if it weren't for Olivia, he couldn't have run his home, or certainly not as smoothly. He had even jokingly said that he was afraid one of the Rockefellers might try and marry her, just so she could run Kykuit. He had been over to see it recently, and it was a spectacular home that John D. Rockefeller had built. It had every possible modern amenity, including telephones, central heating, and a generator in the carriage barn, and Olivia's father had teased that it made their home look like a bumpkin's cottage, which was hardly the case, but Kykuit was certainly their grandest neighbor. "This heat is good for my old bones, " he said comfortably, lighting a cigar, as he waited for his lawyer. Where's your sister? " he asked casually. It was always easy to find Olivia somewhere in the house, making lists, writing notes to the staff, checking on something that needed to be fixed, or arranging flowers for her father's table. Victoria was a great deal more difficult to keep track of. "I think she went to play tennis at the Astors', " Olivia said vaguely, with no clear idea of where she was, but only a vague suspicion. "Typical of her, " he said with a rueful grin at his older daughter. "I believe the Astors are in Maine for the summer, " as were most of their neighbors. The Hendersons had gone to Maine in previous summers too, and Newport, Rhode Island, but Edward Henderson no longer liked leaving Croton, even in the hottest of summers. "I'm sorry, Father. " Olivia blushed in embarrassment at the lie she'd told on behalf of her sister. "I thought perhaps they were back from Bal Harbor. " "I'm sure you did. " He looked amused. "And God only knows where your sister is, or what mischief she's been up to. " But they both knew that her vagaries were fairly harmless. She was an individual, a person on her own, and full of spirit and determination. She was as independent as their late mother had been, and in some ways, Edward Henderson had always suspected that his younger daughter was faintly eccentric. But as long as she didn't indulge it too excessively, it was something he could tolerate, and she could come to no great harm here. The worst she could do was fall out of a tree, get heat prostration walking miles to her nearest friend's, or swim a little too far down the river. The pleasures were all quite genteel here. Victoria had no romances in the neighborhood, no young men in hot pursuit, although several of the young Rockefellers and Van Cortlandts had certainly shown considerable interest in her. But everyone was well behaved, and even her father knew that Victoria was actually far more intellectual than romantic. "I'll look for her after I leave you, " Olivia said quietly, but neither of them were particularly concerned, as the tray from the kitchen was brought in, and she told the kitchen boy where to put it. "You'll need another glass, my dear, " her father instructed her he relit his cigar and thanked the boy whose name he never remembered. Olivia knew all of the people who worked for them, she knew their names, their histories, their parents, their sisters, their children. She knew their foibles and their strengths, and whatever mischief they occasionally got into. She was indeed the Mistress of Henderson Manor, perhaps even more than her own mother would have been, had she lived. In some ways, Olivia suspected that their mother had been far more like her sister. "Is John bringing someone with him? " Olivia looked surprised. Her father's attorney usually came alone, except when there was some problem at the mill, and she had heard nothing about it this time if there was. Usually, their father shared that kind of information with them. All of that would be theirs one day, although more than likely, the girls would sell the mills, unless they married men who were capable of running them, but Edward considered that less than likely. Her father sighed over his cigar in answer to her question. "Unfortunately, my dear, John is bringing someone today. I'm afraid I've come too far in this world. I've outlived two wives, a son, my doctor last year, most of my friends in the last decade, and now John Watson tells me he's thinking of retiring. He's bringing along a man who's recently joined his firm, and whom he seems to think quite a lot of. " "But John's not that old, " Olivia looked surprised, and almost as disturbed as her father, "and neither are you, so stop talking like that. " She knew he had begun to feel ancient since he'd been unwell, and even more so since he'd retired. "I am ancient. You have no idea what it's like when everyone IMMORTALS around you starts disappearing, " he said, scowling and thinking of the new attorney he didn't want to meet that afternoon. "No one is going anywhere, and neither is John for the moment, I'm sure, " she said reassuringly, as she poured him a small glass of sherry and handed it to him, with the plate of fresh ginger cookies. He took one, and looked extremely pleased as he looked at her. "Perhaps he won't go after all, after he tastes these cookies. I must say, Olivia, you get them to make miracles in that kitchen. " "Thank you. " She leaned over and kissed him, and he looked up at her with all the pleasure he felt each time he saw her. She looked remarkably comfortable and cool on such a hot day, and she took one of the gingersnaps herself and sat down next to him as they waited for John Watson. "So who's the new man? " she asked curiously after a few minutes. She knew that Watson was a year or two younger than her father, but it still seemed young to retire, to her, and he had always seemed very youthful. But perhaps he was wise, bringing someone new into their affairs sooner rather than later. "Have you met him before? " "Not yet. This will be the first time. John says he's extremely good at what he does, mostly business affairs, and he's done some estate matters for some of the Astors. He came to John's office from an excellent firm, with a very good recommendation. " "Why did he change? " she asked, intrigued. She liked hearing about her father's business. Victoria did too, but she was far more hotheaded in her opinions. Sometimes the three of them had rare go-arounds about some issues of politics or point of business, but all three of them thoroughly enjoyed it. Perhaps because he had no son, Edward Henderson loved discussing intelligent matters with his daughters. "According to John, the new man, Dawson, had a hard blow last year. Actually, it made me feel sorry for him, and I think that's why I let John bring him . . . it's the sort of thing I'm afraid I understand rather too well. " He smiled sadly at her. "He lost his wife last year on the Titanic. She was a daughter of Lord Arnsborough's, and I think she'd gone home to visit her sister. Damn shame she came back on the Titanic. Nearly lost his boy too. Apparently, they got him off in one of the last lifeboats. It was already too full, and she put another child in her place, and said she'd come on the next one. There was no next one, and she didn't get in the last of the lifeboats. I gather he left the firm he was with, took the boy, and spent the year in Europe. It only happened sixteen months ago, and I think he's only been with Watson since May or June. Poor devil. John says he's very good, but a bit gloomy. He'll come out of it, we all do. He'll have to, for the boy's sake. " It reminded him all too much of when he'd lost Elizabeth, although his loss had been due to complications of childbirth and not a disaster of the magnitude of the Titanic. But still, it had been disastrous to him, and he knew only too well how the man felt. Edward Henderson sat lost in thought for a moment, as did Olivia, digesting what her father had said, and both of them looked startled when they looked up and suddenly saw John Watson standing in the doorway. "Well, how did you get in unannounced? Have you taken to climbing in the windows? " Edward Henderson laughed at his old friend, as he stood to greet him, and crossed the room looking extremely healthy. He was in good form these days, thanks to Olivia's constant care, and in spite of his complaints about how badly he was aging. "No one pays any attention to me at all, " John Watson laughed. He was tall, and had a shock of white hair, much like Olivia's father, who was also tall and aristocratic, and had once had the same shining black hair as his daughters. The blue eyes were the same too, and they came alive now as he chatted animatedly with John Watson. The two men had known each other since school. Edward had actually been the closest friend of John's slightly older brother. He had been dead for years, and Edward and John had long since become fast friends, and associates in all of the Henderson legal matters. Seeing them engaged in earnest conversation almost at once, Olivia glanced at the tray again, to see that all was in order, and prepared to leave the room, and then she turned and was startled to almost walk into the arms of Charles Dawson. It was odd seeing him there, after they had just talked about him, and embarrassing to know so much of his loss, and his grief, without ever having met him. As she looked at him, he seemed very handsome and somewhat austere, and she thought she had never seen sadder eyes on anyone. They were like dark pools of green, almost the color of seawater. But he managed a small smile when her father introduced them. And as they spoke, she saw something more than just tragedy about him. There was great kindness in his eyes, and gentleness, it almost made her want to reach out and console him. "How do you do, " he said politely, shaking her hand, and seeming to take every inch of her in with interest. He didn't look her over improperly, although he was certainly aware of how beautiful she was, but he seemed mostly curious about her. "May I offer you some lemonade? " she asked, feeling suddenly shy, and hiding behind her comfortable duties. "Or would you prefer sherry? I'm afraid Father prefers sherry, even on days as hot as this one. " "Lemonade would be fine. " He smiled at her again, and the two older men went back to their conversation. She gave John Watson a glass of lemonade as well, and all three men gladly accepted the gingersnap cookies. And then, having fulfilled her responsibilities to them, Olivia quietly withdrew and closed the doors behind her. But as she left the room, something about the look in Charles Dawson's eyes haunted her, or maybe it was just because she knew his story from her father. She wondered how old his little boy was, and how Charles managed without a wife, or perhaps he had someone in his life by now. She tried to shake off her thoughts of him, it was ridiculous to be worrying about one of her father's attorneys, and quite inappropriate in fact, she scolded herself, as she turned quickly to go back to the kitchen, and nearly collided with her father's under-chauffeur. He was a boy of sixteen who had worked in the stables for years, but knew a great deal more about cars than he did about horses. And since her father had a great love for the modern machines, and had bought one of the earliest cars while they still lived in New York, Petrie, the stable boy, had made a rapid and pleasing transition. "What is it, Petrie? What's wrong? " she asked matter-of-factly. He looked totally disheveled, and completely flustered. "I have to see your father right away, miss, " he said, obviously near tears, as she tried to lead him away from the library before he disturbed her father in his meeting. "I'm afraid you can't. He's busy. Is there something I can help you with? " she said gently but firmly. He hesitated, and then looked around, as though afraid someone would hear him. "It's the Ford. " He looked terrified as he told her. "It's been stolen. " His eyes were round with tears, he knew what would happen to him when word got out. He would lose the best job he could ever have, and he couldn't understand how it had happened. "Stolen? " She looked as startled as he did. "How is that possible? How could someone come on the property and just take it, and no one notice? " "I don't know, miss. And I seen it just this morning. I was cleaning it. It was all bright and shiny like the day your father bought it. I just left the garage door open for a little while, to air the place out, because it gets so hot, you know, with the sun directly on it, and half an hour later, it was gone. Just gone. " His eyes filled with tears again, and Olivia put a gentle hand on his shoulder. There was something about his story which had struck her. "What time would that have been, Petrie? Do you remember? " Her voice and her manner were extremely calm, most unusually so for a girl of twenty, but she was used to handling minor crises on the estate daily. And this one had a particular ring to it. "It was eleven-thirty, miss. I know it exactly. " Olivia had last seen her sister at eleven. And the Ford he was so distraught over was the car her father had bought the year before for staffpurposes, errands into town, missions to be carried out in something other than the Cadillac Tourer he was driven in whenever he left Henderson Manor. "You know, Petrie, " Olivia said quietly, "I think you ought to let the dust settle for a moment. It's entirely possible that some member of the staff might have borrowed it for an errand, without thinking to mention it to you. Perhaps the gardener, I asked him to look at some rosebushes for me over at the Shepards', perhaps he forgot to tell you. " She was suddenly certain that the car hadn't been stolen, and she needed to stall him. If he told her father, then the police would be called, and that would be terribly embarrassing. She couldn't let that happen. "But Kittering can't drive, miss. He wouldn't have taken the Ford to go look at your roses. He'd take one of the horses, or his bicycle, not the Ford, miss. " "Well, perhaps someone else is driving it, but I don't think we should tell my father just yet. Besides, he's busy anyway, we'll wait until dinnertime, shall we? And we'll see if anyone brings it back. I feel sure they will. Now, would you like some lemonade and cookies in the kitchen? " She had led him slowly in that direction, and he seemed slightly mollified, though still very nervous. He was terrified he'd lose his job when her father found out that he'd let the car get stolen right out of the garage. But Olivia continued to reassure him as she poured him a glass of lemonade, and handed him a plate of the irresistible cookies, as the cook watched them. She promised to check in with Petrie later in the day, and made him promise not to whisper a word of it to her father in the meantime, and then with a wink at the cook, she hurried out of the kitchen, hoping to avoid Bertie, whom she saw advancing on her from the distance. But Olivia was faster than all of them. She slipped out a pair of long French doors into the side garden, and sighed as she felt the crushing heat of the NORTHERN New York summer. This was why people went to Newport and Maine. It was unbearable here in the summer and no one stayed, if they could possibly help it. By fall, it would be lovely again. And in spring, when the endless winter finally came to a close, it was always idyllic. But winters were brutal, and summers were more so. Most people went to the city in winter, and the seashore in summer, but not her father anymore. They stayed here in Croton-on-Hudson all year round now. Olivia wished she had time to go swimming that afternoon, as she walked absentmindedly down one of her favorite paths toward the back of the property, where there was a beautiful, hidden garden. She loved to come riding here, and there was a narrow gate to their neighbor's property which she would often slip through in order to enjoy her ride on his property as well, but no one minded. They all shared these hills like one happy family, and the good friends they were who had built here. In spite of the heat, she walked a long way that afternoon, no longer thinking of the lost car, but oddly enough, she found herself thinking of Charles Dawson, and the story her father had told her. How awful to lose your wife so tragically, and so dramatically. He must have been sick with worry when he first heard. She could just imagine it, and she sat down on a log finally, still thinking of him, and as she did, she heard the rumble of a motorcar in the distance. She sat very still for a minute then, listening, and looked up to see the missing Ford scraping through the narrow wooden gate at the back of their property, with a sudden grating noise, as the driver took the rubber and the paint off the side of the running boards just to get through it. But despite the obviously tight fit, the car didn't slow for a moment. Olivia watched in astonishment as the car chugged into full view, and her sister grinned at her from behind the wheel, and waved. And in the hand that Victoria waved at her was a cigarette. She was smoking. Olivia didn't move from where she sat, she just stared at her and shook her head, as Victoria stopped the car and continued to smile at her, and blew a cloud of smoke in her direction. "Do you realize that Petrie wanted to tell Father that the car was stolen, and he would have called the police if I'd let him? " Olivia was not surprised to see her there, but she wasn't happy either. She was all too familiar with her younger sister's exploits, and the two women sat looking at each other, the one perfectly calm, and obviously not pleased, the other greatly amused at her own indiscretion. But the most remarkable thing of all was that except for the difference of expression, and the fact that Victoria's hair seemed looser and more windblown than Olivia's, the two women were totally identical. For each of them, it was like looking in the mirror. The same eyes, the same mouths, the same cheekbones and hair, right down to the same gestures. There were infinitesimal differences about each of them, and there was an aura of easygoing good nature about Victoria that more than bordered on mischief, and yet one would have been hard-pressed to tell them apart if one had to. Their father often made mistakes when coming upon one of them alone in a room or on the property somewhere, and the servants mistook them constantly. Their friends in school, when they'd gone and hadn't been tutored at home, had absolutely never been able to tell them apart, and their father had eventually decided to have them taught at home, because they caused so much consternation at school and attracted so much attention. They switched places whenever they chose, tormented their teachers mercilessly, or at least Victoria did, or so Olivia claimed. They had a wonderful time, but their father seriously doubted that they were getting an education. But being tutored at home had left them isolated, and with only each other's friendship. They had both missed going to school, but their father was emphatic about it. He was not going to have them behaving like circus freaks, and if the school couldn't control them, Mrs. Peabody and their tutors could. In fact, Mrs. Peabody was the only living person who unfailingly knew exactly who was who. She could tell them apart anywhere, back, front, even before they spoke. And she also knew the single secret from which one could distinguish them, one small freckle which Olivia had at the top of her right palm, and Victoria had identically and equally minutely on her left one. Their father knew about it too, of course, although none of their friends did, but it was too much trouble to remember to look for it. It was easier to just question them, and hope they were telling the truth about their identities, which they usually did, now that they were older. They were totally identical, mirror twins, and had caused a furor all around them since birth, right up till the present. It had turned their presentation to society in New York into a total uproar two years before, and it was why their father had insisted on bringing them home that year even before Christmas. It was just too difficult having that much attention everywhere they went. He felt they were being treated as curiosities and it was far too exhausting. Victoria was crushed to have to come home, although Olivia didn't mind it. She had been ready to come back to Croton. But Victoria had been chafing at their life ever since, and all she ever seemed to talk about anymore was how incredibly boring life was on the Hudson. She wondered how any of them could bear it. The only other subject that truly inspired Victoria was that of women's suffrage. It was the fire with which she burned, the passion which lit her every moment. And Olivia was sick to death of hearing about it. All Victoria seemed to talk about anymore was Alice Paul, who had organized the march in Washington that April, where dozens of women were arrested, forty were injured, and it took a cavalry troop to restore order. Olivia had also heard far too much about Emily Davison, who had been killed two months before, when she ran in front of the King's horse at the derby, in England, and then there were the Pankhursts, mere etfilles who were busy wreaking havoc in the name of women's rights in England. Just talking about them made Victoria's eyes dance, and Olivia roll hers in boredom. But now Olivia sat waiting for her sister's excuses and explanations. "So did they call the police? " Victoria asked, looking amused, and not in the least apologetic. "No, they did not call the police, " Olivia said sternly. "I bribed Petrie with lemonade and cookies and told him to wait till dinner. But they should have. I should have let them. I knew it was you. " She tried to look angry, but something in her eyes said she wasn't, and Victoria knew it. "How did you know it was me? " Victoria looked delighted, and not contrite for a single instant. "I felt it, you wretch . One of these days they will call the police on you over something, and I'll let them. " "No, you won't, " Victoria said confidently, with a glint in her eyes that would have reminded their father of their mother. Physically Victoria was the portrait of Olivia, right down to the blue silk dress she was wearing. Olivia laid her sister's clothes out for her every morning, and Victoria always put them on without question. She loved being a twin, always had, they both did. It suited them perfectly. And it had gotten Victoria out of every scrape in her life. Olivia was always either willing to make excuses for her, or even to trade places with her, either to get her out of a jam, or when they were children, just because sometimes it was fun to do it. Their father had often lectured them about being responsible, and not taking advantage of their unusual circumstances, but sometimes it was hard not to. Everything about them seemed unusual. They were closer than two people could ever have been. And sometimes, to each of them, it almost seemed as though they were the same person. And yet, in so many ways, deep inside, they each knew they were very different. Victoria was bolder, and both far more mischievous and more adventuresome. She had always been the one who'd gotten into trouble. She was so fascinated by a broader world than Olivia was. Olivia was happier to stay at home, and let her boundaries be those set by family, home, and tradition. Victoria wanted to fight for women's rights, she wanted to demonstrate and speak. She thought marriage was barbaric, and unnecessary for truly independent women. Olivia thought all of that was quite crazy, but she also thought it was only a passing fancy of her sister's. There had been others, political movements that had fascinated her, religious ideals, intellectual concepts she had read about. Olivia was far more down to earth, and much less willing to ride into battle for obscure causes. Her world was a great deal smaller. And yet, to the naked eye, and the uninitiated, they appeared to be one and the same, even to those who knew them. "So when did you learn to drive? " Olivia asked, tapping her foot, as Victoria laughed from the car. She had just tossed the last of her cigarette into the dirt near where her sister was sitting. Olivia always played the role of the stern older sister. She was eleven minutes older than Victoria, but it was those eleven minutes that had made all the difference. And in sadder moments, when they bared their souls, Victoria had long since confessed to her twin that she felt she was the one who had killed their mother. "You didn't kill her, " Olivia had said firmly, when they were only children. "God did. " "He did not! " Victoria had defended Him, in outrage. And Mrs. Peabody had been appalled when she discovered what the argument was about, and later on she had explained that childbirth can be very difficult at best, and having twins is something superhuman that only angels should attempt. And clearly, their mother had been an angel, had deposited them on earth with their father who loved them so much, and had returned to Heaven. It settled the question of blame, at the time, but Victoria had always secretly felt that she had in fact killed their mother, and Olivia knew it, and nothing she had ever said in all their twenty years had ever changed that. Neither of them were thinking of that now, as Olivia questioned Victoria about her driving. "I taught myself last winter. " Victoria shrugged in amusement. "Taught yourself? How? " "I just took the keys and tried it. I banged the car up a little the first few times, but Petrie never figured it out, he kept thinking that other people had run into him when he'd been in town and left it parked. " She looked pleased with herself and Olivia forced herself to scowl at her, in order not to laugh, but Victoria knew her better. "Stop looking at me like that. It's a damn useful thing to know. I can run you into town anytime you like now. " "Or into a tree more likely. " Olivia refused to be mollified. Her sister could have killed herself tooling around the countryside in a car she really didn't know how to drive. It was crazy. "And your smoking is disgusting. " But at least that she'd known about it for a while. She had found a package of Fatimas in their dresser that winter, and been horrified. But when she mentioned it, Victoria only laughed and shrugged, and refused to comment. "Don't be so old-fashioned, " Victoria said amiably. "If we lived