Casteel 05 Web of Dreams

by V. C. Andrews

Tony and I looked quickly at each other again. Momma caught our glance.

  "What?"

  "I took Leigh to Leone's while we waited for news about Troy," Tony confessed.

  "You two ate? And without me?" she cried.

  "Well, you were home and . ."

  "That's fine," she said suddenly, her look of disappointment disappearing. "Just have the servants bring up something light," she sang, her mood changing so fast it made my head spin. "I'm not really up to going down and sitting at the table anyway. It will take me at least another day to get back to myself," she said, sounding as if she had been the one in the hospital, instead of someone who had just returned from a wonderful honeymoon in Europe.

  "Fine," Tony said. He stepped forward and leaned over to kiss her, but she leaned away as if he were going to mess up her hair. It was something she often did when Daddy tried to kiss her. Tony looked embarrassed.

  "I'm still very tired," she offered as an excuse. He nodded and left quickly.

  The moment he was out the door, Momma beckoned me closer, her eyes wide with emphasis.

  "Oh Leigh, you just can't imagine how difficult it has been."

  "What?" I had no idea what she meant.

  "Spending these last several days with a man as young and strong as Tony. He never needs to nap and he dresses in a flash," she said with irritation and envy. "Somebody up there must like him." Her delicate eyebrows rose as if in exasperation.

  "Then you didn't have a good time on your honeymoon?" I asked to confirm what Tony had told me.

  "I did and I didn't. He's so athletic, up at the crack of dawn and expecting me to be dressed and ready for breakfast; and when I complained, he became upset. Can you imagine the lack of consideration? How did he expect me to go down to that dining room without being properly made up and dressed? I sent him down without me, actually glad to get rid of him so I could prepare myself without him watching. He was always finished and ready to go out before I had spent half the time I needed. That annoyed him, but I told him he didn't have to wait for me. I told him to just go right ahead and do his sliding up and down those cold hills.

  "You would think that a day of that laborious activity would leave him exhausted. But no . . . he would return every afternoon actually invigorated and you can just guess what a man of Tony's youth and vitality is like when he is invigorated."

  She saw the look of confusion on my face and smirked.

  "He makes love like it's going to be for the last time, practically raping me," she explained. The blood rushed into my face to hear her make reference to something so intimate. "And once it's over and you expect to have a chance to catch your breath, he's at it again. I felt like some strumpet.

  "Why, even in the middle of the night, he would nudge me awake, shock me out of a restful slumber, and want to be amorous. It didn't matter that I was not fully awake. He was angry because I didn't respond the way he hoped I would.

  "Well, I couldn't. I wouldn't. I'm not going to sacrifice my health and beauty to satisfy a young man's animal appetite," she added determinedly.

  I didn't know what to say. Momma made it sound as if lovemaking was an ordeal, but that wasn't the way it was described in books I had read.

  "Oh Leigh," she cried turning to me and taking my hands into hers, "you've got to be my best friend, my ally more than ever now. Will you? Will you?"

  "Of course I will," I replied, even though again I had no idea what she meant.

  "Good, because Tony likes you and doesn't mind spending time with you. I can see that. It was good that you went to dinner with him in Boston. I'm going to need you to help keep him amused and happy. He requires so much attention and demands so much affection. It's absolutely life draining!" she cried.

  "Not that I don't love him. I do. I adore him. I just never expected he would be so . . so virile . so hungry for sex. If I don't had ways to keep him at bay, he'll deplete me, rob me of my vibrancy.

  "Yes," she said before I could react, "I've seen that happen to other women. Their husbands are so demanding that they become old before their time and then their husbands go looking elsewhere for satisfaction. A woman has to guard her beauty like a precious jewel, keep it encased, protected, permit men to look upon her, gaze at her longingly, but rarely touch because every touch absorbs, takes away, diminishes.

  "Tony wants me by his side constantly. He wants me there whenever he has the urge to kiss me, to take my hand, to embrace me, and then, to take me."