in London or Paris, you'd be smoking too, just to be fashionable, and you know it. " "I know nothing of the sort, Victoria Henderson. It's a revolting habit for a lady, and you know it. So where were you? " Victoria hesitated for a long moment, while Olivia waited. She was expecting an answer, and Victoria always told her the truth. The two had no secrets, and the few times they did, the other always instinctively knew the truth. It was as though they each always knew what the other was thinking. "Confess, " Olivia said sternly, and Victoria suddenly looked much younger than twenty. "All right. I went to a meeting of the National American Women's Suffrage Association in Tarrytown. Alice Paul was there, she came especially to organize the meeting, and see about setting up a group right here on the Hudson. The president of NAWSA herself, Anna Howard Shaw, was supposed to be there, but she couldn't make it. " "Oh for God's sake, Victoria, what are you doing? Father will be calling the police if you get yourself into demonstrations or anything of the sort. More than likely, you'll be arrested, and Father will have to bail you out, " she said in sudden outrage, but Victoria did not look discouraged by the prospect, on the contrary, she seemed to like it. "It would be worth it, Ollie. She was absolutely inspirational. You should come next time. " "Next time, I'm tying you to the bedpost. And if you steal the car again for nonsense like that, I'll let Petrie call the police, and I'll tell them who did it. " "No, you won't. Come on, hop in. I'll drive you back to the garage. " "Great. Now you'll get us both in trouble. Thank you very much, my darling sister. " "Don't be such a stiff. This way, no one will know which one of us it is. " As always, their being so totally identical was an excellent cover. No one ever knew which one did anything, which served Victoria's purposes better than her sister's, who rarely needed a scapegoat. "They'd know, if they had any brains, " Olivia grumbled as she got in cautiously, and Victoria roared off across the bumpy back road, while Olivia complained loudly about her driving. Victoria offered her a cigarette then, and as Olivia was about to read her the riot act again, she suddenly started to laugh instead at the absurdity of the situation. It was hopeless to try and control Victoria, and Olivia knew it, as Victoria drove the car right into the garage and almost ran over Petrie. He stared at them with his mouth open, as they both got out in unison, both thanked him solemnly and Victoria apologized for the minor damage. **skip**"But I thought . . . I . . . when did you . . . I mean . . . yes, Miss . . . thank you . . . Miss Olivia . . . Miss Victoria . . . Miss . . . " He had no idea which was which, who had done what, and had no intention of trying to find out either. All he had to l do was replace the rubber on the running board and touch up the paint now. At least the car hadn't been stolen after all. And looking very dignified, the two young women walked back to the house arm in arm, and up the front steps, as they began to giggle. "You really are awful, you know, " Olivia scolded her. "The poor thing thought Dad was going to kill him over it. You're going to end up in jail one day, I'm sure of it. " "So am I, " said Victoria with total unconcern, as she gave her sister a squeeze. "But maybe you'll switch with me for a month or two and I can go out and get some air, and go to some meetings. How does that sound?" "Disgusting. My days of covering for you are over, " Olivia said, wagging a finger at her, but loving her more than ever. She loved being with her. Her twin was her best friend, and like the other side of her own soul. They knew each other better than any two people could ever know anyone, and Olivia was at her happiest, they both were, when they were together. Although Victoria certainly seemed to spend enough time going off on her own and getting into mischief. The two girls were just walking through the main hall, talking and laughing, as the library door opened and the three men walked into the hall, still talking about their own plans and decisions. And as they saw them, the two girls fell silent, and Olivia immediately saw Charles again, and watched him, as he stared at both of them, totally startled and confused by what he was seeing. He looked from one to the other repeatedly, as though trying to derive an explanation in his own mind for two women so totally identical, and so beautiful, and yet it was as though he sensed a difference between them. His eyes were riveted on Victoria, with her hair slightly more windblown than Olivia's, her dress identical, yet somehow more easily worn, there was something irreverent and shocking about her. And yet, to the naked eye, one couldn't see how outrageous she was, but one could sense it. "Oh my, " Edward Henderson said, smiling as he watched Charles' reaction. "Did I forget to warn you? " "I'm afraid you did, sir, " Charles Dawson said, blushing, peeling his eyes off of Victoria, and glancing at Olivia again in confusion, and then back at their father. They were used to it, and were amused, but he obviously wasn't. "Merely an optical illusion, don't worry about i t, " Edward Henderson teased him. He liked Charles. He seemed to be a good man. And they had had a very good session, full of bright new ideas, and ways to improve his businesses, and protect his investments. "It must have been the sherry. " He grinned at the younger man, and Charles Dawson laughed, suddenly looking boyish. He was thirty six years old, but in the past year, he had come to look so serious that his friends said he looked suddenly much older. And now, he looked like a boy again as he stared in confused disbelief at the two beauties before him. And even more confusingly, they moved toward him in unison, unconscious of how totally their movements mirrored each other. They each shook hands with him, and Edward introduced Olivia again, and Victoria for the first time, and they both laughed, and pointed out to their father that he had gotten it wrong, which made Charles laugh even more. "Does he do that often? " he asked, feeling more at ease with them than he had a moment before, though still quite dazzled. It would be impossible not to. "All the time, though we don't always tell him, " Victoria answered, meeting his eyes squarely. Charles seemed fascinated by her, as though he could sense something unusual about her. In the subtlest of ways, she was more sensual than her sister, yet the clothes, the look, the hair were the same, but the inner workings weren't. "When they were very young, " Edward explained, "we used to put different-colored hair ribbons in their hair, to identify them. It worked perfectly, and then one day, we discovered that the little monsters had learned to take off their hair ribbons and tie them again, very carefully, to confuse us. They would trade places that way, and it went on for months before we discovered it. They were quite dreadful as children, " he said, with obvious pride and affection. Despite his dislike for the public stir they caused whenever he took them out, he adored them. They had been the final gift of a woman he had loved with his entire soul, and he had never loved anyone again after her, except her daughters. "Are they better behaved now? " Charles asked, still amused by them, and the shock they had caused him. He had had absolutely no warning that there even were twins, neither from Edward Henderson, nor John Watson. "They're only slightly better now, " Edward said grudgingly, and they all laughed, and then he scowled at both of them, as though issuing a warning. "But you'd better behave yourselves, you two. These two gentlemen tell me that it's necessary to go to New York for a month or so, in order to take care of some of my business, and if you can manage not to turn the town on its ear this time, I'll take you with me. But any nonsense from either of you, " he said, wishing he could tell which one of them was Victoria, but he couldn't, "and I'll pack you right back here with Bertie. " "Yes, sir, " Olivia said quietly with a smile, knowing that the warning was not meant for her, but for her sister. Suspecting that he wasn't quite sure at the moment which of them he was addressing, Olivia could always tell when he wasn't certain. But Victoria wasn't making any promises, her eyes were dancing at the prospect of a month in the city. "Are you serious? " she asked, wide-eyed with delight. "About sending you back? " he blustered. "Absolutely. " "No, about New York, I mean. " She looked from her father to the lawyers, and they were all smiling. "Apparently, " her father answered. "It could even be two months, if they don't do their jobs right, and dally around once we get there. " "Oh please, Daddy, " Victoria said, clapping her hands and doing a little pirouette on one heel and then grabbing her sister by the shoulders. "Think of it! New York, Ollie! New York! " She was beside herself with joy and excitement, and it made her father feel guilty when he thought of how isolated they were here. They were of an age where they belonged in the city now, meeting people, and finding husbands. But he hated the thought of them leaving him forever, particularly Olivia. She was so helpful to him, she did so much for him. What would he ever do without her? But he was worrying prematurely. They hadn't even packed their bags and gone to the city yet, and he already imagined them married, and himself abandoned. "I hope we'll see more of you, Charles, when we come to the city, " Edward said as he shook his hand finally in the doorway. Victoria was still talking about New York to Olivia, paying no attention at all to the two men who had come to visit. And Olivia was quietly watching Charles as he said good-bye to their father. He assured Mr. Henderson that he would see a great deal of him at the office, as long as John Watson was willing to let him handle his business. John assured him that he would, and Edward urged Charles to come to see them at the house as well, as Charles thanked him politely for the invitation. And as he left, Charles glanced over the older man's shoulder and looked into Victoria's eyes again. He wasn't sure which one she was, but he felt the oddest pull whenever he looked at her. He couldn't have explained it if someone had asked him to, it was a kind of electricity he felt from her, and not from her sister. It was the oddest feeling not knowing which was which, and yet he was fascinated by both of them. He had never met anyone like them. Edward Henderson walked the men to their car, and as they drove away Olivia stood watching them at the window. And despite her wild excitement over New York, Victoria noticed. "What's that all about? " She had seen Olivia's intense look at the car driving slowly down their driveway. "What do you mean? " Olivia asked, turning away to go and check on the library, and make sure the tray had been removed directly after the meeting. "You're looking awfully serious, Ollie, " Victoria accused. They knew each other far too well. It was dangerous sometimes, and at others merely annoying. "His wife died on the Titanic last year. Father says he has a little boy. " "I'm sorry to hear about his wife, " Victoria said, sounding unmoved. "But he looks terribly boring, doesn't he? " she said, dismissing him, in favor of countless unnamed delights soon to be discovered in New York, among them political rallies and suffragists' meetings, none of which interested her sister. "I think he looks incredibly dreary. " Olivia nodded, and made no comment as she walked into the library to escape her sister. And when she emerged again, satisfied that the tray was gone, Victoria had gone upstairs to change for dinner. Olivia had laid her clothes out for her earlier that afternoon. They were both going to wear a white silk dress, each with an aquamarine pin, a pair that was their mother's. And a few minutes later, Olivia went to the kitchen to find Bertie. She knew instantly that she was Olivia, and not her sister. "Are you all right? " she asked Olivia, looking worried for a moment. It had been a terribly hot day and she knew Olivia had been out walking. And the young woman looked suddenly very pale now. "I'm fine. Father has just told me we're going to New York at the beginning of September. We're going to stay for a month or two, while he does some business. " The two women exchanged a smile. They both knew what that meant. An incredible amount of work and planning to open the house in New York. "I thought you and I could get together tomorrow morning to start making plans, " she said quietly. She had a great deal to think about, a lot to do for him, most of which her father was entirely unaware of. "You're a good girl, " Bertie said softly to her, touching the pale cheek, as she looked at the huge blue eyes, wondering if something had upset her. Olivia was feeling something she had never felt before, and she was finding it unnerving and confusing. Even more so, worrying that Victoria was going to march right into her thoughts and expose them. "You work so hard for your father, " Bertie praised her. She knew them both so well, and loved them both with all their similarities and differences. They were both good girls, as different as they were, beneath the surface. "I'll meet with you tomorrow morning then, " Olivia said quietly, and then left the kitchen to go upstairs to change. She went up the back stairs this time, trying to clear her thoughts, so Victoria wouldn't look right into them like a body of clear, translucent water. It was impossible to keep secrets from her, impossible for either of them. They had never even tried to. But as she tried to think of other things, as she approached their huge room where they shared the same canopied bed they'd slept in all their lives, Olivia found she couldn't get her mind off of him. All she could think of were those green eyes, those deep dark pools that led straight to the soul of the man who had lost his wife to the Atlantic. She closed her eyes for a moment then as she turned the knob, and forced herself to think of more mundane things, like the new sheets she would probably need to order for New York, and the pillowcases she needed to bring for her father. She filled her head with fanalities, and then she walked briskly across the room to her sister. Chapter 2. On the first Wednesday afternoon in September, Olivia and Victoria Henderson were driven to New York by their father's chauffeur, Donovan, in the Cadillac Tourer, with Petrie driving Mrs. Peabody in the Ford just behind them. They brought endless supplies with them, and two other cars had been sent down the day before, carrying trunks of linens and clothes, and everything that Olivia and Bertie had decided were dire necessities that they absolutely had to have with them to run a decent household. Victoria didn't care wha t they took. She packed two trunks of books, a case full of papers she wanted to read, and she let Olivia pick all their clothing. She really didn't care what she wore, she had always deferred to Olivia's taste, which seemed excellent to her twin sister. Olivia read all the magazines from Paris. Victoria preferred political journals, and underground papers put out by members of the women's party. But Olivia was seriously concerned with the state of the house on lower Fifth Avenue, which had been uninhabited for two years, and seldom visited for several years before that. It had been comfortable once upon a time, and much loved long before that, but that had been twenty years before, and Olivia was sure that it wouldn't be easy giving it a welcoming feeling. It was, after all, the house where her mother had died, and she knew how painful her father's memories were of it. And yet it was also the house where she and Victoria had been born, and a place where, not long before that, Edward Henderson and his young bride had been immensely happy. After seeing to the amenities, and setting Donovan loose in all the bathrooms with a wrench in each hand, to tighten and loosen whatever needed it, she had Petrie drive her to the flower market on Sixth Avenue and Twenty-eighth Street, and she returned two hours later with a carful of beautiful asters, and fragrant lilies. She was determined to fill the house with the flowers he loved for her father's arrival two days later. Dustcovers were pulled off and put away, rooms were aired, beds were turned topsy-turvy, mattresses were flipped over, carpets were beaten. It took an army to do it, but by the following afternoon, Bertie and Olivia met in the kitchen for a cup of tea, and smiled at what they'd accomplished. The chandeliers were sparkling, some of the furniture had been rearranged until rooms were barely recognizable, and Olivia had pulled all of the heavy curtains back in order to let more light in. "Your father will be very pleased, " Bertie congratulated her as they poured a second cup of tea, and Olivia made a note to herself to see about getting tickets to the theater. There were several new plays opening, and she and Victoria had vowed to see all of them before they went back to Croton-on-Hudson. But thinking of that made her wonder where her sister was. She hadn't seen her since early that morning, when Victoria had said she was going to the Low Library at Columbia, and the Metropolitan Museum. It was a long way, and Olivia had offered to send Petrie with her, but Victoria had insisted on taking the streetcar. She preferred the adventure. And after that, Olivia had completely forgotten her, until now when she began getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Do you suppose Father will mind all the furniture we moved? " Olivia asked distractedly, hoping that Bertie wouldn't detect her growing worry. Olivia's back was aching from all they had done in the past two days, but she didn't feel it now as she began to worry about her sister. She always had an instinctive sense about her, and knew without fail when Victoria was in trouble. It was something they each had, and had often talked about. It was a special kind of warning device that told each of them when the other was either sick or in trouble. And Olivia wasn't sure what it was telling her this time, but she knew that she was getting some kind of a signal. "Your father is going to be so happy to see the house like this, " Bertie reassured her again, seemingly unaware of Olivia's growing discomfort. "You must be exhausted. " "Actually, I am, " Olivia confessed uncharacteristically, just so she could go to her room, and think for a moment. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Victoria had left the house shortly after nine o'clock that morning. Just thinking about it made Olivia panic, and berate herself for not insisting on sending someone with her. This was not Croton-on-Hudson. Her sister was young and well dressed, and obviously inexperienced in dealing with big cities. What if she'd been attacked, or kidnapped? The thought didn't even bear thinking. But as Olivia paced her room, worrying, she heard the phone ring, and knew instinctively it was her sister. She flew toward the only phone they had, in the upstairs hall, and grabbed it before anyone else could answer. "Hello? " she said breathlessly, sure that it would be Victoria, and instantly disappointed when it was an unknown male voice. Olivia was sure it was a wrong number "Is this the Henderson residence? " the voice asked in an Irish brogue, as Olivia frowned. They didn't know anyone in New York, and Olivia couldn't imagine who was calling. "It is. Who's calling? " she said firmly, feeling her hand tremble as she held the earpiece in one hand, and the speaker in the other. "Is this Miss Henderson? " he asked in resounding tones, as Olivia nodded, and then answered. "Yes, it is. Who is this? " she insisted. "This is Sergeant O"Shaunessy at the Fifth Precinct, " he said firmly, and Olivia held her breath and closed her eyes, knowing what was coming before he said it. "I . . . is she all right? . . . " It was barely a whisper. What if she'd been injured? Kicked by a horse . . . stabbed by a petty criminal . . . thrown to the ground and run over by a carriage . . . or a runaway horse . . . hit by a motorcar . . . Olivia couldn't bear it. "She's fine. " He sounded exasperated, rather than sympathetic. "She's here wither . . . a group of young ladies . . . and we . . . uh . . . the lieutenant determined from the look of her that she didn't ... ah . . . quite belong here. The other . . . er ... young ladies ... are being detained overnight. To put it quite bluntly, Miss Henderson, they've all been arrested for demonstrating without a permit. And if you'll be good enough to come and get your sister immediately, we'll send her home without booking her, and no one will be the wiser. But I suggest you don't come down here alone, if there's someone you can bring with you. " Her mind went completely blank. She didn't want Donovan or Petrie knowing that Victoria had just been picked up by the police and narrowly missed being arrested, and she certainly didn't want them telling her father. "What exactly did she do? " Olivia asked, overwhelmed with gratitude that they were willing to let Victoria go and not arrest her. "Demonstrate, like the others, but she's very young, and very foolish, and she tells me she only got to New York yesterday. I suggest the two of you go back where you came from as soon as possible, before she gets herself in more trouble with this damn fool Women's Suffrage Association she's gotten herself mixed up with. She's giving us quite a time. She didn't want us to call you. She wants us to arrest her. " He said it with a tone of amusement, as Olivia closed her eyes in horror. "Oh my God, please don't listen to her. I'll be right there. " "Bring someone with you, " he said again sternly. "Please don't arrest her, " Olivia breathe into the phone in a whisper, begging him, but he had no intention of doing that and causing a scandal. It was easy to see from her shoes, and her clothes, and even the hat she wore, however "simple" she thought she appeared, that Victoria did not belong with the others. And he wasn't about to get kicked off the force for arresting some fancy aristocrat's daughter. He wanted her off his hands as soon as Olivia could get there. But Olivia didn't even know where to begin, or who to talk to. Unlike her sister, she couldn't drive a car, and didn't want to alert the servants. She'd have to get a cab, it would take too long if she went by streetcar, and there was absolutely no one she could take with her, not even Bertie. She couldn't believe what had happened. Victoria actually wanted them to arrest her. She was completely crazy, and Olivia promised herself to be absolutely furious as soon as she had retrieved her from the Fifth Precinct. But first, she had to go get her. And as she tried on all the possibilities of how to get to her, how to get her out, and how to get there in a city she scarcely knew, and had no idea how to get around in, she realized the sergeant was right, and she had to bring someone with her. And as much as she hated to do it, she knew she had to. She had no choice, and she sat down quietly in the little closet they used for the telephone, and slowly lifted the receiver. As soon as the operator came on the line, she gave her the familiar number. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but there was simply no one else to call, not even John Watson, whom she had known all her life. But she had no doubt whatsoever that if she called him now, he would tell her father. The receptionist answered immediately, and told her to wait while she went to get him. She was extremely attentive once Olivia said who she was, although she had hoped not to have to. It was four-thirty by then, and she was terrified he might have left early. But he hadn't, and Charles Dawson's deep, quiet voice came on the line a moment later. "Miss Henderson? " He sounded surprised more than anything|d Olivia had to force herself not to whisper. I'm terribly sorry to bother you, " she began apologetically. "Not at all. I'm glad you called. " But he could hear in her voice that something had happened, and he only hoped that nothing had happened to her father. "Is something wrong? " he asked very gently. He knew, himself, only too well how swiftly tragedy can strike, and he sounded incredibly kind as he asked her, and she didn't know how to answer. She had to fight back tears as she thought of what Victoria had done this time. She tried not to think of the disgrace to their father if Victoria had in fact been arrested, and she wanted to scream with mortification and fear every time she thought of her sister being held at the Fifth Precinct. "I . . . I'm afraid . . . I need your help, Mr. Dawson . and your absolute discretion. " She sounded so worried and he couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened. "I'm afraid my sister ... I . . . could you possibly come here to see me? " "Now? " He had come out of a meeting to speak to her, and he couldn't imagine what needed his immediate attention. "Is it urgent? " "Very, " she said, sounding desperate, and he glanced at his watch as he heard her. "Shall I come at once? " She nodded, as tears stung her eyes, momentarily unable to answer, and when she spoke again, he could hear that she was crying. "I'm terribly sorry . . . I need your help . . . Victoria has done something terribly foolish. " All he could think of was that she had eloped. She couldn't be injured, or her sister would be calling a doctor and not an attorney. It was impossible to imagine what had happened. But he took a cab straight to her front door and was there less than fifteen minutes later. Petrie let him in, and Olivia was waiting for him, pacing in the downstairs salon. Bertie was occupied elsewhere in the house, and fortunately hadn't heard him. And the moment he walked in, she saw those eyes again, the eyes that had so mesmerized her the first time she met him. "Thank you for coming so quickly, " she said, and it was easy to see how distraught she was, as she picked up her hat and put it on quickly, and grabbed her handbag. "We must leave immediately. " "But what's happened? Where is your sister, Miss Henderson? Has she run away? " He was baffled by the mysteries surrounding them, and anxious to do what he could, but he had no idea what she wanted of him. For an instant, Olivia stood to her full height and looked up at him, her eyes filled with embarrassment and terror. She was a capable girl, but this was by far the most shocking experience of her sister's career, and she was beside herself over not wanting anyone else to know it. Surely they wouldn't understand how spirited she was, or how innocent some of her pranks were. And this was one instance where Olivia's trading places with her would solve nothing. For the first time in her life, she felt entirely helpless. "She's at the Fifth Precinct, Mr. Dawson, " Olivia said in a Low grief-stricken tone. "They just called me. They are holding her there, and they won't arrest her, if we come quickly. " Unless of course Victoria talked them into it, and they arrested her before she and Charles could get there. "Good heavens. " He actually did look surprised this time, as he followed her out the front door, and down the front steps, and then hurried to hail a taxi. He helped Olivia into it, in her quiet gray work dress that she'd been wearing since that morning. She'd put on a very fashionable black hat with it, and realized that Victoria had worn the identical hat when she'd left that morning. Even when they didn't plan to wear the same things, they almost always did, just as she had done now. But she wasn't thinking about their hats, as she tried to explain to Charles Dawson what she thought must have happened. "She's totally enamored with this stupid National American Women's Suffrage Association, and the people who run it. " She told him all their names, explained about the demonstration in Washington five months before, and the arrests of the Pankhursts in England. "These people glorify arrests like some sort of an award, it's a medal of honor, and I suppose that Victoria went somewhere that they were having a demonstration this afternoon and got picked up with them. The sergeant who called said he had no intention of arresting her, but he said that Victoria wanted him to arrest her. " Charles Dawson tried to repress a smile as he looked at her, and suddenly Olivia found herself smiling too. Listening to herself explain it to him made it sound utterly ridiculous, and Victoria even more so. "She's quite a girl, this sister of yours. Does she always do things like this while you're keeping house for your father? " She had explained to him that she had been busy and wasn't paying attention to where Victoria had gone that day. She really took her role as older sister seriously, although there were barely more than ten minutes' difference between them. "She stole one of my father's cars to go to one of these meetings the day you came to see us in Croton. " She was suddenly laughing with him, although she still felt desperately worried. "Well, at least she's not dull, " he said calmly. "Think of the children she'll have. It makes one quake, doesn't it? " He was laughing again, but they both looked serious as they reached the Fifth Precinct. It was in a dismal neighborhood, with poor people in rags loitering in doorways, and terrible refuse in the streets all around them. And as Olivia got out of the cab with Charles, she saw a rat scurry across the street into the gutter. She drew instinctively closer to him, and as they walked into the police station, there were drunks, and two petty thieves who had just been brought in, in handcuffs, and three prostitutes were screaming at the desk sergeant from a holding cell, as Charles glanced at Olivia to see if she was ready to faint at their surroundings. But she looked quite stern, and seemed relatively unmoved by the comments of the drunks or the prostitutes, as she pretended to ignore them. "Are you all right? " he asked in an undervoice, tucking her hand into his arm as she stood very straight beside him. He had to admire her for her good sportsmanship, and the poise with which she was enduring the abuse of the hookers who were shouting at her in envy. "I'm fine, " she whispered back to Charles, barely raising her eyes to his, "but when we get her out of here, I'm going to kill her. " He had to repress a smile as he turned his attention to the desk sergeant then, and the sergeant led them both into a locked room where Victoria was sitting in a single chair, drinking a cup of tea, as a matron watched her. Victoria was looking irritated, and she put the cup down, and stood up when Charles and Olivia entered the room, but she did not look happy to see them. "It's your fault, isn't it? " Victoria asked her without even acknowledging Charles Dawson. And for him, it was eerie seeing them, so totally identical, from their faces to their eyes, even to their hats, although Victoria's had shifted imperceptibly and she seemed to be wearing it at a rahsh angle. Charles was watching both of them, mesmerized, and he sensed instantly the electricity between them. "What is my fault? " Olivia asked, clearly furious at her sister. "It's your fault they wouldn't arrest me. " Victoria looked equally angry. "You're deranged, Victoria Henderson, " Olivia accused. "You deserve to be locked up, but not here. You belong in Bedlam. Do you realize the scandal it would make if you got arrested? Do you have any idea of the embarrassment you'd cause Father over this? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself, Victoria? Or is that just not on our agenda? " The sergeant and the matron exchanged a smile. There was very little they could add to all that, and Charles arranged quietly with them to simply remove her. No real harm had been done, she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they were entirely willing to ignore it. The sergeant suggested they keep an eye on her in the future, and he asked Charles if the two girls were his younger sisters. He was surprised by the idea, and flattered, now that he thought of it, that Olivia had called him. And she'd been right to do so, coming down here on her own would have been terrifying for her, and dangerous as well. He still had the cab waiting outside, and as the two sisters argued in the small room, he finally interrupted them and suggested they continue their conversation in the taxi. Olivia was absolutely fuming. For an instant, he thought that Victoria might refuse to leave, but there was nothing for her to do here. The police didn't want her there, and the excitement was over. But Olivia was still berating her as they left and got back in the cab, and Charles very quietly handed them both into the taxi, and then got in between them. "Ladies, may I suggest we call it a day, and agree to forget this unfortunate incident. Nothing untoward happened here, and no one ever need be the wiser. " He turned to Olivia then and suggested she forgive her sister for her foolishness, and then he turned to Victoria and asked her to stay away from demonstrations for the rest of her stay. Or if not, they might truly arrest her. "That might have been a little more honest, don't you think? Than to pull class on them, and come running home to Daddy. " She was still annoyed at having been "saved" by her sister and their father's lawyer. And she thought Charles was a complete fool to have come with her. She wanted to tell him to mind his own business in the future. "Do you have any idea what it would do to Father if he knew? " Olivia asked her bluntly. Why don't you think of him for a change instead of your stupid groups, and women getting the vote? Why don't you behave for once, instead of expecting me to get you out of it? " Olivia's hands were shaking as she carefully put her gloves on, and Charles watched them both with fascination. The one so restrained and so capable, the other so fiery and so totally without remorse. In some ways, Victoria reminded him of his late wife, Susan, always espousing unusual ideas and difficult causes. And yet there had been a tamer side to her as well, a docile side that he longed for on quiet nights as he lay alone, trying not to think of her. He had to think of Geoffrey now, and not the boy's mother. But try as he might, he could never bring himself to forget her, and in his heart of hearts, he knew he didn't really want to. But this wild, foolish girl, in the black straw hat, with the smoldering blue eyes, intrigued him, far more than her obviously tamer sister. "I'd like to point out to you, " Victoria said coldly as the cab pulled up in front of their house, "that I didn't call either of you, and I didn't ask to be rescued. " She was being childish, and Charles couldn't help smiling as he looked at her. She was like a naughty girl who needed to be sent to her room, or scolded until she paid attention. But she was certainly not contrite or grateful that they had come to get her. "Perhaps we should send you back then, " Charles said, and Victoria glared at him as she got out of the cab, and let herself into the house ahead of her sister. She had her back to both of them as she took her hat off and threw it on the table. "Thank you, " Olivia said in embarrassment to Charles, furious at her sister. "I wouldn't have known what to do without you. " "Anytime, " he smiled, and Olivia rolled her eyes at the thought. "I hope not. " "Try and keep her on a leash until your father arrives, " Charles said in a whisper. She was clearly an unrepentant rebel, and there was a certain charm to that, if one viewed it from a safe distance. "Thank God Father will be here by tomorrow night, " Olivia said, and then looked at Charles with worried eyes. She had trusted him and hoped he wouldn't betray her. "Please don't say anything to him, it would upset him terribly. " "I promise. Not a word. " But now that it was over, what he had just done amused him. "One day you'll laugh about this, I promise, when you're both grandmothers, and remember how she almost got arrested. " Olivia smiled at what he was saying, and Victoria muttered a curt thank-you at him, and then swept upstairs to change for dinner. They were only having dinner with Mrs. Peabody that night, but Olivia asked Charles if he would like to join them. It seemed the least she could do after the last two hours he'd spent, rescuing Victoria, in spite of herself, from the Fifth Precinct. "I can't, but thank you very much. " He looked embarrassed at the invitation. "I try to dine with my son every night, or as much as possible at least. " "How old is he? " Olivia asked with interest. "He's nine. " That made him eight when his mother died . . . when he had seen her for the last time, before he left her on the Titanic. The thought of it almost made her shudder. "I hope we meet him sometime, " she said genuinely, and Charles looked hesitant and thankful. "He's a good boy. " And then, he surprised her with his honesty. But there was something about Olivia that made her easy to talk to, unlike her sister, who made him want to spank her. "We've both had a hard time without his mother, " he said quietly. "I can imagine. " And then, "I never knew mine, " she said softly. "But Victoria and I had each other. " Her eyes seemed huge as they looked into his, and something about her made his heart ache. "It must be extraordinary, " he said thoughtfully. "I can't imagine having anyone that you're that close to. Except maybe a husband or a wife, but even then. You two almost seem like two halves of the same person. " "Sometimes I think we are, " and then she looked toward the second floor, glowering expressively, "and at other times, I think we're strangers. We're very different in some ways, and completely alike in others. " In looks certainly, despite their very different personalities, he still could not actually see a difference between them. "Does it bother you that people confuse you all the time? I suppose that could be very annoying. " He was fascinated by them, and he liked being able to ask Olivia these questions. "You get used to it. We used to think it was funny. Now, it's just the way things are. " It was so easy talking to him, and he seemed comfortable speaking to Olivia as well. She was the sort of woman he could be friends with. And yet it was Victoria he was mesmerized by, and tongue-tied with. He couldn't tell them apart, and yet some deep, inner part of him sensed when he was in Victoria's presence, and something about her turned him topsy-turvy. But Olivia with her gentle ways made him feel comfortable, and at ease, like a dear friend or an affectionate younger sister. He left a few minutes after that, and she closed the door quietly behind him, and walked slowly upstairs to talk to her sister. Victoria was sitting in her room, staring unhappily out the window, thinking of the afternoon, and how foolish she had felt when the sergeant had separated her from the others. "How am I going to show my face to them again? " she asked unhappily as Olivia watched her. "You shouldn't have been with them in the first place. " Olivia sighed, and sat down on the bed, facing her sister. "You can't keep doing things like this, Victoria. You can't go off chasing some wild idea, without thinking of the consequences. People can get hurt by it, you can get hurt by it. I don't want that to happen. " Victoria looked slowly at her, and the light that Charles saw in her eyes burned very brightly. "What if more people are helped than hurt? What if one had to die for an idea, a cause, in order to make the right things happen? You know, I know it must sound crazy to you, but sometimes I think I'd be willing to do that. " The worst of it was that Olivia knew in her heart of hearts that Victoria was being truthful. She had that kind of fire in her, that bright, burning thing at her core that would allow her to die for an ideal, or follow what she believed in all the way to the horizon. "You frighten me when you say things like that, " Olivia said quietly, and Victoria reached out and took her hand and held it. "I don't mean to. I think that's just who I am. I'm not you, Ollie. Even though we look so much alike, how could we be so different "Different and the same, " Olivia said, puzzling over the mystery that had followed them since they were born, so much the same in so many ways, so totally different in others. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. I didn't mean to scare you. " Contrite at last, not because of what she'd done, but because she had upset her sister. Victoria loved Olivia too much to hurt her. "I knew something was wrong. I felt it here. " She touched her stomach, and Victoria nodded. They were both familiar with that sensation. "What time? " Victoria asked with interest. The telepathy between them had always intrigued her. "Two o'clock, " Olivia said, and Victoria nodded. They were both used to the phenomenon which always seemed to tell each of them when the other was in trouble. "Just about right. I think that's when they picked us up, and tossed us in the wagon. " "That must have been charming, " Olivia said, looking disapproving again, but Victoria laughed, looking highly amused about it. "Actually, I thought it was pretty funny. They were so determined to get everyone in, and no one wanted to be left out. They all wanted to be arrested. " Victoria laughed more, and Olivia groaned, remembering the phone call from Sergeant O"Shaunessy at the Fifth Precinct. "I'm glad they didn't arrest you, " Olivia said firmly. "Why did you call him? " Victoria asked her then, combing her eyes with her own, looking for unspoken answers. There were a myriad of things that always went unsaid, but were clearly understood, between them. "I didn't know who else to call. And I didn't want to take Donovan or Petrie. I was afraid to come alone, and they told me not to when they called me. " "You could have though. You didn't need him. He's so insignificant. " Victoria brushed Charles Dawson aside with a wave of her hand. To her, he was entirely unimportant. She didn't see any of the merit in him that Olivia did. Nor any of the interest. "He's not insignificant, " Olivia defended him. He was subdued, one could see easily that his fire had been dimmed, but he had been dealt a cruel blow by one of life's swift hands, and Olivia felt desperately sorry for him. It didn't make her pity him, but she liked him. She could see the merit in the man, the man he might have been before, and could be again, with a little kindness, and perhaps even the right woman. "He's wounded, " Olivia explained. "Spare me. " Victoria grinned, easily unkind, and quick to dispense with the impaired or injured. "That's not fair. He came here in ten minutes today in order to help you. " "Our father is probably one of his biggest clients. " "That's a disgusting thing to say. He could have told me he was busy. " "Perhaps he likes you, " Victoria said mischievously, but without much interest. "Or you, " Olivia said fairly. "Maybe he still can't tell the difference, " Victoria said truthfully. "That doesn't make him a bad person. Father can't always tell the difference between us either. Bertie is the only one who ever could. " "Maybe she's the only one who ever cared enough to, " Victoria said cruelly. "Why are you so unkind sometimes? " Olivia said unhappily. She hated it when her sister said things like that. Sometimes she could be so unfeeling. "Maybe that's just the way I am. " Victoria looked matter-of fact, but not remorseful. "I'm hard on myself too. I expect a lot of everyone, Ollie. I expect to do more with my life than just sit here, and go to parties and balls and the theater. " She sounded suddenly very grown-up and Olivia was surprised by what she was saying. "I thought you wanted to come to New York. You're the one who always complains about being stuck in boring old Croton-on hudson. " "I know I do, and I love being here, but it's not jus t the social life I want. I want something important to happen in my life too. I want to make a difference in the world. I want to stand for some thing more than just being Edward Henderson's daughter. " She looked so intense and alive as she said it. "It sounds so noble when you talk about it that way. " Olivia smiled at her twin. Victoria had such grandiose ideas sometimes, and yet Olivia knew she really meant them. But still, she was a child in a way, and sometimes a very spoiled one. She wanted everything, people and fun and parties and New York, and there was a serious side to her too, that wanted to fight all the battles, right all the injustices, and make a difference in the world. She didn't know exactly what she wanted yet, but Olivia sensed sometimes that Victoria would do a lot more with her life than just live in Croton. "What about being someone's wife? " Olivia asked her quietly, it was something she thought about once in a while, although she couldn't really imagine ever leaving her father. He needed her too badly. "That's not what I want, " Victoria said firmly. "I don't want to belong to anyone, like a table or a chair, or a motorcar. This is my wife, it's like saying this is my hat, or my overcoat, or my dog. I don't want to belong' to anyone, like an object. " "You've been spending too much time with those ridiculous suffragettes, " Olivia growled at her. She disagreed with almost everything they said, except maybe about voting. But all their ideas about freedom and independence seemed to be at the expense of values that Olivia cherished more, like family and children, and being respectful of one's father or husband. She didn't believe in the kind of anarchy they were preaching, although Victoria said she did, but Olivia sometimes wondered. Victoria liked smoking and stealing her father's car, and going places by herself, and even risking arrest to stand up for something she believed in, but she loved their father as dearly as anyone, and Olivia had the feeling that if the right man came along, Victoria would fall for him as hard as any other woman would, possibly harder. She was filled with fire, and beliefs that she was almost willing to die for, and a kind of unbridled passion. How could she say she never wanted to "belong" to anyone, or be a man's wife? It just wasn't like her. "I'm serious, " Victoria said quietly. "I made up my mind a long time ago. I don't want to get married. " She looked incredibly beautiful as she said it, and Olivia smiled, thinking that she didn't believe her. "When was a long time ago'? At the suffragettes' meeting you went to today, or the one last week? I don't think you know what you're saying. " "Yes, I do. I'm never going to get married. " She said it calmly and firmly, with total conviction. "Actually, I don't think marriage would suit me. " "How can you possibly know that? Are you telling me that you're going to stay at home with Father and take care of him? " The idea of it was sounding more ridiculous by the moment. Olivia might stay home and take care of him in his last years, but not Victoria. They both knew she didn't have it in her. Or at least Olivia knew it, she wondered if Victoria hadn't figured that out yet. Could she really believe that she would be happy at home with him in Croton? Not likely. "I didn't say that. But maybe I'll go to live in Europe one day, when we're older. Actually, I think I'd like living in England. " The cause of women's freedom was a lot more developed there, though it was not any better received than in New York, or elsewhere in the United States. In the past few months alone, at least half a dozen major suffragettes had been arrested and sent to prison in England. But Olivia was surprised by the things Victoria had said, particularly about never getting married, and living in Europe. It all sounded so foreign, and so strange, to Olivia, and it reminded her again of how different they were. In spite of the similar instincts they sometimes shared, and their apparent similarities, there were some enormous differences between them. "Maybe you should marry Charles Dawson, " Victoria was teasing her by then, as they both began dressing for dinner with Bertie. "Since you think he's so sweet. Maybe you'd like being married to him, " Victoria said, as she did up the slide fastener on the back of Olivia's dress, and then turned around to have hers done in turn. It was a new invention that had just come into fashion that year, and it was incredibly easy, and a vast improvement over rows of tiny buttons that tangled one's fingers. "Don't be stupid, " Olivia said of her sister's comment about Charles Dawson. "I've only met him twice in my life, " Olivia said quietly. "But you like him. Don't lie to me. I can see it. " "All right, so I like him. So what? He's intelligent and pleasant to talk to, and terribly useful when my sister winds up in jail. Maybe I will have to marry him if you make a habit of becoming a jailbird. Either that, or go to law school myself. " "Now, that would be much better, " Victoria said firmly. The two sisters had made their peace with each other again by the time they were dressed, and Olivia had almost forgiven her for the exotic end to the afternoon, but she had forced Victoria to swear that she would stay away from demonstrations for the rest of their stay in New York. She didn't want to spend her time there getting Victoria out of trouble. Victoria promised reluctantly, and lit a cigarette in their bathroom while Olivia combed her hair and complained about how unattractive it looked for a lady to smoke cigarettes, but Victoria only laughed at her and told her she sounded like Bertie. "If she ever knew you smoked, she'd kill you! " Olivia waved her hairbrush at her twin to emphasize her point, as Victoria laughed, looking terribly racy as she sat with her long legs crossed on the edge of their huge tub, in one of the dresses Olivia had just bought them. It was bright red and a little shorter than some of the dresses they wore, in fact it was extremely fashionable and suited them both to perfection. "I like it by the way, " Victoria complimented her as they walked downstairs to the dining room with their arms around each other. "I like all the dresses you pick for us. Maybe I'll just live with you for the rest of my life, and forget about Europe. " "I wouldn't mind that, " Olivia said softly, feeling sad at the thought of a time when they might not be together. She had never let herself think of marriage because she couldn't bear the thought of leaving either of them, her father, or her twin sister. It would have been like leaving part of herself behind, and she felt at times that there would have been nothing left of her without them. "I can't imagine ever leaving you, " Olivia said as she looked at the familiar face she had seen all her life, so totally identical to her own that it was like looking in the mirror. Each detail that the one had, the other had on the opposite side, so that it really was like looking in the mirror. "I couldn't leave you, " Olivia said, looking at Victoria, who smiled and kissed her cheek gently. "You won't ever have to, Ollie. I don't suppose I could bear to go anywhere without you. I'm all talk, " she said, sensing that she had upset Olivia with her talk of Europe. "I'll just stay home with you and get arrested whenever I need a breather. " "You dare! " Olivia wagged a finger at her again, as Bertie joined them in the dining room in a black silk suit Olivia had had copied for her from a magazine from Paris. It looked surprisingly well on her, and she wore it whenever she had dinner with the family, which she considered an honor. "And where were you all afternoon, Victoria? " Bertie asked as they took their seats, and both girls averted their gazes as they opened their napkins. "At the museum actually. There was a splendid exhibit of Turners from the National Gallery in London. " "Really? " Bertie said, opening her wise old eyes wide, pretending to believe her. "I'll have to be sure and see it while we're here. " "You'll love it, " Victoria said, smiling brightly, as Olivia looked up at the ceiling of the house her parents had once lived in. She wondered what it had been like when their mother was there, what she had been like, and who truly resembled her more spiritually, herself or her sister. It was a question they often pondered, but they both knew their father preferred not to discuss it. Even after all these years, it was still too painful for him. "It'll be nice to see your father tomorrow, won't it, girls? " Bertie asked pleasantly as the meal drew to a close, and the kitchen