  I thought that sounded wonderful----to have a man need and want you that much. And after all, wasn't her big complaint about Daddy that he didn't spend enough time with her, that he didn't want her as much as he wanted his business? Now she found a man who was devoted to her, who worshipped her, and she felt threatened by it. How confusing.

  She was quiet for a moment as she

  contemplated a line under her eyes. Then she sighed and dipped her finger into a skin cream.

  "Oh Leigh," she said as she worked on herself and looked in the mirror, "I'm afraid you'll have to come home weekends from Winterhaven more often than I had anticipated. Tony wants to go on skiing weekends and take little honeymoons frequently. He expects me to fly off with him for three days here and three days there. Such a vigorous pace will age me."

  She turned to me again and took my hands again.

  "You'll help me, won't you? You'll spend time with him, too, and keep him distracted. A young girl has so much more energy. Maybe you'll be able to tire him out so that he won't come at me like some kind of Casanova at night. Oh please, Leigh, say you will."

  I didn't know what to say. What was I agreeing to do? But I saw how much she wanted me to say yes.

  "I will, Momma. I'll come home often."

  "Thank you, Leigh. Thank you. I knew you were old enough to understand." She hugged me quickly. "It's so wonderful having a daughter old enough to be more like a sister to me.

  "Now let me show you all the things I bought in Europe. I bought you some pretty sweaters, too. Did you like your Christmas presents?" she asked without taking a breath.

  "I saw that your father sent you something. What was it?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing and filled with suspicion.

  "This locket," I said and held it out. She glanced at it quickly. She didn't ask me to open it.

  "Very nice," she said and turned to all the things she had brought back from Europe.

  Troy continued to improve and was a great deal better the following day. I accompanied Tony one more time to visit him before I began my schooling at Winterhaven. Momma was true to all her vows. Beauty had become her religion; she worshipped her own image in the mirror and she proceeded with a new frenzy to win back the vitality she claimed she had lost on her honeymoon. Not only did she refuse to go to the hospital, but she began to rise later and later every morning, and then she spent hours at her vanity table before descending the stairs to have breakfast and meet people.

  I saw that Tony grew more and more upset about her, charging up the stairs in the morning to get her to come down and join us for breakfast, and then returning, his face long, his eyes drooping with defeat. Then, the night before I was to begin my session at Winterhaven, I heard them have their first spat. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was on my way to speak to Momma about the wardrobe I was to take to school. It was a little after nine o'clock in the evening, but Momma had already gone up to her suite to rest and read one of her romance novels, something she was doing more and more of lately. I had just entered the sitting room when I heard Tony say, "We might as well not be married." I froze in my steps. He wasn't yelling so much as he was pleading.

  "I won't have you threaten my health with your lust," Momma replied.

  "But Tinian, making love doesn't diminish your health. If anything, you should feel more complete, more fulfilled as a woman."

  "Oh poo. That's something only a man would dream of saying. Honestly, Tony, you're behaving like a schoolboy who has just discovered sex. I'm disappointed in your lack
of self-control."

  "Lack of self control!" Tony thundered. "You were too tired midway into our honeymoon, and every day after that you found one excuse or another, and now we've been home three nights, and you still haven't the strength to make love and I'm accused of a lack of self-control?"

  "Lower your voice, please. Do you want the servants to hear this?" Momma hissed. "I told you," she said in a softer tone, "I just need a little more time. Please, Tony, please be understanding. Sleep in your own room tonight again. Maybe tomorrow . ."

  "I fear that tomorrow you'll have another excuse," he said in a tone of defeat. "I don't know what you're saving it for," he suddenly snapped. "Or do you expect to have another, even younger husband some day?"

  Before I could turn to leave, he came storming out of Momma's bedroom. He stopped when he saw me standing there, my eyes big. His face softened some, but he said nothing. He simply continued to leave. I waited a few minutes and then went in to discuss my wardrobe with Momma, pretending I hadn't heard anything.

  "Remember your promise to me, Leigh," she said before I left. "You'll come home as much as you can and spend as much time with Tony as you can. I need help, at least during these early days of my new marriage."