girl served them coffee. "Yes, it will, " Olivia said, thinking of him, and the flowers she wanted to put in his bedroom, as Victoria wondered if Olivia would really kill her if she squeezed in just one more demonstration. She had heard about one that afternoon, on the way to jail, and she had promised to be there. But as she thought of it, Olivia glanced over at her and shook her head, as though she knew what she was thinking. They did that to each other sometimes, they never knew how it happened, but it did. It was almost as though they could hear each other's thoughts before the other said them. "Don't you dare, " Olivia whispered to her behind Bertie's back, as they left the table. "I have no idea what you're talking about, " Victoria said primly. "Next time I'll leave you there, mark my words, and let you explain it to Father. " "I doubt that, " Victoria said with a laugh as she tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder. There was almost nothing she was afraid of. Even being in jail that afternoon had made no impression on her whatsoever. She had found it inte resting, but not daunting. "You're incorrigible, " Olivia said, and then they kissed Bertie good night and went upstairs to their bedroom. Olivia looked at fashion magazines while Victoria read a pamphlet by Emmeline Pankhurst about hunger strikes in prison. She was, according to Victoria, the most important suffragist in England. Victoria dared to light a cigarette in their room, knowing that Bertie had already gone to bed, and she urged Olivia to try one, but she wouldn't. Instead, Olivia sat looking out the window, at the warm September night, and despite everything else she had tried to think of that night, her mind wandered back to Charles Dawson. "Don't, " Victoria said to her, as she lay on her bed and watched her sister. "Don't what? " Olivia asked, as she turned to look at Victoria reclining elegantly and smoking. "Don't think about him, " Victoria said quietly, blowing a long, slow cloud of smoke toward the window. "what do you mean? " Olivia looked startled. It was always eerie when either of them guessed what the other was thinking. "You know exactly what I mean. Charles Dawson. You had that same look in your eyes when you talked to him. He's too boring for you. There are going to be lots of wonderful men here. I can feel it. " She looked very worldly as she said it, but Olivia still looked startled. "How do you know what I'm thinking? " It happened to them so often. "The same way you do. I hear you in my head sometimes, like my own voice, thinking. Sometimes I can just see it when I look at you. " "It scares me sometimes, " Olivia said honestly. "We're so close I don't know where you end, and I begin, or do we? Do we just blend into one sometimes? " "Sometimes, " Victoria smiled at her, "but not always. I like knowing what you think . . . and I like being able to surprise people, and change places, like we used to. Sometimes I miss it. We should do it again sometime, while we're here. Nobody would ever know the difference. And it would be great fun, wouldn't it? " "It seems different to me now that we're older. It seems deceitful, " Olivia said, looking thoughtful. "Don't be so moralistic, Ollie. It's harmless. It doesn't hurt anyone. I'm sure all twins do it. " But they had only met twins once or twice in their lives, and never of comparable ages or sexes, nor quite as identical as they were. "Let's do it soon, " Victoria prodded her, always willing to cross the line and be daring, just as she had been in their childhood. But this time, when Olivia looked at her, she only smiled, and didn't answer, and Victoria knew she wouldn't do it. They were grown-up now. And Olivia thought switching was childish. "You'll turn into a dreary old crone if you're not careful, " Victoria warned, and Olivia laughed at her with genuine amusement. "At least if I do, maybe by then you'll have learned to behave yourself. " The two sisters exchanged a warm look, and Victoria chuckled. "Don't count on that, big sister. I'm not sure I ever will behave myself. " "Neither am I, " Olivia whispered, and then left the room to get ready for bed, as Victoria looked longingly out the window. Chapter 3. Their father arrived, on schedule, late Friday afternoon, from Croton-on-Hudson. Donovan had driven up to pick him up in the Cadillac, and Olivia had the house in perfect order for him. Everything was exactly as it should have been, everything had been dusted and shined and fluffed, and his bedroom was exactly the way he liked it. Olivia had flowers everywhere, and it smelled exquisite. Even the garden had been cleaned up for him so he could use it, although it was just a small patch of green after what he was used to in Croton. But when he arrived, he was extremely pleased with what he saw, and he had high praise for Bertie and both his daughters. He always included Victoria to be kind to her, although he knew that it was Olivia who ran his household. He was happy to see them both and looked lovingly at both of them. And then he kissed Victoria, and thanked her for Olivia's hard work, which made them both giggle and he understood immediately what had happened. "I'm going to have Bertie make you wear colored ribbons in your hair again, except that you'll probably do what you did then, and switch them. " "We haven't switched in ages, Father, " Victoria said plaintively, and Olivia looked pointedly at her. "That's right, and who was trying to talk me into it just last night? " Olivia said, as Victoria pretended not to remember. "She won't do it anymore, Papa. She's no fun anymore, " Victoria complained and he laughed ruefully at her. "You two will make everyone miserable enough just by confusing them completely, without switching. " He still shuddered when he thought of their presentation year two years before, they had both been so striking in their finery, that he hadn't been able to go anywhere with them without stopping traffic. In his opinion, it had truly been excessive. And he was hoping that this time people would be a little less excited each time they saw them. It remained to be seen. They were going out the next night to the theater. On the night of his arrival, Olivia had planned one of his favorite dinners, with venison and asparagus and wild rice, and some clams that had been brought to them that morning from Long Island. There were vegetables from their garden in Croton that Donovan had brought down with them at her request, and a chocolate cake that her father swore would kill him, but of course he ate it. And after dinner, the three of them had coffee, while he talked about some of the treats he had planned for them, including the theater the following night, and several times in the ensuing weeks. There were people he wanted them to meet, two new restaurants he hoped to try with them, and he told Olivia that night that he wanted to give a party. It had been years since he'd entertained in New York, and he thought it might be interesting for them, particularly now with everyone home from New England and Long Island from the summer. This was the opening of the season. And it sounded intriguing to both of them as they listened. "In fact, " he said, smiling at both of them, and looking better than he had in years, "we've already been invited to a ball at the Astors', and the Whitneys are giving a huge party two weeks from now. I'm afraid you ladies will have to do some shopping. " It all sounded exciting to both of them, but Olivia was even more excited about their party. Her father had said that he wanted to invite about fifty people. Just big enough to be lively, and small enough to get to talk to almost everyone at the dinner. He promised to give Olivia the guest list the next day. He had already written down all the names, and she and Bertie would have to get busy. He knew only too well that Victoria would be no help to them. And the next morning, Olivia was already at her desk, poring over the names, and writing out invitations. The party was to be in two weeks, the same week as the ball at the Astors'. They were going to be very busy. Olivia was also pleased to realize that she recognized many of the names from two years before, although she couldn't always add faces. But she remembered meeting them, and thought it would be fun seeing them again, particularly here at the house. She loved entertaining for her father. She had already put together several menus in her head, and early that morning she'd been examining their linens. She was going to have to have more of them brought down from Croton. The crystal and the china were adequate here, and she knew exactly what she wanted in the way of flowers, and she hoped she could still get them by late September. Olivia stayed at her desk most of that afternoon, working on her plans, and Victoria went out for a drive with their father. They drove uptown in the Cadillac, and eventually took a slow walk down Fifth Avenue, where Edward ran into several people he knew and was proud to introduce his daughter. They were both in high spirits when they got home, and so was Olivia. She had organized the entire party. And that night, when they went to see The Seven Keys to Baldpate with Wallace Eddinger at the Astor Theater, their father seemed to know everyone in the theater. And as usual, when they were introduced, they created quite a stir. The girls were wearing matching black velvet evening suits with little ermine wraps and collars, and each of them wore a single long black beaded feather in her hair. Together, they were like a double vision straight out of a fashion magazine from Paris, and by the next morning, they were once again in the papers. But this time, Edward was calmer about it than he had been two years before, and the girls were less excited by it. They were two years older, and they were somewhat used to causing a sensation in public. "That was wonderful, " Victoria said, talking about the theater the night before. She had liked the play and had been so engrossed by it she scarcely noticed the attention being lavished on them by the people around them. "It's a lot better than getting arrested, " Olivia whispered to her with a grin, as she went to get their father another cup of coffee. They went to church together later that morning, at St. Thomas, and everyone greeted them, and then the three of them got in the car behind Donovan, and came back to the house on Fifth Avenue to spend a quiet Sunday together. And the next morning, Olivia had work to do, running the house and ordering things for their party, and her father left to meet his attorneys, which was, after all, why they had come here. Both John Watson and Charles Dawson came back to the house with him later that afternoon, and Olivia had a little moment of terror when sh e first saw them come in. She was afraid Charles might slip and say something to her about the day he had taken her to the Fifth Precinct. But in fact, he said nothing at all to her. He nodded politely to her as they arrived, and said good-bye to her when they left, and showed no particular recognition, which was a great relief to her, although Victoria said she wouldn't have cared, when Olivia told her. "Father would go right through the roof, " Olivia warned her, bringing her back to earth rapidly, "and you know it. You'd be on the next train back to Croton. " "Maybe you're right. " Victoria grinned at her. She was enjoying New York too much to take that chance again. She wanted to go to meetings of the National American Women's Suffrage Association, but she had promised to stay well away from all their demonstrations. They went to the theater again that night, and to dinner with friends of her father's later that week, and Victoria had been amused to listen to them talking about some utterly scandalous man named Tobi Whitticomb, who had apparently made a vast fortune in somewhat speculative banking, and an even larger one by marrying an Astor. He was supposedly a very good-looking young man and had quite a reputation with the ladies. Every one in town was said to be talking about him after some recent, scandalous liaison which no one would explain in any detail to either Victoria or her sister. And then their father shocked everyone by saying that he had recently done business with him, and found him both civilized and pleasant. In fact, they had concluded some very profitable dealings, and he had found him to be nothing but honest and very decent. After that, everyone argued with him, and there was a great outcry and exchange of stories about Whitticomb, and the assembled company had to admit that in spite of his reputation, he was invited to all the best homes and parties. But that, they said, was because he was married to Evangeline Astor. And everyone in the group agreed that she was a sweet girl, and an absolute angel to put up with Toby. But she'd apparently been putting up with him for a while, since they'd been married for five years, and had three children. And it was only on the way home that night that Olivia remembered the Whitticombs were invited to her father's party. "Is he really as bad as they say? " Olivia asked with curiosity as they rode home in the comfortable Cadillac at the end of the evening. Victoria wasn't paying any attention to them, she had had a nice time talking to some woman about politics, and she had seemed to have a great deal to say on the subject. But Edward Henderson smiled at the elder of the twins and shrugged in answer to her question. "One has to be careful of men like Tobias Whitticomb, my dear, he's very handsome and very young, and probably very appealing to most women. But in all fairness to him, I gather that most of his conquests are among married women, and they ought to be wise enough to know better. And if not, then more pity to them. I don't think he goes around ravishing young girls, or I wouldn't have had you invite him to our dinner. " "Who's this? " Victoria asked vaguely, as she turned her attention to their conversation. They were almost home by then, and she wasn't particularly intrigued, as she hadn't heard the earlier conversation. "Apparently, Father has invited some terrible libertine to our party, and our hostess tonight was warning us about him. " "Does he murder women and young children? " Victoria asked, almost without interest. "Apparently just the opposite, " Olivia explained to her. "He's supposed to be very charming, and women drop at his feet, like little dogs, waiting for him to love them. " "How disgusting, " Victoria said with unreserved disapproval, as Olivia and their father laughed at her reaction. "Why are we inviting him? " "He has a charming wife as well. " "And does she wait for men to drop at her feet too? They could create quite a problem at the party, with everyone dropping on the floor around them all evening. " They were at the house by then, and the three of them went in, tired, and well pleased with their evening. And the subject of Tobias Whitticomb was quickly forgotten. But in spite of having invited the dubious Whitticombs, who had actually accepted by then, they were all looking forward to their party. Almost everyone they had asked had accepted, and there were going to be forty-six guests at four round tables in their dining room, and dancing in their drawing room afterwards, and even a rather elaborate tent over the garden so people could stroll there. Olivia had gone to a great deal of trouble on behalf of her father. It seemed only moments before the big day arrived, and for two days, Olivia did nothing but check flowers and linens and china. She tasted food, and watched them set up the tent over the garden. There were ice sculptures set up in the dining room, and the orchestra arrived and she put them in the drawing room. The preparations seemed to go on forever. Mrs. Peabody did what she could, but even she seemed slightly overwhelmed, and of course Victoria could never be found in time to make herself useful. In the past weeks, she had begun to gather a circle of friends, most of them fairly intellectual, one or two of them writers, and several of them artists, all living in odd places. She had begun visiting them at their studios, and she found that they shared many of the same political views. She was making far more friends than Olivia, who always seemed to be busy taking care of either the house or their father. Victoria had always told her that she needed to get out more than she did, and Olivia promised she would, as soon as she finished organizing the party. After that, she would be free to do whatever she wanted. In fact, they were going to the Astors' ball the next day, and she could hardly wait to enjoy someone else's evening. But tonight was her big moment as a hostess. This was the first New York party she'd ever given. And she was actually trembling with excitement when she and Victoria came downstairs in the dark green satin gowns she'd had made by their seamstress in Croton. They had bustles in the back and small trains and the low-cut bodices were encrusted with jet beads. Their hair was piled high on their heads, and they were wearing high-heeled black velvet slippers. And they each wore the long strand of pearls they had gotten from their father when they turned eighteen, and identical diamond earrings. They were like a vision of symmetry, a perfect duet, and even the way they moved seemed in complete unison, as Olivia checked everything one last time, and Victoria followed her around the room looking happy and excited. The band had just begun to play, and the house looked extraordinary, almost completely lit with candles. All of the chandeliers had been lit, there were fragrant flowers everywhere, and the twins themselves looked incredible as they stood in the candlelit drawing room, next to their very handsome father. He took a step back for a moment, looking at them, and it was impossible not to be struck by how beautiful they were, how graceful, and how poised. One of them would have been dazzling, but two left one staring at them in mesmerized disbelief, which was exactly what happened when the guests began to arrive and saw the twins standing beside their father. Prepared as people may have been, suddenly seeing them there took one's breath away, and the guests stared at them constantly, unable to remember which was which, and in some ways, seeing them more as a unit. Neither seemed whole without the other just behind her. They identified themselves quickly to their friends, and Edward introduced them to everyone, but most of the guests had no idea which twin was Olivia and which Victoria, and Charles Dawson didn't even try when he arrived. He simply greeted them both with a warm smile, and glanced with interest from one to the other. And it was only when he actually began speaking to them in the drawing room that he began to sense again which one was the wilder one, and in a lowered voice, he even dared to tease her about it. "This is a long way from the Fifth Precinct, isn't it? " he asked with a spark in his own eye, and Victoria looked at him with unabashed defiance, as she grinned at him, not even embarrassed lest anyone might hear her. "I told Olivia, you should have let them arrest me. I expected it. I was actually very disappointed when they didn't. " "I don't think your sister was, " Charles said quietly, admiring her. She was the most beautiful woman he had seen in years, and so was her sister. "I think she was very relieved we got you out of there as fast as we did. I frankly thought we'd have a harder time of it, " he said, sounding relieved himself. It had been an awkward moment. "We can always try it again, I'll call you myself next time, " she said, her voice a sensual hint of future naughtiness, and he wondered how Edward Henderson kept his sanity, with two daughters like this to worry about, except that Charles had understood that Olivia was far better behaved than her allegedly "younger" sister, and Edward had said as much to him. He had said that Olivia was his godsend. "Let me know if you ever need any help. I'll be there, " Charles said quietly, and then drifted away to speak to several other guests he knew, and of course, his associate John Dawson. They were under the tent covering the garden by then, admiring the ice sculptures when the last guests finally arrived, and Olivia was mingling with their guests freely. It was Victoria who was still standing near the door, when the Whitticombs arrived. She had no idea who they were, and had no recollection of t he earlier conversation about them. She noticed only a very pretty woman in a silver coat and dress, with a silver turban which exposed a lock or two of pale blonde hair. And she was wearing an extremely impressive diamond necklace. And the man at her side was even better looking than she was. He almost took Victoria's breath away as she looked at him, and a moment later his wife drifted away, to meet up with friends she had seen going to the tent, inexorably drawn toward the champagne and the music. She was a very pretty girl, but he seemed not even to notice her, as he stared at Victoria in the dark green and extremely fashionable dress, put together by nimble fingers in Croton, and slightly redesigned by her even more talented twin sister. "Hello there, I'm Tobias Whitticomb, " he said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing silver tray, and never taking his eyes off Victoria's spectacular figure. He looked into her eyes as he said his name, as though he expected her to know everything that it meant about his reputation. "And you are? " he prompted her, his eyes never leaving her face, wondering why he had never seen her before, and who she was. She was quite a rare beauty. "I'm Victoria Henderson, " she said modestly, suddenly embarrassed in the face of his obviously sophisticated manners. "Oh dear, " he said, clearly disappointed, "you're married to our host. What a lucky fellow. " He smiled at her woefully, it was his wife who had responded to the invitation, and Victoria was laughing at him, not remembering anything she had heard about him from her father or her sister. She hadn't been paying close attention to them, and their gossip about one of their future guests had seemed singularly unimportant. And now, all Victoria could see was his shiny black hair, the laughing dark eyes, and the handsome figure. He had a face like an actor, and everything about him said that he was full of fun and mischief. "I'm not married to the host, " she corrected Whitticomb, laughing at his mistake, and wondering if he meant it. "I'm his daughter. "Oh thank God. The evening has been saved. I couldn't have borne it if you'd been married to him, charming though he may be. In fact, we've done some rather pleasant business. " He said it very smoothly as they walked into the drawing room, and without even asking her, he swept her into his arms and began dancing. It was as though they were magnetically drawn to each other, and there was no way to resist it. He told her he had studied in Europe for several years, at Oxford actually, he had played polo there, and two years later, had gone all the way to South America to play polo in Argentina. He told her a fair amount about himself, and all of it was intriguing. He was fascinating, and danced exquisitely, he whirled her around the floor, making her laugh, and being irreverent about almost everyone in the room. Eventually they left the dance floor and he told her funny stories about everyone he could think of, everyone except Evangeline and their children. He never mentioned them, and by their second glass of champagne, he and Victoria were fast friends, and he was vastly amused when he lit a cigarette, and she took a long drag of it when no one was looking. "My, my, you're a racy one. What else do you do? Drink to excess, smoke cigars, stay up fascinatingly late? Are there other vices I should know about? Absinthe, perhaps? Some mysteries of the Orient? " He was constantly and totally playful, but beyond that he was handsome and sophisticated and standing dizzyingly close to her. She knew she had never met anyone else like him. After their last dance, she excused herself, and said she had to check on dinner.

But she promised to be right back. Then she did something she knew Olivia would be furious about, but she had to do it. In fact, she did it for her twin too, and was satisfied that she had assured the outcome of the rest of the evening. As Victoria crossed the room to return to Toby, she saw him looking extremely confused. Olivia was talking to him, and he was actually blushing. He had whispered something in her ear, about slipping into the garden for a cigarette, and he was holding her around the waist, as he had done to Victoria while they were dancing, but Olivia did not look pleased, and realized instantly what had happened. And with that, Victoria appeared, and Toby Whitticomb found himself facing both of them, feeling as though he had double vision. "Oh my God. " He looked almost ill as he stared at them. "Did I drink that much champagne? What's happening? " He stared at them in disbelief, never having realized that there were Henderson twins, and for once he was completely stunned into silence. "Did you behave very badly with my very proper older sister? " Victoria asked him with a wicked grin, as Olivia stared at both of them. She had no idea yet who he was, or how her sister knew him. "I'm afraid I did, " he said, trying to recover from the embarrassment of having grabbed Olivia around the waist, when he didn't know her, though he scarcely knew Victoria better, but she seemed far more open to advances like his, and far more forgiving. "I offered her a cigarette in the garden, I do hope she smokes too. Perhaps we could all go, although I'm afraid I need another drink now. " He gladly grabbed another glass of champagne, and took a long swig as he stared at both of them in continuing disbelief and amazement. "You know, you are absolutely extraordinary, both of you. I've never seen anything like it. " "It's a bit of a shock at first, " Olivia said graciously to him although she didn't like his manners, or his air of familiarity with her sister. "But one gets used to it. Or at least, people seem to. " "I'm terribly sorry if I was rude, " he said, sensing that she was not as easygoing as her sister. "You must be yet another Miss Henderson. I've outdone myself tonight, I thought your sister was Edward's wife, " he laughed at himself this time, and they all did, "and I'm Toby Whitticomb. " He held out a hand to her and Olivia immediately stopped laughing. She was extremely cool and prim when she shook his hand, and Victoria immediately saw her tightness. "I've heard a great deal about you, " she said, hoping to dampen his interest in her sister. "In my case, that's usually not a compliment, " he said, looking undisturbed by it, just as the butlers began announcing dinner. Olivia was greatly relieved by that, knowing that she had chosen a good seat for her twin, between two attractive, wellborn young men, far, far from Tobias. Her own seat was somewhat more dutiful, next to one of her father's oldest friends, and a young man who was excruciatingly shy, and painfully unattractive. But she had thought to do a good deed for him, and had sat herself next to him, and her father's old friend, who had an acute hearing problem. For Olivia, it was going to be a very long dinner. And she had given her father two of their most honored guests on either side of him. She wanted him to have a perfectly delightful evening. He hadn't entertained in New York in years, and it was as much a rebirth for him as for them, and she wanted it to be absolutely perfect. So far, the evening had been very good, the music was excellent, the food thus far had been tasty, and the champagne superb, chosen by her father. And as Olivia followed her guests slowly into the dining room, she kept an eye on them, seeing that people were finding their seats easily, and were comfortable where they sat. There were four large, ample, exquisitely set tables. The crystal and silver glimmered in the candlelight, almost as handsomely as the jewels on the ladies. And it was only when she saw Victoria sit down that Olivia realized what her sister had done. She gasped, fearing that she had wrought havoc with all her seating, but in fact, she had changed only her own seat with one other guest, to allow herself to sit next to Toby. Olivia signaled angrily to her, but Victoria was wiser than that, and wouldn't come. Olivia was furious at what Victoria had done to her seating. But a quick glance around the room showed her that other people were sitting where they were supposed to, with the exception of the rather plain woman who had been intended for Victoria's seat. Olivia had done that on purpose. And that woman was now sitting with the two attractive young men meant for her twin, and she seemed very happy about it. Resigned to her sister's outrageous behavior, but determined to deal with her for it later, the foolishness of letting herself be pursued by a married man, let alone one with his reputation, put Olivia in a dreadful humor as she went to her own seat, and then found someone else in it. And then she realized what other trick Victoria had played on her. She had improved Olivia's seat as well, and put her very kindly next to Charles Dawson. Olivia blushed as she realized it, and then quietly took her seat beside him. "What an honor, " he said politely, staring at her, obviously unsure which one she was, and he leaned close to her as he whispered, "Are you the jailbird or the rescuer? I'm ashamed to admit that I can't always tell the difference. " She laughed at his optimism. She couldn't imagine that he could "ever" tell the difference, let alone "always. " And he made her laugh just enough to free her somewhat from her earlier ill humor due to Victoria's appalling behavior. "Do you think you could ever tell us apart, Mr. Dawson? " she asked, teasing him. For an instant, she was tempted not to let him know which one she was, and see if he could guess it, but she felt too guilty to play with him for very long, and it really wasn't like her to do that. He stared long and hard at her, wanting to know for certain who sh e was, but unable to tell her, and it seemed too cruel to keep it from him, though Olivia let the game go on for a few minutes longer. "Your movements are even so incredibly similar. The looks in your eyes are different at times, but I'm still not sure which is which. One of you sometimes has something wild there, " he said carefully, having observed it both in Croton and the Fifth Precinct. "It's something in your eyes that will probably allow you to go to lengths you will regret . . . but then whichever one it is who is wild, the other sister will tame you. One of you has a quiet, peaceful soul, the other seems somewhat restless, " he said, looking at her with interest, already beginning to sense which one she was, and relieved to be sitting next to Olivia, and not her sister. Victoria unsettled his soul, and was much too full of unbridled passion for him to be comfortable near her. But Olivia was intrigued by what he said, and had to admit he had observed them well. "You have identified us correctly, sir, " she said, smiling softly at him, and he was almost sure now which one she was, though he didn't say it. "You're a very observant man, " Olivia said quietly, and he nodded. "I try to be. It's part of my profession, " he said simply. "And part of who you are as well, " she said, having observed him carefully too. "And will you tell me now who you are? " he asked, "or will you keep it a mystery all night? " He seemed willing to play if that was what she wanted. Victoria would have let him suffer, but Olivia couldn't. "I don't suppose that would be fair. I'm Olivia. " She smiled at him as she said it, and although she was still furious at her twin for her antics over the seating, and with Tobias Whitticomb for his behavior with her, she was suddenly grateful for her seat beside Charles Dawson. "You are the rescuer, the one with the quiet soul, " he said, and she felt somewhat less so than his description, though she certainly didn't look it. She was every bit as beautiful as her sister. "Are you truly both very different? It's hard to see at first, though I must admit I've noticed something unsatisfied in her, something searching. You seem much more at home in your own skin than she is. " "I don't know why that is. Perhaps because she thinks she killed our mother. " It was an odd confession to make to him, but he seemed to be someone one could talk to and trust, and she knew she hadn't misjudged him. He had already proven himself trustworthy by not divulging their secret, after helping to pick up Victoria at the Fifth Precinct. "Our mother died giving birth to us, and Victoria is the younger twin. It was her birth that seemed to do it, although one can't help but wonder what difference eleven minutes would make. I'm afraid we did it together. " She had felt the same guilt too, but not to the same degree that Victoria had suffered from it. "One can't see things that way. There's no way to know why something like that happens. You were both a great gift for her, it's a shame she could not live to enjoy it. I'm sure your father has derived great joy from both of you over the years. I think being or having twins would be wonderful. You're very lucky. " She knew that they had touched on the death of his wife as well with what he had just said, he must have questioned often in the past year and a half why she had died, and there could be no real answers. "Tell me about your son, " she said very gently. "Geoffrey? " He smiled at her. "He's nine years old, he is the light of my life, and I love him very much. We're alone, " he said, not sure if she knew that. "We lost his mother a little over a year ago . . on the Titanic. " He seemed to choke on the word, and she barely touched his hand unconsciously with her own, and he looked at her and nodded. "It was very difficult for a long time. I went back to Europe with Geoff to stay with her family. It was a terrible shock for all of us, especially Geoff. He was with her. " "How awful for him, " she said sincerely, deeply moved by the way he looked as he said it. "He has some terrible memories, understandably. But he's better now. " He smiled ruefully then, feeling as though he'd made a friend. She was surprisingly warm and easy to talk to. "Better than I am. I never go to evenings like this anymore, but John and your father insisted. " "That's not fair to you, is it? You can't keep to yourself forever. " "I suppose not, " he said gently, looking at her, and admiring her. It had been easier talking to her than to anyone in the past year and a half, and it surprised him. "You'll have to bring your son to visit. Children love coming to Croton. I loved it there when I was a child too. I was about his age when we moved there. " "And now? " He was curious about her, she seemed to have an unusual depth of understanding. "Do you still love living in Croton? " "I do. It's my sister who doesn't. She'd rather be here, or in demonstrations somewhere, or in England with the suffragists, starving in prison. " "That's what I said, " he smiled at her, "restless. " "Actually, " she laughed, "I owe her an unexpected debt tonight. I am not directly responsible for our seating. " "I thought you were the one who handled everything like this for your father. " Edward had raved about her, and her invaluable assistance in running all his households, and even putting together every detail of this party. "I do, but Victoria changed her seat tonight, and mine. She didn't like where she was sitting. " "Well, I'm very grateful to her. " He smiled at Olivia, clear on who she was now. "Perhaps you should let her do the seating more often. " He asked her to dance then, and they moved circumspectly around the drawing room, with his hand barely upon her. And as soon as the dance was over, he brought her right back to the table. It was hardly a sensual experience, but it was pleasant being with him. He was intelligent and nice to talk to, and it was easy to understand now why he kept his distance. She sensed from what he'd said and the way he behaved that he had obviously been very much in love with his wife, and had no intention of getting close to anyone else at the moment. Olivia understood that, but it didn't stop her from feeling attracted to him, or thinking that if life had been different for all of them, he would have been everything she wanted. But there was no chance to think of that now. She couldn't have left her father anyway, and didn't think she ever would. And Charles Dawson had no intention of opening his heart to anyone, not even for the sake of his little boy, Geoffrey. The ladies withdrew and went upstairs briefly at the end of the meal, and it was then that Olivia spoke to Victoria again and warned her not to continue pursuing Toby. "I'm doing no such thing. " Victoria looked highly annoyed by her sister's warnings about him. He was charming, intelligent, danced brilliantly, and was even more outrageous than Victoria had ever dreamed of being, and she saw no harm whatsoever in a little mild flirtation. What she didn't understand was that with Toby there was no such thing. And he always got what he wanted. "I absolutely forbid you to spend the rest of the evening with him, " Olivia said to her in an undervoice, just as his wife happened to walk by. But Victoria was not going to give in to her sister. "You have no right to say that to me, Olivia, " Victoria shot back at her. "You're not my mother, and he's not the man you think he is. He's kind and decent, and I enjoy talking to him. That's all this is, Olivia. It's a party, an evening, a conversation. I'm not running away with him. He's not having an affair with me. This is just a little talk and dancing. There's no harm in it. I think it's very sad if you are unable to understand that. " "I understand a great deal more than you think I do, or you seem able to discern yourself, " she said, still in a furious whisper. "You're doing something very dangerous with him, Victoria. You're teasing a lion. " But the phrase only made her laugh, and Victoria repeated it to him the moment they went downstairs again, where she had been quick to find him. No one seemed to have observed what was going on between them. And Victoria and Toby disappeared into the garden and even went beyond the tent. He stood with an arm around her in the warm September air, and shared a cigarette with her while he told her something he said he had never told anyone else before, outside his marriage. But as crazy as it sounded, after only one evening with her, he said he thought he loved her. He told her too that he had nothing more than an arrangement with Evangeline, that he had been so lonely for years, he thought it might kill him. Their families had forced them into it, and their marriage was hollow, meaningless, and meant nothing to him. It was a loveless union, and he had been starved for true love for so long that meeting Victoria tonight had changed everything for him. Had Olivia heard his speech, she might have killed him. Victoria sat listening to him, outwardly sophisticated, but in fact incredibly naive, believing every word he said to her, as she looked up at him adoringly but innocently, and then he kissed her. He wanted to know when they could meet again. He doubted he could live without her another moment. He said he knew how strong her principles were, after all she'd said to him that night, how ardently she believed in the cause of feminism, and of suffrage, but he was a man who shared those views with her, and he would never take advantage of her in any way. He just wanted to be near her, and get to know her. Victoria was dazzled by him, and believed every word he said to her. She wanted to believe him. She had n ever heard anything like it. And by the end of the evening, she felt as though she had become a part of Toby. They talked about the coincidence that they were both going to the Astors' ball the next day, and after that they would have to figure out some way to meet, he said. And for an odd moment, with a strange glint in his eye, he asked if Victoria would be more comfortable, when they met, if she brought her sister. But Victoria looked horrified. She already knew what Olivia thought of him, and that she'd do everything she could to prevent their meeting. Victoria told him that she would not bring Olivia with her, and he seemed to accept that. It had just been a rather amusing idea that he had clung to for only the briefest of moments. And then, having agreed to meet somehow, somewhere, the day after the Astors' ball, he took her back into the tent, and from there to the drawing room, and was then quite dismayed to discover that Evangeline had a dreadful headache and insisted on going home immediately, but by then the damage was done, the deal was made, the date was set, and Victoria was already head over heels with Toby. Olivia was elsewhere in the house when the Whitticombs left, and she saw none of it, but Charles had, and he stood across the room afterwards watching Victoria with interest. There was something about the way she moved her head, the way she looked at men, her secretiveness, her seductiveness, her mysteriousness, that was entirely different from her sister. Olivia was completely open, willing to hold out her heart and her hand, he sensed easily how giving she was, how caring. And yet it was the tormented one who fascinated him, the one who didn't know yet what she wanted, and wanted all the wrong things thus far, that intrigued him. There was something so insanely perverse about it that it even annoyed him, and there was a part of him that wanted to stride across the room and grab Victoria and shake her for her foolishness, but of course he didn't. There was yet another part of him that wanted to forget her entirely and concentrate on the far more sensible, infinitely decent Olivia, and yet she seemed so uncomplicated, so able to give and to receive that she frightened him. He was far too tortured and too bruised himself, after Susan's death, to accept all that Olivia offered. He had grown used to pain, to unbelief, to frustration and anger, and it was far easier for him to be near someone who didn't want him, had no expectations of him, than to be near all that Olivia had to give him. To even let her close to him, with her wide-open heart, would have been a betrayal of Susan. Victoria was something entirely different. And he watched her as the evening wound down, fascinated by her. She had something on her mind now, probably the infamous Tobias Whitticomb. And he couldn't help wondering what she was going to do about it. Would he be getting rescue calls again? Would Olivia dare to stop her? Did she even realize what was happening, or was Victoria clever enough to conceal it from her? Just watching her intrigued him. And at last Charles went to speak to their father, and thank him for the evening. It had been a splendid party, the first he'd been to in more than a year. He had woken some old and new feelings that faintly unnerved him. Both the tenderness that Olivia had aroused, and the raw hunger and aching loneliness that Victoria caused him. None were emotions he could put up with. And he left with an odd feeling of emptiness that night, that neither the polite excess of alcohol he'd consumed could numb, nor his son sleeping peacefully at home could fill. He wanted one thing, one life, one person, and she was gone now. And neither of the Henderson twins, however lonely, were adequate substitutes for her. Charles said good night to both twins when he left, and thanked them for the party. Victoria had said very little to him. She had looked somewhat heated, and distracted, and he realized that she'd been drinking too, although Olivia hadn't. She'd had a few sips of champagne while they talked, and she thanked him for coming. He said good-bye to her, trying not to look straight into her heart, but she made it all too easy for him. He wanted to warn her that life would be cruel to her, that a heart like hers was dangerous, and she would do well to hide it. But in truth, it was Victoria who was in real danger. And Olivia knew that. She had seen Toby with her, and after the last guest left, and they finally went to their room well after two o'clock in the morning, Olivia followed her there and watched her. "You agreed to see him, didn't you? " She confronted her, the party was nearly ruined for her, from worrying about her sister. "Of course not, " Victoria lied, and Olivia knew that too. She knew everything. It was impossible not to. Victoria was far too transparent. It didn't even require their special bond to understand it. "Besides, it's none of your business. " "The man is a rotter, " Olivia shouted at her, "everyone in New York knows that. " "He knows his reputation too. He told me so himself. " "How clever. But that does not absolve him. Victoria, you cannot see him. " "I can do anything I want to, and you can't stop me, " Victoria hissed at her. Nothing would stop her. Toby's lure was far more powerful than her sister's caution. He was the devil, the serpent in the Garden of Eden. "Please . . . listen to me . . . " There were tears in Olivia's eyes as she begged her. "You'll get hurt. You're not sophisticated enough to handle a man like this. No one is, except maybe someone like him. Victoria, listen to me. Believe me. The stories about him are awful. " "He says they're lies, " Victoria said, thoroughly convinced and manipulated by him in a single evening. The man was a genius at convincing people of whatever he wanted, particularly women. "Because people are jealous of him. " "Why? " Olivia tried to reason with her, to no avail. It was hopeless. WHY should they be? " "His looks, his position, his money. " He had told Victoria all that himself, and she believed him. "His looks will be gone soon, his position is his wife's, and he was lucky with the money. So what's to be jealous of? " Olivia said coldly. "Maybe you want him for yourself, " Victoria suggested evilly, not sure whether or not she believed it, but determined to say it anyway. She was furious with Olivia for trying to keep her from seeing Toby. "Maybe you want him, and not that dreadful dullard attorney of Father's. " "Stop being so rude about him. He's a decent man, Victoria, and you know it. " "He bores me, " she said, the champagne talking as much as her own heart now. "Charles Dawson won't hurt you. Toby Whitticomb will. He'll use you, and then he'll throw you away, like paper to write on. And when it's all over, he'll go back to his wife and have another baby. " "You're disgusting, " Victoria said to her, and Olivia felt the familiar pain in her stomach she always got when they argued. She hated fighting with her sister, and seldom did it. This was not like their innocent squabbles, or even their more serious ones, about Victoria's childish pranks and adventures. This was a death dance, and Olivia knew it. "I won't speak to you about this again, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, always, and I love you. And I'm begging you not to see him. I know you'll do what you want, but he's dangerous, Victoria. And Father would be very upset if he knew you had spent the evening with him. He only invited him to be polite, and you were very foolish sitting yourself next to him. You're lucky Father had his back to you and never noticed. You're playing with a lion, Victoria. You're not big enough or strong enough to win. And eventually, the lion will eat you. " "I'm not worried, " she said confidently, "we're just friends. That's all. He's married anyway. " She was trying to get Olivia off the scent, so she could have some freedom. And she didn't bother to tell her how empty their marriage was. He had even hinted to her that they had been talking about divorcing recently. It would be a terrible scandal, of course, but he said he couldn't bear to go on in a loveless marriage like this for much longer. Victoria felt desperately sorry for him. But Olivia didn't, she hated him and wanted to send him away before he destroyed her sister. When they went to bed that night, long after three o'clock, all Olivia could think of was the mess her sister was in, and all Victoria could think of was the Astors' ball the next night, when she knew she would see him. Chapter 4. Olivia woke the next day to muffled sounds from downstairs, and as she lay in bed and listened to them, she remembered instantly the agonizing argument with her sister. But when she turned on her side to look at her, she saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Olivia got up quietly, combed her hair, and put her dressing gown on to see what the noises were, and then she remembered. As soon as she got downstairs, she saw men everywhere, there were people in the garden taking down the tent, furniture being put back where it belonged, and flowers from their guests being delivered by the armful. It was total chaos. And Mrs. Peabody and the butler were standing in the midst of it, directing traffic. "Did you sleep well? " Bertie smiled at her, and Olivia nodded, apologizing for not having gotten up early enough to help her. "You did a lovely job last night, my dear. You deserved a little rest this morning. I'm glad you could sleep through all this racket. " Though it was difficult to imagine how, as they were making a huge amount of noise taking down the tent in the garden. "Every one says the evening was a great success. I'm sure that all of New York is talking about it today, they must be, judging by the amount of flowers we've received. I've put most of them in the dining room for the moment. " Olivia wandered into the dining room quietly, wondering where Victoria had gone, and almost the first bouquet she saw was a huge vase filled with two dozen long-stemmed red roses, but when Olivia read the card attached to it, it said only "Thank you for the most important evening of my life. " It was unsigned, and then she saw that the envelope was addressed to her sister. It was far too easy to figure out who had sent it. The other arrangements all had signed cards, and were a great deal more circumspect, though possibly less pretty. There was a lovely arrangement though, she noticed, from Charles, addressed to all three of them, thanking them for a delightful evening. She knew that it was the first time he had gone out formally since his wife had died, and she was glad that he had had a pleasant evening. She certainly had, seated next to him, though she was still somewhat annoyed at Victoria for having changed the seating. Olivia wandered into the kitchen then, and observed the activity there, and then she saw Victoria, sitting alone in the breakfast room, drinking a cup of coffee. Olivia stood looking at her for a moment, worrying about her again, and then she walked over and sat down beside her. "Did you sleep well? " Olivia asked uncomfortably, still ill at ease after their argument of the night before. It had been far more serious than any they'd had in years. And this time was far more lethal than their childlish fights. Olivia was convinced that her sister was in real danger. "Very well, thank you, " Victoria said formally, without looking at her. "I'm surprised you could sleep with all the noise down here, " she said, glancing over her shoulder. Olivia thought she looked particularly beautiful, which was odd. She never thought of herself that way, and yet she could always see something different, and more exciting, in her younger sister. And there was something she had never seen before in Victoria's eyes that morning. "I think I was exhausted. " Olivia didn't mention the altercation of the night before, but after she had sat down and been served coffee by one of the kitchen maids, she asked Victoria if she had seen her flowers. "Yes, I did, " she answered after a moment's hesitation. "I think I can figure out who sent them. I imagine you can too. " Olivia said it cautiously, and there was a long silence. "I hope you'll think about what I said last night, Victoria. It's a very dangerous situation. " "They're only roses, Olivia. There's no need for you to get up in arms over them, or about anything that happened last night. He's a very interesting man, that's all. You don't need to make anything more of it, " Victoria said, trying to make light of it in the morning sunshine, but Olivia could see something in her twin's eyes that frightened her, something very determined and powerful. And she knew instinctively that Victoria was not going to let go of Toby. "I hope