  "But Momma, he won't want to spend his time with me. He married you; he'll want to be with you."

  "He just needs companionship. You'll see. Oh dear," she said gazing at herself in the mirror. "All this tension has put bags under my eyes."

  I saw no bags.

  "I must get a good night's rest. Sleep well, dear, and have a good first day at your new school."

  "But aren't you coming along, too?" My heart began to race with fear.

  "Please, Leigh. You don't need me. Tony's taking care of everything, just as he promised. He'll take you and talk to the headmistress and see that you're comfortable and secure. Then he's going off to his offices. It will work out fine."

  "But . . ."

  "I must get some rest." She snapped off her reading light. "Good night, Leigh."

  I swung my eyes away quickly, disgusted, angry--angrier than Tony perhaps. I knew why she didn't want to come along. She didn't want the world to know she had a daughter as old as I was. She wanted to continue this charade of youth. She was so determined I would be like a sister to her that in her mind I was her sister, not her daughter. She wouldn't do the things other mothers did; not if she could help it. At this moment I despised her, despised her for everything--for the pain and suffering she brought to Daddy and to me with the divorce, for being so selfcentered, and for lying to me all these years. I was so angry, I couldn't fall asleep for the longest time.

  When I opened my eyes, I found Tony standing at my bedside staring down at me, smiling. He looked as if he had been standing there for quite a while. I had tossed and turned throughout the night, and my blanket was wrapped around my waist. My nightgown hung low, nearly exposing my breasts to his view.

  "Good morning," he said. "Didn't mean to startle you, but I could tell you hadn't risen yet, and we have to keep to a schedule this morning. I want to start in about an hour, okay?"

  I nodded quickly, pulling the blanket to my chin.

  "I'll have Miles come up and get your bags in twenty minutes. See you at breakfast," he added and left.

  I rose quickly, showered and dressed. On my way down to breakfast, I saw that Momma's doors were still shut tight. I didn't bother to go in to say goodbye.

  eleven WINTERHAVEN

  . It was a very clear morning when we set out for Boston and my new school, but the soft blue sky was deceptive because when I stepped out of the mansion, the air was so cold, I felt as if I had stepped into a refrigerator. The bright sunlight reflecting off the hard-packed snow made me squint. Tony laughed at my grimace and gave me his sunglasses.

  "Here. Put these on. I have another pair in the limo," he said.

  "But these are a man's sunglasses."

  "No, I got them in Europe. They're unisex, and very expensive, I might add. Your mother bought two pairs, although I don't know when she will use them. She hasn't been out of the house since our return," he muttered and gestured for me to get into the car ahead of him. There was a Wall Street Journal and a thick folder of papers on the seat. "I usually read and work on my way into town," he explained. "But I'll put all that aside today since I have such pretty company."

  I looked away quickly. I knew he was trying to be nice because he had seen how upset I was about Momma's not coming along, but I wasn't feeling pretty, nor was I in a good mood. I felt trapped, forced to go to places I didn't want to go to and do things I didn't want to do, all because it was what made Momma happy. She seemed always to get what she wanted, and without any of the accompanying hardships or effort. She was upstairs, comfortably in bed.

  "You're going to love Winterhaven," he said as Miles drove off. "The main building used to be a church and the bell tower is still there. It chimes for each passing hour, and at twilight, they play melodies.

  "All the buildings have names and form a half circle. There's an underground passageway that connects the five buildings. Students use it when snow makes walking difficult. You'll be staying in the main building, Beecham Hall. It houses the dorms and the dining rooms, and the assemblies are held there as well."

  "If it's an all-girls school, how do you know so much about it, Tony?" I asked sharply. I didn't mean to take my anger out on him, but I couldn't help myself. He smiled and gazed out his window for a long moment. I thought he wasn't going to-explain, but then he turned back to me, his eyes glassy.

  "I used to know a girl who went there," he replied softly.

  "Oh? Was she a girlfriend?" I asked petulantly. He either ignored or didn't hear my irritable, sarcastic tone. His smile widened and he nodded.