you don't spend time with him again tonight. It would make people talk, and the party is at his wife's cousins' house. You really have to be careful, " Olivia warned her. "Thank you, Olivia, " Victoria said, and stood up, looking down at her sister. They were so identical without, and so different within, sometimes it was hard to believe they were even sisters, let alone twins. Olivia felt a shiver of fear at the chasm she suddenly felt between them. "What are you doing today? " she asked innocently. "I'm going to a lecture. Is that all right with you, Olivia dear, or do I need your permission? " "I just asked. You needn't be so sensitive, or so rude, " she said tartly, tired of the sparks and the sudden enmity that had come up between them because of Victoria's flirtation with Toby. "Since when do you ask my permission to do anything? You only expect me to cover up for you, you never bother to ask before you do whatever it is you wanted to do in the first place. " "You won't need to cover up for me today, thank you very much. " It was times like this that made each of them wish they had other friends. But the exclusivity of their relationship, their unusual closeness, their isolation from school, and the remoteness of where they lived, had always deprived them of other people. They had always been closer to each other than to anyone else, and although they liked it most of the time, at times it left each of them feeling somewhat lonely. What are you doing today? " Victoria asked. "Housework, I assume, as usual. " She made Olivia sound incredibly dull, and Olivia felt it, as she looked at her sister. No one had sent her two dozen roses with an anonymous card. The man she admired had sent an impersonal card addressed not only to her, but to her father and sister, and for a fraction of a second, Olivia found herself wondering if Victoria was right, and she was jealous. "I'm going to help Bertie put the house back in order again. It'll dave poor Father crazy to live with this mess for very long. I thought we could do it all today before the ball at the Astors' tonight. " "How entertaining. " Victoria swept upstairs then, and she left the house an hour later, in a dark blue silk suit and a fashionable hat, and had Pethe dave her to her meeting. It was in a very ordinary neighborhood, and after he dropped her off, he came back very quickly. The rest of the day sped by for all of them, Victoria came back early in the afternoon, and Bertie put her to work too, ordering the men who were banging back the furniture from where it had been stored in their carriage house around the corner. Olivia was working frantically, trying to help repair some of the damage that had been done in the garden, and by five o'clock, miraculously, the house looked as though no one had been there. Bertie congratulated both of them on their fine work, and almost as though on cue, their father walked in and told them how nice the house looked. "You'd never know we had so much as a dinner guest, let alone fifty people dancing all over the place, and a tent damn near destroying the garden. How bad is * out there? " he asked, and Olivia reassured him. "Every one in New York is talking about what delightful hostesses you are, " he said to both girls, but Victoria looked uninterested in his praise, and a few minutes later she went upstairs to dress for the Astors' party. Olivia had already put their dresses out for them, they were pale pink gauzy dresses she had copied, as usual, from Poiret, and they were quite demure. She'd had a moment of doubt when she set them out, and then decided that perhaps it was what was needed at the moment, precisely not to entice Toby. "It really was a lovely party, Olivia, " her father complimented her again, and sat down in his favorite chair in his comfortable study. Everything had been replaced precisely as it had been, and Olivia poured him a glass of port and handed it to him, as he looked up at her with a warm smile. With each passing day, he seemed to enjoy her company more than ever. "You spoil me terribly, my dear. I'm not even sure your mother would have been as kind, if she were alive. She was a bit more like your sister, a bit fiery at times, and determined to remain independent. " Being in this house always reminded him of her. It was painful for him at times, and yet he liked being there now with his daughters. He was happy with his business deals, and the time he was spending with his attorneys making plans, they were interesting, intelligent men, and it reminded him of the days before he'd retired, when he was running an empire, and not just a portfolio of investments. He had been thinking of selling his steel mills in Pittsburgh recently, and Charles thought he had located a serious, interested buyer. But it was not a simple decision to make, and he was thinking now that they might be in New York at least until the end of October, if not longer. "Are you enjoying it here? " her father asked, happy to have a moment alone with her. "Yes, Father, I like it, " she said with a quiet smile. "I'm not sure I'd like living here all the time. I think I'd miss the country if we lived in the city permanently, but I like the museums, and the people, and the parties. There's always so much going on. It's fun being here. " She smiled at him more warmly, and for a moment she looked like a child again, but she was still very much a woman, and there were times when he felt guilty for being so possessive of them. He knew they were of an age when they should be out in the world, as they were now, and finding husbands, and yet he knew he would be heartbroken when they finally left him. "I suppose I should be making more of an effort to introduce you to eligible young men, " he said halfheartedly, sipping his port, and they exchanged a smile. "You and Victoria should be getting married one of these days, though I hate thinking of it, I'll admit. I don't know what I'd do without you. You most of all, I'm afraid. You'll have to stop taking such good care of me, my dear, so it won't be such a shock when you go. I absolutely dread it. " His eyes were filled with fatherly love, as she took his hand in her own and kissed it. "I'll never leave you. You know that. I couldn't. " It was what she had said to him when she was five, and then ten, but now she really meant it. His health had weakened considerably over the years, his heart wasn't strong, and she couldn't imagine leaving him. Who would look after him if she did? Who would run his homes? Who would keep after everyone, or see when he was Lying about his health and actually feeling ill, and really needed the doctor? She knew she could neve r trust anyone else to take care of him, certainly not Victoria who never even noticed when he was ill, until somebody, usually Olivia, told her. "I couldn't leave you, Father, " she said firmly, and meant it. "You can't stay an old maid, not as pretty as you both are, " he said, admiring her, and knowing that it would have been wrong to let her do that. And yet, there was a part of him that wanted to let her have her way, even if it meant sacrificing herself. He needed her as much as she thought he did, and it was so easy having her take care of everything domestic. It was almost as though she was already married to his life, she took care of the most minute details. He would have been lost without her, but he also knew that not pushing her out of the nest eventually would have been incredibly selfish. And then, not even wanting to think of losing her, he carefully changed the subject. "Has Victoria met anyone exciting here? I haven't paid much attention to any prospective suitors. " He had noticed that Charles Dawson seemed to be somewhat fascinated by her, but he was probably intrigued by both of them. Most people were, it was hard not to be overwhelmed by such doubly extraordinary beauty. "I don't think so, Father, " Olivia lied, as always, for her, even now, worded about the abominable Toby. We haven't really met anyone yet. I mean . . . not really . . . " They had of course met everyone who was anyone in New York, at the theater when their father took them out, at dinner parties, at concerts they had gone to. But no one had specifically introduced them to any young men with the intention of marrying them off. In some ways, Olivia correctly guessed that some people were intimidated by them, or viewed them as freaks, or thought they would never agree to leave each other. Most people had no concept of how different they were, how divergent their tastes and interests. They just saw them as one very pretty girl, seen double. "Victoria is behaving, isn't she? " her father asked with a look of amusement. He had finally heard, through indirect means, that his daughter had learned to dave and had actually stolen one of his cars, and had gone somewhere with it in Croton. He had never heard of her near arrest, fortunately, and the escapade with the Ford struck him as harmless and somewhat silly. Her mother might have done the same thing at her age, and driven right over his favorite flowerbeds in the process. She had actually walked her horse into their living room once, on a bet with a friend, and everyone had been horrified. But Edward had thought it was very funny. He was actually surprisingly tolerant for a man his age, and had never been particularly upset by Victoria's high spirits, in fact, he had indulged them, because she reminded him so much of her mother. "Will you be all right down here? " Olivia asked when she left him to dress for the party at the Astors'. She poured him another glass of port, and left him sitting next to the fireplace, comfortably reading the evening paper. He said he was going upstairs in a few minutes himself to dress, and told her that time to be ready for the party. And as she walked upstairs, she thought of the questions he had asked, about Victoria meeting any men in New York, and either of them finding husbands and getting married. And she thought too about what she'd said to him. She really couldn't imagine leaving him and getting married. What if his health failed? Or he became ill? Who would take care of him? It would have been different if her mother had been alive, they would have had the luxury of normal lives then. But now Olivia felt that at least one of them should stay and take care of him, and she was the obvious one to do it. But as she thought of it, she let her mind drift to Charles, and she suddenly asked herself what would happen if a man like him ever asked her to marry him. What would she do then? It made her heart beat faster just thinking of it. She couldn't imagine a man like Charles ever pursuing her . . . but if he did . . . if . . . she couldn't even allow herself to think of it. She had obligations here. Charles had absolutely no interest in her. He was only being kind to her whenever he came to see her father. When Olivia reached her bedroom, she could hear her sister dressing in the bathroom beyond. They had closets and mirrors there, and when she walked in to run a bath, she saw half a dozen dresses on the floor, among them the pink one she had selected for them to wear to the Astors'. "What are you doing? " She looked at Victoria in surprise, and then quickly understood what had happened. "I'm not wearing that thing you picked out for tonight, " Victoria said viciously, throwing another reject on a chair. "We'll look like a couple of country bumpkins, although I suppose that was your intention. " "I think it's very pretty, " Olivia said noncommittally, admitting nothing to her overwrought twin sister. "What else did you have in mind? " She had obviously already been through half their closet. And at the moment she was holding up a dress Olivia had never liked. She had tried copying a dress by Beer, in deep crimson velvet with tiny jet beads, and a long beaded train behind it. Olivia had always thought it was far too low cut for them, and other than at a Christmas party at their father's house in Croton-on-Hudson, they had never worn it. "I don't like that, and you know it, " Olivia said to Victoria as soon as she saw what she was holding. It had a black satin beaded cape that went over it, lined in the crimson velvet. "It's too low cut, and too showy. We'll look vulgar. " "This is a ball, not a tea party in Croton, Olivia, " Victoria said coldly. "You're trying to show off for him, Victoria, and I won't help you do it. In that dress, in this town, we'll look like harlots. And I won't wear it. " "Fine, " Victoria said, pirouetting on one heel, and Olivia didn't want to admit to her how sensational she looked. The dress was a lot better than she remembered, but it also seemed far too d'ring. "Then why don't you wear the pink, Ollie dear, and I'll wear this one. " Much to Olivia's surprise, she sounded as though she meant it. "Don't be stupid. " They never went out in different outfits. All their lives, they had matched every single thing, right down to their underwear and their hairpins. It was simply what they did, and going out in something different than her twin would have made Olivia feel naked. "Why not? We're grown-up. We don't have to wear the same thing anymore. Bertie always thought it was sweet when we were children. But we don't have to be sweet anymore, Olivia, in fact, I refuse to. That pink thing is sweet, it's so sweet' it makes me sick to look at it. This is what I want to wear, what I'm going to wear to the Astors' tonight, and if you don't like it, feel free to wear something different. " "That's spiteful of you, Victoria, and I know precisely what you're doing and so do you. And let me tell you, last night was not the most important evening of his life, but it may have been of yours, if you choose to ruin it for Tobias Whitticomb. You're a damn fool if you do that. " Olivia spat the words at her, yanking the identical red velvet dress out of her closet. "I hate this stupid dress, and I'm sorry I had it made, particularly if you're going to make fools of us, forcing me to wear it to the Astors'. " "I told you, " Victoria said, having laid the dress aside again, while she brushed her hair. "You don't have to wear it. " But this time, Olivia didn't answer. The two never spoke to each other again, as they bathe and dressed, and powdered and perfumed. And Olivia looked surprised when she saw Victoria put on the merest hint of lip rouge. Neither of them had ever worn it before, and Olivia thought her sister suddenly looked very different. She looked not only beautiful, but more than a little racy. "I'm not wearing that, " Olivia said sullenly as she finished doing her hair, and watched Victoria put on the lip rouge in the mirror. "No one said you had to. " "You're in over your head, Victoria, " Olivia said darkly. "Maybe I swim better than you do. " "He'll drown you, " Olivia said sadly, as Victoria left the room, dragging the satin-and-velvet beaded cape behind her. As the two girls came down the stairs a few minutes later, their father stared up at them in total silence. Everything about the way they looked that night told him they were no longer little girls. They looked like truly dazzling women. Victoria came down the stairs first, and even the way she moved spoke of worlds she knew nothing about, and yet was instinctively a part of. It was Olivia who looked considerably less at ease in the highly visible outfit. Their figures suited it, and the dress showed off their creamy skin and lithe young bodies. They both had tiny waists and high breasts, all of which were shown off to full advantage in the low-cut crimson velvet. "Good Heavens, where did you get those dresses? " their father asked, surprised to see them in something so fashionable and almost exotic. "Olivia had them made for us, " Victoria said sweetly, "I think she designed them. " "I had them copied actually, " Olivia said unhappily as the butler helped them put their capes on, "but they didn't come out the way I wanted. " "I'll be the envy of every man there, " their father said generously and led them both outside to the waiting limousine. There was a chill in the air, and he looked at both girls as they stepped into the car ahead of him. He'd been right that afternoon, they were certainly no longer children. And it would be a miracle if every man there didn't propose to them that night. He was almost sorry to take them out looking like that, they wer e far too sensuous looking and too appealing. But he wasn't nearly as sorry as Olivia, sitting pressed into the corner of the car, hating the dress she'd been forced to wear, and furious with her sister. When they arrived at the Astors' palatial home on Fifth Avenue, it was ablaze with light, and inside and out, it looked like a palace. There were four hundred people there, and faces and names that the girls had only read about or heard of. The Goelets and the Gibsons were there, Prince Albert of Monaco, a French count, an English duke, and an assortment of minor nobles from other countries. All of the available New York "Astocracy was there, some who hadn't been out in years, like the Ellsworths who had been in seclusion for two years, since the death of their eldest daughter. A handful of survivors from the Titanic disaster the year I before were there, and some said it was literally the first time they had been out, which made Olivia think immediately of Charles Dawson. She nodded to Madeleine Astor, who had lost her husband John when the ship went down, and she was looking exceptionally pretty. The baby she'd had after his father died was almost a year old now, and it saddened Olivia to think that he would never know his father. "You're looking exceptionally well tonight. " She heard a familiar voice and turned to see who it was, and was surprised to see Charles Dawson. And then he laughed, "I know you're Miss Henderson, and I could pretend to know which one you are, but I'm afraid I don't, so you'll have to help me. " "Olivia, " she said with a slow smile, with a sudden mischievous temptation to pretend she was her sister, just to see if he would say anything different. "What are you doing here, Mr. Dawson? " she asked with a smile. He had told her the night before he never went to parties. "I hope you're telling me the truth, " he said, as though he knew what she had just been thinking about tacking him. "I shall just have to believe you. Actually, I was related to the Astors by marriage. My late wife was the niece of our hostess, and she was very kind and insisted that I come. I'm not sure I would have, if it hadn't been for last night. You broke the ice for me, but I'm afraid this is rather more serious than I expected. It's an absolute madhouse, " not like their elegant little soiree of the night before, with a mere fifty people. But the Astors' home accommodated the glittering crowd easily, and in fact Victoria had vanished the moment they entered. Charles stayed and talked to Olivia for quite a while, they chatted about his son, and the few people Olivia knew there, and some she recognized, and then he said something about Madeleine Astor having been on the ship with his wife when it went down. He always looked so desperately sad when he talked about her, that it tore at Olivia's heart to see it. She had no idea what to say to him, and she suspected that it was a grief from which he might never recover. He seemed to be functioning, but there was a piece of him which was clearly so torn apart that it appeared as though it could never be mended. "I assume your sister must be here tonight, " he said pleasantly. "I haven't seen her. " "Neither have I. She disappeared as soon as we arrived. She's wearing the same awful dress, " Olivia said woefully, but at least in this crowd it didn't stick out, there were others like it, or even far more daring. But Charles laughed at what she'd said. "I take it you don't like it. It's very handsome though. Very, " he looked slightly embarrassed as he said it, "is grown-up' the wrong word to use with a young woman your age? " "Inappropriate might be better. I told Victoria I feel like a harlot. She chose it, but I had it made in the first place, so she can blame me, and has. Worse yet, my father thinks it was my choice. " "Did he object? " Charles asked, amused, and she watched his eyes as they spoke. They were so deep and so green and so intriguing. And without meaning to, the crowd pushed her gently against him. "No, he liked it. " She made a face, referring to her father liking the dress she detested. "Men always like women in red velvet, " Charles informed her. "I think it gives them the illusion of something wicked. " Olivia nodded, hoping that in her sister's case it would be nothing more than an illusion. Charles took her in to dinner eventually, and after a while he left her with a group of young ladies. He introduced Olivia to all of them, and hoped she was comfortable with them, when he went in search of his wife's cousins. He had already explained that his little boy was ill and he didn't want to stay late at the party. She was sorry to see him go, because the music had just started. And a few minutes later, she saw that her sister was one of the first on the floor, far too predictably in the arms of Toby. She watched them circle slowly around the floor in a slow, easy waltz, and then was shocked a little while later, to see them still there, and doing the brand-new foxtrot. "Good lord, it's like seeing two of you, " one of the girls said, staring at her, fascinated by how much she looked like her twin sister. She said she'd never seen anything like it. "Are you totally, totally alike in every way? " she asked, consumed with curiosity while Olivia smiled. It was always like this for them, people wanted to know what it was like being identical twin sisters. "Pretty much. We're mirror twins. Things I have on the right, she has on the left. My right eyebrow goes up a bit, her left one does. My left foot is bigger, her right one is. " "What fun it must have been growing up, " another of the Astor cousins said. And two of the Rockefeller girls had joined them to listen. Olivia had met one of them on the old Gould estate, and she had seen the other at a tea the Rockefellers had given in the music room at Kykuit. All Olivia could remember about it was the incredible organ. Since the Rockefellers neither danced nor drank, they seldom gave grand parties the way the Vanderbilts and Astors did, but they often had small musical soirees, or lunches at Kykuit. "Did you switch all the time? " one of the girls asked. "No, " Olivia laughed. "Only when we wanted to get into mischief, or out of it. My sister hated taking exams in school, so I always took all of them for her. When we were very little, she kept talking me into taking her medicine for her, and I'd get very sick taking it for both of us, until the lady who took care of us caught on to what we were doing. She usually knew, but sometimes she'd have one of the maids give us castor oil, or things we really hated. And we could always fool them. " "Why would you do that? " One of the girls made an awful face at the thought of a double dose of castor oil. It was a hideous prospect. "Because I love her, " Olivia said simply, always at a loss to explain the lengths to which she would have gone for her twin sister. The bond between them was beyond severing, beyond challenging, beyond explaining. "I did a lot of silly things for her, and she for me. Eventually, our father took us out of school because we caused so much trouble. We had a lot of fun though. " Olivia smiled at them, and they marveled at her stories. But talking to them had distracted her, and an hour later, Olivia realized that Victoria was still dancing with Toby. They had never left the floor, and Victoria looked as though she were molded into his arms as they circled slowly around the floor, lost in each other's eyes, and oblivious to the hundreds of people around them. Olivia excused herself from among the young ladies then, and went to look for Charles, and she was relieved when she found him nearly at the front door, with his coat on. "Will you do me a favor? " she asked quietly, with pleading eyes that he found hard to resist. They matched the tone he'd heard in her voice the day she'd called him and asked him to come to the Fifth Precinct with her. "Is something wrong? " he asked, concerned, and surprised at how comfortable he was with her. In some ways, she was like a little sister. It was nothing of what he felt when he was in the presence of her twin sister. And yet side by side, ignoring his instinctive feelings for them, he would have been unable to determine who was who. It was only when he talked to them, when he stood with them for a while, and felt a strange stirring in his soul, that he knew. He liked to think he could have told them apart instantly, if he'd known them better. "Is our friend up to some mischief again? " he asked, concerned. It always seemed to be Victoria who was in trouble, and Olivia who was rescuing her. He had long since understood that much about the relationship between them. "I'm afraid so. Will you dance with me, Mr. Dawson? " "Charles . . please. I think we've gotten past Mr. Dawson. " He took off his coat, handed it to the butler again, without a complaint to her that it had just taken him half an hour to get it, and he was anxious to get home to Geoff. He followed her dutifully through the next two rooms and onto the dance floor, and then he saw instantly what her problem was. Toby and Victoria were dancing closer still by then, and Olivia looked extremely unhappy when she saw them. Charles led her onto the dance floor and danced as close to them as possible, but Toby was artful at avoiding them, and Victoria appeared to be oblivious to her sister's glances and pointedly disapproving faces. Finally, she turned her back on them, and whispered something to Toby, until at last they left the dance floor, and disappeared into the next room. And Olivia couldn't see them as soon as the crowd closed around them. "Thank you, " Olivia said, looking very grim, and Charles smiled down at her. "That's not an easy job you've set yourself. She's a very headstrong girl. " He still remembered how annoyed she had been not to be arrested, and how ungrateful for her sister's succor. "That was Tobias Whitticomb, wasn't it? " He knew all the stories too. All of New York did. But they had more meaning now, if he was planning to make Victoria his next victim. Charles hoped he would tire of her before he did any real damage. Or perhaps the Hendersons would step in before it went any further. Olivia certainly looked as though she meant to. And she thanked Charles again for his help in chasing her sister off the dance floor. "She's been making a spectacle of herself for the past hour, " Olivia said with eyes full of blue anger. "Don't worry about it. She's pretty and young, there will be lots of roues running after her until she finds a husband. You can't worry about all of them, " he tried to reassure her, but he had to admit Whitticomb's reputation was worth worrying about, and he couldn't tell Olivia she was wrong to watch them. "Victoria says she is never marrying. She is going to live in Europe and fight for women's suffrage. " "Oh dear. She'll grow out of it, I'm sure. When the right man comes along, she'll forget all that. Just don't tell him she wants to get arrested, " he teased, "and don't worry about her so much. You deserve to have some fun, " he said, as he said good-bye to her finally and left a few minutes later. Olivia went to the ladies' room then, and looked in the mirror as she smoothed down her hair. She had a terrible headache, the argument with Victoria had gotten the evening off to a bad start, and seeing her glued to Toby for the past hour hadn't helped it. But before Olivia could turn around, she saw Evangeline Whitticomb in the mirror, bearing down on her, and within an instant, she was standing directly behind her, as Olivia turned slowly to face her. "May I suggest, Miss Henderson, that you play with children your own age, and at the very least confine yourself to bachelors, rather than married men, with three children. " She looked Olivia right in the eye, without wavering, and Olivia felt a hot flush hit her cheeks, as she realized that she'd been mistaken for her twin. And Toby's wife was livid, and Olivia didn't blame her. "I'm terribly sorry, " Olivia said quietly, tacitly agreeing to be Victoria, and hoping to pour oil on troubled waters. It was a golden opportunity, and she hoped to convince his wife that it was nothing more than friendly conversation. "Your husband has had several business dealings with my father, ma'am, and it was purely a matter of discussing our families. He has done nothing but speak of you and the children while we were dancing. " "I doubt that, " Toby's wife said angrily. "I'm surprised to hear he even remembers he has us. Just be sure that you do, or I can assure you, " she looked pointedly at her and lowered her voice but not her venom, "you'll regret it. You mean nothing to him, you know. He'll play with you like a toy, for a while, and then he'll drop you, and wherever you fall, you'll lie broken. He'll come back to me in the end . . . he has to. " And with that, she turned on her heel and left, and Olivia felt as though all the air had been squeezed out of her. Fortunately, there had been no one else in the room at the time, and she had to sit down after the other woman left, she was so dizzy. And she was right of course. Evangeline Whitticomb knew her husband well, she had seen his performance dozens of times, and he always came back to her, because of who she was, what she represented, and because he was far less foolish than the women he played with. Most of them were young and inexperienced, many of them were virgins. They were dazzled by him, by his good looks and smooth ways, the breathtaking things he said to them, and their own girlish illusions, or even ambitious aspirations. But whatever they thought, and whatever he told them, in the end, it made no difference, he always left them. Just as Olivia had tried to warn her. She hoped that she had at least assured his wife of her respectability, or rather Victoria's, but she doubted it, and when Olivia left the powder room again, she saw Victoria back on the dance floor in Toby's arms, and this time they looked a great deal more intimate, their bodies pressed close, their lips almost touching. Olivia wanted to scream looking at them, but instead she did the only other thing she could think of. She went to tell her father that she had a terrible headache, and he was instantly solicitous, sent a maid to find her coat for her, and went to get Victoria himself. He found her dancing with young Whitticomb, and although he didn't seem pleased, he thought nothing serious of it. He knew they had met in his home, and he hadn't seen them together since then. He did make a comment though on the way home that he had been surprised, after all he'd said, that Olivia had seated Toby next to her sister. But he said rather pointedly that he was sure no harm had come of it, and Victoria was wise enough not to let him woo her. He hadn't seen Toby watching her as they left, or the look they exchanged that only confirmed everything they'd said that evening. Toby and Victoria had found a delicious little room in a little pavilion at the very back of the garden, and it was there that he had kissed her for the first time, and that they had spent all their time, in each other's arms, whenever they weren't dancing. "I'm so sorry, my dear, " her father apologized to Olivia for her headache all the way home. "It's been too much for you, after the party last night and the ball tonight, I don't know what I was thinking of when I accepted it. I thought it might be fun for you girls, but you must be exhausted. " Victoria looked anything but, and she looked daggers at Olivia as soon as their father glanced out the window. She knew her sister far better than that, and found * hard to believe she had a headache. She had no idea how much she'd upset her. "That was very clever of you, " she said icily when they got upstairs to their bedroom. "I don't know what you're talking about. I do have a headache, " Olivia insisted, as she took the hated dress off. She wanted to burn it. And after the way Victoria had behaved, she did indeed feel like a harlot. "You know exactly what I mean. But your little ruse won't change anything. You have no idea what you're doing. " She knew for a fact that Toby was totally sincere. He had fallen madly in love with her, and it did not shock her in the least that he wanted to divorce his wife. She didn't even care if he did. She was totally modern in her ideas. She didn't have to marry him. They could be lovers forever. He had even talked to her about leaving the country eventually, and living in Europe. Toby Whitticomb was everything she'd ever wanted. Daring, brave, bold, honest, willing to pay any price for what he believed. She saw him as a knight in shining armor, ready to rescue her from her mundane little life in their incredibly boring home on the Hudson. He had already lived in Pads and London and Argentina. It was all music to her ears, and every time she thought of him, her entire body trembled. "His wife attacked me in the powder room tonight, " Olivia said as she put on her dressing gown. "She thought I was you. " "How convenient. Did you tell her how sorry you were and that it was all a terrible mistake? " "More or less. " Victoria laughed when she heard it. But Olivia went on solemnly. "She told me that Toby makes a habit of this, just as everyone says, and when it's all over, he drops the girls he flirts with like broken dolls. I don't want you to be one of them, " Olivia said hoarsely. This was the first thing that had caused a serious rift with them, and it was making Olivia feel sick as it continued. And she couldn't see how anything would change until Victoria came out from under his spell. It made Olivia wish, more than anything, that they were back in Croton-on-Hudson. "Victoria, please, be sensible . . . don't get close to him . . . he's dangerous. I want you to promise me you won't try to see him. " "I promise, " Victoria said without sincerity or expression. "I mean it. " Olivia had tears in her eyes when she spoke. She hated him even more now for making them argue. Nothing and no one had a right to come between them. As far as Olivia was concerned, their bond was sacred. "You're jealous, " Victoria said coolly. "I'm not, " Olivia said, desperate to convince her. "You are. He's in love with me, and that frightens you. You're afraid he'll take me away from you, " Victoria said with some truth in it, but not exactly the way she meant it. "He's doing that already. But don't you see the risk you'd be taking if you let yourself fall in love with this man? I cannot say it often enough, Victoria, he's dangerous. You have to see that. " "I'll be careful. I swear, " she said, softening a little. She hated fighting with Olivia, she loved her too much, and it scared her. But suddenly she knew she loved Toby too. She was falling head over heels in love with him, and it was too late to stop it. When he had kissed her that night, she thought her entire body would melt, and when he had reached into the bothee of her dress and touched her breast, she would have done anything he wanted. No one had ever done that to her before. No one had ever made her want them more than life itself, and how could she explain that to her sister? "Promise me you won't see him, " Olivia begged, now that she had her sister's ear. "Please. " "Don't ask me that. I promise I won't do anything foolish. " "Seeing him is foolish. Even his wife knows it. " "She's angry because he's divorcing her. Wouldn't you be? " "Think of the scandal that will make. Especially for an Astor. Why don't you at least wait for that to happen, and for the noise to die down, and then he can come to see you openly, and you can explain it to Father. " Now she could do nothing except see him on the sly, and get caught in the cross fire between him and his wife and a world which already condemned him for his past follies. "Ollie, it will take forever. " "And when we go home again? Then what? Will he come to see you there? What will people say, Victoria? . . . and Father? . . . " "I don't know. He says we can conquer anything if I love him. And I do, oh Ollie, I do love him. " She closed her eyes and her heart nearly flew out of her chest as she thought of him, and then opened her eyes again and looked at her sister. "How can I tell you what it's like? I would the for him if he asked me. " At least Victoria was being honest with her, but it didn't make Olivia feel any better. "That's what I'm afraid of, " Olivia said sadly. "I don't want anyone ever to hurt you. " "He won't. I swear. You must come to tea with us one day. I want you to know him. I want you to love him too . . . Ollie, please . . . I can't do this without you. " But that was too much for her. Silence was already too much to ask of her, but asking her complicity as well would be far too painful. "Victoria, I can't help you this time, " Olivia said quietly. "I think that what you're doing is dangerous and wrong, and I'm afraid you'll get hurt. Perhaps I can't stop you, but I won't help you do it. Not this time. " "Then swear you won't say anything . . . swear to me, " Victoria begged her on her knees, her eyes filled with tears, as Olivia began to cry too, and took her in her arms and held her. "How can you ask me to do this? How can I let him hurt you? " "He won't . . . believe me, he won't . . . trust me ... " "You're not the one I distrust here, " Olivia sighed, taking a deep breath and wiping away her tears finally. "I won't say anything for now . . . but if he hurts you, I don't know what I'd do to him. . . . " "He won't. I know him better than anyone in this life, except you. " She looked like a child as she rolled onto their bed, and lay there spread-eagled, grinning. "In two days, Victoria Henderson? I doubt that. You're a dreamer. For someone so full of radical ideas, you certainly are a romantic fool. How can you trust the man so quickly? " "Because I know who he is. I understand him completely. We are two completely independent people, with exactly the same ideas, who were lucky enough to find each other. It's a miracle, Olhe. Truly, it is. He says he's waited for me all his life, and now that I'm here he can't believe it. " "What about his wife and children? How do they fit into all this? " Olivia looked skeptical, and Victoria looked momentarily confused, not sure what to answer. "He says she forced the children on him, he never would have had children in a loveless marriage. It's really all her fault, and her problem now what she does with them. " "That's a nice sensible attitude, " Olivia said, and the sarcasm seemed to go over Victoria's head as she continued to rhapsodhze about Toby. They turned off the light a little while later, and Olivia lay with her arms around her twin. "Be careful, little sister . . . be wise . . . be wary . . . " she whispered, but Victoria was already half asleep as she nodded sleepily, and curled closer to her sister. Victoria's mind was whirling as she thought of him. They had made a date for the following day. They were meeting at the library at ten o'clock the next morning. Chapter 5. Olivia was going over their lunch and dinner menus the next morning with the cook when Victoria slipped away. She had told Bertie she was going to the library, and meeting one of the Rockefeller girls, and she would be home late that afternoon. Bertie had had Donovan drop her off at the library, and nobody seemed to notice that she was we'ring the new white suit with the matching hat, copied from Doeuillet, that Olivia hadn't even worn yet. She looked very fashionable as she walked up the library steps, holding her books to return, as Donovan drove away and went back to the house to dave Mr. Henderson to John Watson's office. Victoria returned the books as soon as she arrived, and as she glanced past the librarian, she saw him standing, watching her, just behind the polite spinster with glasses who had helped her. Victoria stood beaming at him as their eyes met, and a moment later they walked away, arm in arm. It was still early, and no one they knew ever went to the library at that hour, if ever. She had absolutely no idea what they were going to do, but she didn't really care, as long as they were together. Toby had left his car outside, a Stutz that he had bought just that year, and he laughed when Victoria told him she would love to drive it. "Don't tell me you know how to drive too, " he said, sounding delighted and amazed. "You really are the modern girl you say you are. Most people pretend they are, but really aren't. " He offered her a Milo cigarette as though to prove the point, and she took it, although it really was a little early, even for her. For a little while, they drove around the East Side in lazy circles, and then finally, he pulled the car over and looked at her, as though drinking in every detail of her face, her eyes, her soul. It was as though he wanted to engrave her on his heart forever. "I adore you, Victoria, " he- whispered into her hair. "I've never known anyone like you. " His words were like an aphrodisiac to her, and when he kissed her, she felt her soul melt into his. There was nothing she wouldn't have done for him at that moment, and he was breathless as he kissed her. He sat back against the seat of the Stutz after a long moment, and looked at Victoria in total amazement. "You drive me mad, you know. You make me want to kidnap you to Canada or Mexico, or run away to Argentina, or the Azores . . . you're a woman who deserves to be in exotic places. I'd love to be on a hot beach with you somewhere, listening to music, and kissing you, " he said as he leaned over to kiss her again, and this time she could hardly breathe as he held her. It was she who pulled away this time, unable to think straight as she looked into his dark eyes, and wished that they could run away forever. It was unbearable to think of ever leaving him again, of being apart even for a moment. But as he looked at her longingly, he suddenly smiled, as though he'd thought of something. "I have an idea, " he said, starting the car again, and heading north at the next corner. "I know exactly where we'll go today. I haven't been there in ages. " "And where's that? " she asked, looking very relaxed as he handed her a small flask, and she took a tiny sip, not to be outdone by him. It was brandy, and it burned her throat as it went down, but the warmth it gave off afterwards was very pleasant. "Where we're going is a secret, " he said mysteriously, looking over at her adoringly. It was as though they had always been meant to be together, and they both knew it. She questioned him about where they were going as they drove uptown, but he refused to answer her questions, and pretended he was kidnapping her, but she didn't look worried for even a single moment. He stopped to kiss her again several times, and they shared the flask yet another time, but the third time he handed it to her, she declined it. "Do you always drink brandy before lunch? " she asked casually. It didn't really bother her, she knew a lot of her father's friends drank fairly heavily, and even John Watson carded a flask in winter. But it wasn't cold today, it just seemed to add to the heady quality of their excitement. "I was so nervous this morning, " he confessed, "I thought I might need it. My knees were shaking when I came to meet you. " He looked boyish as he glanced over at her, and seeing him look so vulnerable and so much in love with her made Victoria feel very worldly. He was thirty-two years old and she knew she had absolutely bowled him over. It was very flattering, and everything about him was exciting, even the fact that being with him was forbidden to her, and he supposedly had a terrible reputation. Suddenly even that was exciting too, because she knew none of it was true. The one thing she never let herself think about was the fact that he was married. It didn't matter to her, after all he had told Victoria that he was divorcing Evangeline, that he had made a terrible mistake, and that he had spent five years in a loveless marriage. The idea that an Astor divorce would be the scandal of the century never even occurred to her, although it had occurred immediately to her twin sister. They were far, far uptown by then, and the houses around them were small, and simple, and square, and had begun to look almost rural. Twenty minutes after they had left the library, Toby stopped the car in front of a small, neat white house, with some overgrown hedges in front, and a half-painted picket fence all around it. "What is this? " Victoria asked, looking amused, wondering who they were going to visit. "It's my dream house, " he smiled at her, and walked around the car to help her out. She stood hesitating for a moment as he grabbed a picnic basket. She hadn't seen it before, but there was champagne in it, and caviar, and a small cake, and some other treats he had pilfered from his kitchen. Everything had been carefully arranged, and as she looked at him in amazement, he took a key out of his pocket. "Whose house is this? " she asked, not feeling afraid, but only curious and uncertain. It was odd not knowing where she was, or who they were visiti ng, and she followed him cautiously to the door as he unlocked it. She could see a small neat living room beyond. The furniture seemed to be in good repair though plain. Nothing was fancy here, but it looked like a pleasant place to spend a quiet evening, and before she could step inside, Toby took her in his arms and kissed her, pushing the long dark hair back from her face, and feeling her body next to his, so close he barely dared to breathe for fear he'd lose her. And then he looked down smiling at her, and without a word, he picked her up and carded her over the threshold. "You'll be my wife one day, Victoria Henderson, " he said quietly. "You barely know me now, but you will one day, and you'll be the next Mrs. Whitticomb . . . if you'll have me . . . " He looked boyish and unsure, and totally humble as he looked at her in the small room, his broad shoulders suddenly seeming too big for it, his words almost more than she could cope with. She was the girl who had said she'd never marry anyone, that she wanted to be free, and one day live in Europe, and now here she was, alone with this man, and totally his slave, to do with whatever he wanted. She knew that she shouldn't be alone with him, and that in some ways what they were doing was wrong, and yet how could it be? How could this be anything but right? Anything but perfect? She knew in her heart of hearts just how much she loved him. She had been totally swept away by his heart, his charm, his guileless ways. She trusted him as much as she did her own father. "I love you so much, " she whispered softly, and he kissed her again, and a moment later they were Lying on the couch, kissing passionately, and she could feel his body throbbing beside her. She had no idea what to do, or what he expected of her, and she knew she wouldn't do anything foolish, and yet all she could think of was being here with him, being his, being with him forever. It was Toby who stopped finally, who played with her long hair with his gentle fingers, as her blouse lay open. They put the picnic basket in the kitchen, and he opened the champagne, and they sipped it as she buttoned her blouse again and they went outside to the garden. There were no neighbors nearby, there was no one anywhere, and as they walked around, he explained to her that he had rented this just so he could be alone, and get away from Evangeline, so he could think and dream and have some time to himself. He told Victoria that it was here that he had finally decided to divorce her. "Will you miss the children terribly? " she asked sympathetically, as they walked slowly back to the house, holding hands and talking softly. "I will. But I hope that she'll be reasonable and let me see them. It will be a shock to everyone of course, but I think she'll be relieved too. No one should have to live like this forever. It will be harder on our families than on us, because they won't understand it. " Victoria nodded, as she began to realize with sudden seriousness that it would be a frightful scandal. And undoubtedly, their father would be deeply shocked, but perhaps in time, he'd listen. Victoria had no need to marry him immediately. She didn't care at all, as long as they could be together. And she realized it would be hard for both of them when she went back to Croton. But he could come to visit frequently, and perhaps while he was going through the divorce, it would be better for them, and much more private. It was amazing how one's life changed, she mused, in a matter of days or moments. Suddenly the course of her entire lifetime was set in a different direction from what she had expected. He asked her about being a twin, and he laughed at some of her outrageous stories, and then suddenly they were in the doorway and he was kissing her again. She didn't even know what time it was, or care, all she knew was that she wanted to be with him. They sat in the living room and talked again for a little while, and then he poured her more champagne and they kissed some more, and this time, without thinking or asking her, as they kissed, he slowly took her blouse off. She began to object, to say something, but he silenced her with able lips and nimble fingers, and the force of her own desire almost frightened her as he kissed her, and then slowly let his lips daft from her mouth to her neck, and then slowly down over her breasts to her nipples. She was moaning softly, and he was aching with desire for her, and suddenly she was looking at him, and she knew, as they both did, that their lives had been changed forever. The moment and the lifetime was theirs, the Asks, the dangers, the griefs, the joys, she was willing to share them all with him. And slowly her clothes melted away in his hands, and he lifted her gently in his arms and took her into the bedroom. The shades were drawn, the light was dim, there was a kind of mystical haze all around them it seemed, and with the greatest care and gentleness, the most infinite expertise, he took her. Her body sang and keened for him, her heart long since his, her mind a blur from all that he was doing. And it was hours later when she lay in his arms, startled, but no longer afraid, half asleep, filled with love for him, and completely trusting. She had given him everything she had to give, and she knew without a doubt that she was his forever. It was five o'clock when he woke her at last, and the light had grown a little dimmer. He hated to wake her, but he knew they had to leave. The last thing he wanted for her, or himself, was to cause her any trouble. It was almost a physical pain to tear herself away from him and she dressed quietly as he watched her, totally enthralled with the long, graceful limbs, the beauty of her movements. It was as though he couldn't believe his good fortune in finding her, and she still couldn't quite believe all that had happened. "I will never, ever let you be sorry that you love me, " he said to her before they left, both of them somewhat shaken by the enormous steps they'd taken, and yet she had no regrets. She had cast her lot with his that day, and now they were bound to each other forever. He let her drive part of the way home, and several times she frightened him, but he loved it. They laughed, they sang, they were like two children who had set sail in a tiny boat on a stormy sea, and all they could do now was trust the Fates to protect them. "I love you, Toby Whitticomb, " she said in a strong, clear voice when he dropped her three blocks from home, hating to leave her. "Not as much as I love you. You'll see, you'll be mine one day, " he said proudly, "though I don't deserve you. " "I already am yours, " she whispered, and then kissed his cheek, before stepping back onto the sidewalk, still a little dazed by what she'd done for him, and the enormity of their commitment. She waved as he drove away, her eyes riveted to him for as long as she could see him. They had promised to meet again the next day, at the library again, and they were going back to the little house that was theirs now. Chapter 6. October was fraught with activity for all of them. Edward Henderson had all but concluded an enormous business deal, and he was actually enjoying it greatly. He went to John Watson's office every day, and spent hours at conference