  "Yes. She was a very pretty, very sweet girl . . . almost angelic, I thought. She was never unhappy, but she had so much compassion and love in her that she cried if she heard a mouse had been caught in a trap." His eyes grew dreamier and dreamier as he recalled more and more about her. "She had a soft voice and a small, perfect heart-shaped face. She was childlike, innocent and very gentle. No matter how sad or depressed I was when I saw her, in moments I felt happy and alive again."

  "What happened to her?" I wondered why he hadn't married such a wonderful person.

  "She was killed in a car accident in Europe while on holiday with her parents . . . one of those treacherous mountain roads. I really knew her only a short while, but . . anyway," he said quickly, "she attended Winterhaven, and I would meet her there, so I got to know it well.

  "Actually, Jillian reminded me a lot of her. She has that same perfect face, that same soft look, a look artists seek. You have it too, Leigh," he added turning back to me quickly.

  "Me? No, I don't look that much like Momma. My eyes are too close together and my nose is so much bigger."

  "Nonsense," he insisted. "You are too modest. Some of it should rub off on your mother," he said with surprising bitterness. "She's driving me mad, you know. But," he said quickly, "that's my problem. Today, we must see to your happiness and your wellbeing." He settled back to enjoy the ride.

  Was I being too modest? Was I really becoming pretty or was Tony just saying it to cheer me up? Beside Daddy, no other man really complimented me so lavishly. Was that because I was still young or was it because only daddies and stepfathers would say such things to me? Certainly my hair was becoming as rich and as soft as Momma's, and we had the same color eyes. Was it wrong for me to hope I would be as beautiful, even more beautiful?

  "There," Tony said, pointing, when we approached the school, "see what I mean?"

  Winterhaven did have an elegant and special look to it. It was nestled snugly in its own small campus of bare winter trees with evergreens relieving the bleakness. The main building was white clapboard, gleaming in the early morning sunshine. I had expected a stone building, one of brick.

  As soon as we arrived, a man from the school came out to collect my luggage and
wheel it away on a cart. Tony gestured toward the administrative offices. He saw the look of trepidation on my face. It was a new school with new teachers and new friends to make. I couldn't help being nervous. This was the time a girl needed her mother beside her to comfort her, but mine was probably still in bed, her face covered with overnight creams, I thought disdainfully.

  "Don't look so frightened. You'll do fine here. I saw your school grades, and as for making friends, all the girls in this place will trip over themselves trying to get you to be their companion. Except for those who will be terribly jealous and angry that the new girl is so pretty," he added. His smile gave me strength to climb the steps.

  I was surprised by what I found. I had expected something like a posh hotel lobby, but what I saw looked very austere. It was very clean, with highly waxed hardwood floors. The walls were off-white, and the moldings were elaborate and darkly stained. Potted ferns and other household plants were scattered here and there on tables and beside straight-backed, hard-looking chairs to relieve the starkness of the white walls. From the foyer I could see the reception room that was a bit cozier, with its fireplace and carefully arranged chintz-covered sofas and chairs.

  Tony led me to the office of the headmistress, Miss Mallory, a stout, affable woman who shone on both of us a wide, warm smile.

  "Welcome to Winterhaven, Miss VanVoreen," she said. "It's an honor and a privilege to have the daughter of the owner of the country's most famous luxury ocean liners attending our school." She kept smiling at Tony. I estimated her to be in her mid- to upper twenties, perhaps young for her position, although her high-pitched voice and granny glasses made her seem much older. She had her dark brown hair pinned tightly into a bun and wore no makeup, not even lipstick. She seemed a bit insecure, but from the way Momma had described Tony's influence with the school, I imagined he could have an effect on her future. The school had an expensive tuition, but really existed on the basis of the contributions rich people like Tony made.

  "I know Mr. Tatterton is a busy man, so let's move quickly. I imagine he wants to see your living quarters," she said smiling again at Tony. "I'll show you your dormitory room myself," she said, "and afterward, you and I can get to know each other a lot better when I describe your program to you. I planned it for you personally," she added, raising her eyebrows to impress Tony. He didn't change expression.