tables, surrounded by bankers and attorneys. Olivia had made several friends, and was invited everywhere for luncheons and teas, and although Victoria was invited too, she seldom joined her. She told Olivia she was going to lectures and meetings of the National American Women's Suffrage Association, but Olivia suspected there was more to it than that. She knew instinctively that among the other things she did, she was secretly meeting Toby Whitticomb. Olivia no longer said anything, but she was constantly watching her sister. She saw the changes in her, knew how much in love she must have been, but knew just as well how little she could do to stop it. The Hendersons continued to go to concerts and plays, and at her father's request, Olivia gave two more small dinners. Charles Dawson came to one of them, but he spent much of the evening discussing business with her father. And Olivia was less talkative than usual. She was far too worded about her sister. There seemed to be a silence between them these days, a block of something impenetrable that Olivia felt but could not see or reach through, and whenever she tried to question Victoria about it, she insisted that Olivia was imagining it, nothing between them was any different. Olivia was beginning to long for the time when they would go home, and she could reclaim her sister from her infatuation with Toby. More than ever, she found that she missed her. But in late October, Edward Henderson was saying that he doubted they would go back to Croton until Thanksgiving. He was concluding the sale of the mill, and he thought that being in New York was good for them anyway, it gave them a chance to make friends, and he sometimes winked at them, perhaps even meet husbands. In any case, it was obvious how much they enjoyed it. Olivia was in many ways still the same, but she had honed her social skills and became the perfect hostess. But it was Victoria who seemed to have blossomed into womanhood, and there suddenly seemed to be an aura of something much more sophisticated about her. It was something which no one discussed, but all of those who knew her well had noticed. Olivia had seen it too, but never questioned it openly, she decided that it must have been a style Victoria was affecting in order to appeal to Toby. And Victoria said nothing at all, to anyone, and least of all to her sister. Olivia knew nothing of her twin's trysts with him, and certainly not what was happening at the little house far uptown, where they met each morning, yet she sensed that Victoria's relationship with him had deepened. Olivia knew also that Victoria was avoiding her, and seemed far too busy, which Olivia thought was suspicious. "You haven't tired of our city yet? " Charles Dawson asked Olivia one afternoon when he came to see her father. She had come to oversee the serving of the tea tray, and her father had asked her to stay, since they had concluded their business. "Perhaps a little, " she smiled. "I like it here, but I miss the turning of the leaves in Croton. " "We'll be back soon. " Her father smiled at her, grateful for all her help. For the past two months, she had had the house in New York running to perfection. "You must bring Geoffrey to visit us, " she said warmly to Charles, sorry that she still hadn't met him. "He'd love it, " Charles assured her. "Does he ride? " Charles shook his head regretfully in answer. "Perhaps I could teach him. " "I'm sure he'd like that. " "Where's your sister this afternoon, by the way? " Her father interrupted them, curious about the whereabouts of his other daughter. "Out with friends. The usual. The library. I'm really not sure. She should be back any minute. " "She's certainly out a lot these days, " he smiled at her. He was happy that they had enjoyed New York so much, everyone was enamored with them, and fascinated by the totally identical sisters. Charles left a little while after that, and Victoria was just coming up the front steps as he left. A car drove rapidly away, but no one noticed, and he chatted with her for a moment. There was something odd in her eyes this time, something vague and dreamy, and once again he was struck by how similar she was to her twin, and yet at some vague, mystical level, how different. And yet there were definitely times when he saw them together that he couldn't tell them apart for a single instant. He was still musing about it as he drove home to his son. Thanksgiving and Christmas would be upon them soon, and Charles was dreading them. The holidays had been an agony the year before, without Susan. The Hendersons went to a concert at Carnegie Hall that night, and ran into several acquaintances, among them Tobias Whitticomb who was sharing a box with friends, but his wife was not among them. Someone said that they had heard she was ill, and someone else laughed and volunteered that they had heard she was expecting. Victoria only smiled to herself, knowing that she couldn't be, and that he was leaving her in the very near future. Perhaps they had decided that it was simpler if he went out alone. But whatever the reason, he and Victoria spent most of the evening with their eyes riveted to each other. Her father noticed it this time too, but he said nothing to her on the drive home, and silently hoped that young Whiwcomb had not singled her out as the next object of his affections. "Father saw what happened tonight, " Olivia warned when they undressed, but Victoria brushed her off as she always did now. It pained Olivia constantly to feel the distance between them. It was a physical ache, a visceral pain she never seemed to be Ad of. "Father doesn't know anything, " Victoria said with complete assurance. "What exactly is there to know? " Olivia asked softly, suddenly terrified of how far it had gone, but Victoria didn't even deign to answer, and that night both girls had nightmares. But in the morning, the nightmares came true. John Watson called, as he often did, and asked if he might come by to see Edward Henderson at home on his way to the office. The visit did not seem unusual, and Henderson was always glad to see him. Bertie brought them coffee in the library, and there was a long pause as John sat and watched Edward. When they were alone John still didn't have any idea how to begin what he had to tell him. He thought of his old friend's weak heart, the health that had wavered somewhat in recent years, and yet he knew there was no other choice available to him. He had to tell him. He owed it to Edward. "I'm afraid, " he began slowly, "I have rather bad news. " The two men exchanged a long look. It was like watching a door open to reveal an abyss into which neither of them wanted to leap now. "The sale of the mill has fallen through? " He looked disappointed, but not devastated, but John shook his head in answer. "No, fortunately, all's well there. In fact, we hope to have the entire matter complete by Christmas. " "I thought so, " Edward said, they had worked hard on it, and there had been no suggestion of any problems. "It's personal, I'm afraid. Something that grieves me deeply to tell you, and will grieve you. I talked to Martha about it at great length last night, and we both felt you should know. It's Victoria, Edward. I'm afraid, " he could hardly bang himself to say the words, for fear it would kill his friend, or at best wound him deeply. "She's done a very foolish thing. She's involved with young Whitticomb . . . seriously . . . I'm sorry. " Their eyes met, awfully, and said a thousand unspeakable things between the two men. "Apparently there's a little house just north of town where they meet . . . where they've been meeting. Someone's housekeeper has been seeing them there every day for the past month. I'm afraid she . . . l you can imagine the rest. Oh God, Edward, I'm so sorry, " he said, watching his old friend's eyes fill with tears, but for a moment Edward Henderson said nothing. "Are you sure of this? Who is this woman? Should I speak to her? Perhaps she's Lying. It could be blackmail. " "Possibly. But given the man's reputation, I was inclined to believe the story. I wouldn't have come to you unless I was fairly sure of it. " And then, "Do you want me to speak to him? Perhaps we both should. " "I might kill him, if it's true, " Edward said grimly. "I just can't believe that of Victoria. She's impulsive occasionally, and she's not above driving my cars or stealing my favorite horse from time to time for a nice fast ride over the fields, or even through my best garden. But not this, John . . . not this . . . I just can't believe it of her. " "Neither can I. But she's very young, and naive. I believe he's quite adept at this. The woman says that he keeps the house just for that purpose. " "The man belongs in prison. " "And if it's true? What about your daughter? She can't marry him. He already is married, with a house full of children, an aristocratic wife, and I understand from Martha that she's expecting another baby. I'm afraid this is quite grim. " "Do you suppose anyone knows? " Edward's eyes met his squarely, though he hated asking the question. But for Watson, this was almost the worst part. "He said something to Lionel Matheson at his club a few days ago. I didn't believe it when I heard it then. Someone in the office told me. The man is obviously a complete lout if he's willing to destroy a young girl's reputation. He told Matheson that he was having an affair with a sweet young thing who had no idea what time it was, and when he was through with her, there was an identical sister. He didn't mention any names, but given that comment, he doesn't have to. " Edward Henderson went pale, and if John Watson hadn't been there, he would have gone straight upstairs to see his daughters. "You'll have to do something about this quickly, " Watson said what was already clear to both of them, he's making comments like that, it'll be all over town in no time. What about sending her to Europe for a while, on a tap somewhere . . anywhere . . . just to get her away from here, and from him. But after that, you'll have to think seriously about her future. You'll have to do something. You can't just leave this as it is, it'll ruin her. She'll never find a husband after this, or if she does, it won't be someone you'd want for her. " "I know that, " Edward Henderson said miserably, grateful to his old friend for his honesty, yet agonized over what he'd been hearing. "I'll have to think this out. I'll send her back to Croton tomorrow. But after that, I'm not sure. Europe's not the answer . . . I don't know what to do with her. I'd force him to marry her if I could, but what the devil am I supposed to do with a married man with four children? " "Shoot him, " John Watson said, trying to inject a little humor where there was precious little, but Edward shot a wintry smile at him and nodded. "Believe me, I'd like to. I think I should speak to him. I'd like to know what happened. " "I don't think you should do that, it's fairly obvious, and you'll upset yourself for nothing. I'd like to think that he's sincere, though I doubt it, but even if he is, what will that do for Victoria? He can't marry her. He can't possibly divorce Evangeline, certainly not if she's having another child. The scandal would be appalling. The best thing Victoria can do is forget him. " "Try telling her that if she's truly in love with him. I saw them dancing and even flirting once or twice, but I never imagined it would go this far. I should have seen all this. I don't know what I was thinking. No wonder she's out all the time. " He was wringing his hands and blaming himself for all of it, and by the time John Watson left, Edward Henderson was thoroughly agitated. It was a nightmare. The two men had agreed finally that Watson would go and speak to Toby Whitticomb, and Edward would stay out of it completely. It seemed far more discreet this way, and Watson was afraid Edward's heart would give out if he went to confront Toby. In fact, John went straight from the Henderson home to Toby Whitticomb's office, where Toby seldom went anyway, but by sheer chance, he happened to be in that mornin g. Victoria had had a dentist's appointment, and he was hoping to meet her afterwards, once she got Ad of her sister. But the story John heard from him was even more dismaying than what they'd gathered so far. He was quite gentlemanly, if you could call it that, and assured John that he wouldn't see the girl again now that the affair had come to light. It was all in good fun, he said. He said she was quite wild, and that it was she who said she was accustomed to pursuing married men. There had never, ever, been any promises made, no hope of a future certainly, since he and Evangeline were quite happy, within reason, despite what one may have heard, and of course John knew, he assumed, that Evangeline was expecting again. And there had never been any mention of anything so scandalous as his leaving her. That was quite obviously out of the question. It was simply a matter of a young girl run wild, and he had been, according to him, her victim. He said she had literally seduced him. And he looked rather startled as he said it. John Watson didn't believe a word of it, and he was sure now that the whole story he'd heard previously was true. Victoria had in fact had an affair with him, and he was equally sure that she had been the victim and not Toby. More than likely, he had made outrageous promises to her, lied to her, did God knows what else to her, and seduced her. She was young and naive and he was very glamorous, in his own disgusting way. It was all quite obvious to John, though sickening certainly, and the big question now was what to do with her future. He was back at the Henderson house at noon and told Edward as much as he dared to. He softened most of it, but the final word was that she had been involved with Whitticomb, and Whitticomb in turn was more than happy to end it. He certainly didn't want any trouble. But what they could do for Victoria now, socially, remained a serious problem. If nothing was done at all, and Toby talked, she was ruined, no one decent would ever go near her. Edward thanked John once more when he left the house again, and he looked gray by the time Victoria and Olivia returned from the dentist. It had been an incredibly painful morning for him, and he was filled with despair as he stood in the doorway of the library and spoke to his daughters. "We're going home in the morning, Olivia, " he boomed with a terrifying look, as he glared at both of them. He couldn't help wondering if Olivia had known and concealed her sister's dark secret, and blamed her silently for the deception. "Please pack and close the house at once. Do what you can today, and whatever you don't finish, we'll leave and some of the others to finish after we've left. " He looked so stern that Olivia almost trembled. "We're leaving now? So soon? But I thought . . . you said . . . " She looked totally stunned by his announcement. "I said we're leaving, " he shouted at her, which was very rare for him, but he was overwhelmed by the events of the morning. And then he turned to Victoria, and without a single word, beckoned her to him. She felt her legs dissolve under her as she looked at him, and then glanced at her sister. It was obvious to both of them that something terrible had happened. "Is something wrong? " Olivia asked softly, and for a long moment, he didn't answer. He just stood there silently, waiting for Victoria to join him. And as soon as she walked into the library, he closed the door resoundingly behind her. Olivia stood in the hall, staring at it, with her hat still on, wondering what was going on, and suddenly afraid that he had found out that Victoria was sneaking out of the house to meet Toby. But she couldn't imagine who had told him. And Victoria had been foolish certainly, but she wasn't a criminal, though that was how he had looked at her. She had never seen her father so angry. Olivia hurried into the kitchen then to tell Bertie what had happened, or what she knew of it, and that they were leaving in the morning. She was just as surprised as they were, and within moments, the two women were bustling everywhere, taking out boxes and suitcases and issuing orders and directions. It was going to be impossible to do everything, but her father had been quite clear. They were leaving in the morning, and she was to do what she could now. The rest would be done by servants. As the two women worked frantically, with their aprons on, Victoria was sobbing in the library as her father watched her. / "You've ruined yourself, Victoria. That's the beginning and the end of it. You have absolutely no future. None. There isn't a decent man alive who would have you. " Just saying the words to her sickened him, and listening to her sob made his heart ache. He didn't even want to know what had happened between them, yet he couldn't bear to believe that she had been callous or cheap about it. The man must have promised her the moon in order to take advantage of her. She was sobbing miserably, but she looked up at him then bleakly. "I've never wanted to be married anyway, " she said, as though that made a difference now. It was one thing to stupidly say you would never marry, it was another to be a pariah, and know that no one would have you. "Is that why you did this? Because you didn't care? Did you want to ruin your future . . . perhaps even your sister's future? And our family reputation? " All she could do was shake her head and cry in answer. "Did he promise you anything? Did he promise to marry you, Victoria? " She wouldn't look at her father, her eyes just stared at her lap as she wrung her hands and cried, and nodded. "How could he? What was he thinking of? The man is a complete rotter. I never should have brought him into this house. It's all my fault. " Her father then told her that Toby had begun making remarks about her, had told men in his club that he was sleeping with her. He had behaved like a complete cad, and had told John Watson that it was entirely her fault, that she had seduced him. He was almost in tears as he spoke to her, and then finally she told him, as much as she dared, as much as she could now. "He told me he'd never been in love with anyone but me, that he'd never felt this way about anyone. . . . " She sobbed miserably, but her father did not approach her. "He said they were getting divorced, that it was a loveless marriage, and he was going to leave her, and marry me. " So the girl who hadn't wanted to marry had wanted to after all. For all her brave, new ideas, she was a complete child, and a romantic. "And you believed him? " He looked horrified, and she nodded. "What were you doing alone with him in the first place? " That appalled him too and made him realize that he had to monitor them both much more closely, though Olivia certainly never went anywhere, or did anything she wasn't supposed to. "I thought we'd just meet for the afternoon. I never intended . . I never thought . . . I wouldn't have . . . oh Father . . . " It was a hideous wail, not so much even for the grief she had caused him, but for the horror of realizing that Toby had betrayed her. He had told John Watson that it was nothing more than a casual affair, and that she had seduced him . . . not that he had told her he loved her more than life itself and promised to marry her. She could hardly believe how incredibly stupid she had been, and how totally he had betrayed her. He was every bit as bad as people said he was, and worse. He had lied to her from beginning to end, and she had believed him. With a look of total despair, her father asked her one final question. "I don't suppose you'll tell me the truth about this, but I'm going to ask you anyway. Did your sister know about this, Victoria? Has she been aware of what you were doing? " Victoria was almost unable to speak by then, but she shook her head and looked him squarely in the eye. "No, she didn't, " she whispered. "She saw us dance at the Astors', at their ball, and we had a terrible argument. She said everything I should have known myself . . . but I didn't believe her. I never told her what was happening. I think she knew I had seen him once or twice, but not . . . not the rest . . . " She was so ashamed now that he knew, she could barely face him. And soon the entire town would know, if Toby made a laughingstock of her. She was glad suddenly that they were going back to Croton. She never wanted to see New York again, or any of the people in it. The story they were going to tell was that one of the twins had fallen ill, and they had had to return to Croton at once. It was in fact going to become a very long bout of influenza. In fact, like his daughter, Edward had absolutely no desire whatsoever to return to New York now. Nothing good ever happened to them there. His wife had died there, the girls' first presentation to society had been little more than a circus act for them, and this second go-around had led to complete disaster. Edward Henderson doubted very much that he would ever bring them down again from Croton. But as he looked at Victoria, he / knew that for her, despite what she said, it was not yet over. And he knew he had to address her on the subject. "I forbid you to ever see him again, Victoria, is that clear? The man doesn't care about you. He denied you, he ridiculed you, he betrayed you. If he had told John that you were the love of his life and he didn't know what to do now, it would have been a different story. I don't think it would have ended any differently, but you could have gone to your grave fifty years from now, hopefully, knowing that the man truly loved you. You could have clung to that in your darkest hours. You have nothing to cling to now except your own disgrace, the shreds of the reputation you've destroyed that can never be repaired again, and the fact that you were used by a complete cad who thought nothing of you. I want you to remember that. Perhaps there will be some way to redeem you one day. I want to think about that. But in the meantime, have no illusions about this man. And remember, " he boomed at her and she trembled as she listened, "I forbid you to see him. Do you understand me? " "Yes, sir. " She nodded and blew her nose again, trying to stifle fresh sobs, but she just couldn't. He had said it all far too clearly. And there was no hiding from it now. It was a total nightmare. "Now go to your room and stay there until we leave in the morning. " She slipped out of the library as quickly as she could, and ran straight upstairs, grateful that there was no one in the hallway. Bertie and Olivia were in the attic by then, opening trunks and collecting their valises, and by the time they came downstairs again, Victoria had run swiftly down the stairs and out the front door, wearing a black dress and a hat with a veil that concealed her face entirely. She had heard what her father had said, but she had to hear it for herself this time. It was impossible to believe. Maybe John Watson was lying. She had taken a cab to his office, and had almost collided with him on the steps just as he was leaving. He looked as handsome as ever, but startled to see who it was, and not particularly pleased to see her. "I have to speak to you, " she said, fighting back tears, as Toby looked down at her with obvious irritation. "Why didn't you just send another lawyer? What did you think you were going to do? Pressure me into leaving her this week? What's the hurry?" "I had nothing to do with that. Someone told my father's attorney that you made a remark about me, that we were having an affair, and he told my father. And apparently, someone's seen us at the cottage. " "Oh so what, for God's sake. You're a big girl, Miss Modern I Never Want to Get Married. You knew what was going on. You just wanted to hear all the pretty words, but you knew exactly what it was all about, and don't tell me you didn't. " She looked shocked at the harshness of what he was saying, and wished they could go somewhere to talk, but he clearly didn't want to. He made no move off the steps, and did not invite her to go back into the building, to his office. "What was it all about? I don't know what to think now. " She asked him fearfully, as she stood there trembling, the heavy veil concealing the tears that flowed down her cheeks in silence. "It was about then, this is now. It was fun. It was great fun. I would do it all over again in a minute. But that's all it was, a good time for a short time. All you damn women are the same, you have to pretend you're going to get a gold ring at the end of it. Don't tell me how modern you are, you're just as dishonest as the rest of them. You don't want to go to bed with a man unless you get a wedding ring out of it. How real is that? Do you really think I'm going to be able to leave Evangeline and three kids . . . four now . . . do you really think she'd let me go? Or that this is the love of my life? How the hell would I know after two days? How do you? All you knew was what I knew, what was between your legs and what you wanted there, so don't tell me any pretty stories. That was it, baby, a good time, and we had it. And don't tell me you thought I was leaving her. The Astors would kill me, and you know it. So we were playing. We both played. And if you talk, so will I. I'll tell everyone just how good you were . . . and you were good, baby... . you were great. " He tipped his hat to her, and bowed low, and when he came up with a smirk on his face, she slapped him hard and a woman walking past them looked startled. I "You're a bastard, Toby Whitticomb, " she said, as the tears flowed faster. She had never heard anything as disgusting as what he'd just said to her. He had only used her, and he didn't even have the grace to admit it. He tried to blame it on her too, to cheapen her, and make her think that she'd never loved him. The sad thing was that she had, far too much. She had been incredibly stupid. "I've been called that before, " he smiled, "by people who really know too, not just by babies. " She had been a complete innocent, easy prey for him, and he knew it. He had taken every advantage of her, and didn't give a damn what it did to her now, or what even happened. "We're leaving tomorrow, " she said miserably, as though she still expected him to stop her, but of course he wouldn't.