Twin of Fire

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Twin of Fire Page 2

by Jude Deveraux


  Blair had been honored that Houston had given her this power, and she’d taken her responsibility seriously. She’d been a little disappointed when she’d met Leander and found that he wasn’t a man at all but just a tall, slim, good-looking boy who rarely said anything. Blair had always liked the boys who ran and threw rocks and taught her how to whistle with two fingers in her mouth. After a few initial unpleasant encounters with him, she had begun to see what people liked about Lee after Jimmy Summers had fallen out of a tree and broken his leg. None of the other children had known what to do and just stood back and watched Jimmy cry in pain, but Lee had taken over and sent someone for the doctor and someone else for Mrs. Summers. Blair had been quite impressed with him and, as she’d turned toward Houston, Houston had nodded her head once, as if to say that this episode had reaffirmed her decision to become Mrs. Leander Westfield.

  Blair was willing to admit that Leander did have a few good qualities about him, but she’d never really liked him. He was too sure of himself, too smug…too perfect. Of course, she had never told Houston she didn’t like him and, too, she had thought maybe he’d change, become more human as he grew older. He didn’t.

  A few days earlier, Lee had come to pick up Houston to take her to an afternoon tea and, since Opal was out and Mr. Gates at work, Blair had a chance to talk to Lee while Houston finished dressing—it usually took her an eternity to get fastened into one of those lace and silk concoctions she always wore.

  Blair thought that they’d have a common ground for conversation since they were both doctors, and that he’d no longer antagonize her as he had at one time.

  “I’ll be interning at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Philadelphia next month,” she began, when they were seated in the front parlor. “It’s supposed to be an excellent hospital.”

  Leander just looked at her with that piercing look of his that he’d had since he was a child. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

  “I wonder,” she continued, “do you think it would be possible for me to make rounds with you at the Chandler Infirmary? Maybe you could give me some pointers that I could use when I start training next month.”

  Lee took an infuriatingly long time to answer. “I don’t think that would be advisable,” was all he said at last.

  “I thought that between doctors…”

  “I’m not sure the Board of Directors would consider a woman a fully qualified doctor. I might be able to get you into the women’s hospital.”

  In school, they’d been warned that they would be treated like this at times. “It may surprise you to know that I plan to specialize in abdominal surgery. Not all female doctors want to become glorified midwives.”

  Leander arched one brow and looked her up and down in an annoying way that made Blair wonder if all the men in Chandler believed that women were idiots who shouldn’t be let out of the house.

  Still, she was determined not to judge him. After all, they were adults now and childhood animosities should be put aside. If he was the man Houston wanted, then she should have him—Blair didn’t have to live with him.

  But days later, after she’d spent time with her sister, she began to question the idea of a marriage between Leander and Houston, because, if anything, Houston was even more rigid when Lee was present. The two of them rarely spoke to each other, nor was there any of the putting of heads together and giggling as there was between most engaged couples. They were certainly not like she and Alan, Blair thought.

  And tonight, at dinner, things seemed to come to a head. Blair was tired from the constant harassment of Gates, and she was sick at seeing her sister in this horrible atmosphere of oppression. When Gates kept after Blair, she exploded and told him that he had ruined Houston’s life, but he wasn’t going to ruin hers, too.

  Blair regretted having said that as soon as it was out and she meant to apologize, but just then his royal highness, Leander Westfield, entered and everyone looked up at him as if a demigod had come into the room. Blair had a vision of Houston as a virgin sacrifice to be given to this cold, unfeeling man. And when Leander dared to call Houston his bride, as if he already owned her, Blair could stand no more and ran from the table in tears.

  She had no idea how long she had been crying before her mother came to her, held her in her arms and cradled her like a child.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” Opal whispered, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Are you so very homesick? I know Mr. Gates hasn’t made your visit pleasant, but he means well. He wants you to have a home and children and he’s afraid that, if you’re a doctor, no man will have you. You won’t have to stay with us much longer, then you can go back to Henry and Flo and start work at the hospital.”

  Her mother’s words made Blair cry harder. “It’s not me,” she sobbed. “I can leave. I can get out of here. It’s Houston. She’s so miserable and it’s all my fault. I went off and left her to that awful man and now she’s so very unhappy.”

  “Blair,” Opal said firmly, “Mr. Gates is my husband and, whatever else he is, I respect him and I cannot allow you to speak that way about him.”

  Blair raised tear-stained eyes to her mother. “I don’t mean him. He’s here now, but Houston can get away from him. I mean that Leander.”

  “Lee?” Opal asked, incredulous. “But Leander is a darling boy. Why, every young lady in Chandler was dying to be asked for even a dance with him, and now Houston is going to marry him. You can’t mean you’re worried about Houston marrying Lee?”

  Blair moved away from her mother. “I have always been the only one to see what he’s like! Have you ever really looked at Houston when he’s around? She freezes! She sits there as if she’s afraid of the world and of him in particular. Houston used to laugh and have a good time, but now she doesn’t even smile. Oh, mother, right now I wish that I’d never left. If I’d stayed here, I could have prevented Houston from agreeing to marry that man.” She ran back to her mother and buried her face in her lap.

  Opal smiled down at her daughter, pleased by her caring concern. “No, you shouldn’t have stayed here,” she said softly. “You would have become like Houston and believed that the only thing a woman can do is to make a home for her husband, and then the world would have lost a fine doctor. Look at me.” She lifted Blair’s face.

  “We can’t really know what Houston and Lee are like when they’re alone. No one can know what’s in another’s personal life. I imagine you have a few secrets of your own.”

  Immediately, Blair thought of Alan and her cheeks pinked. But now was not the time to talk of him. He’d be here in a few days, and then maybe she’d have someone who agreed with her.

  “But I can see the way they are,” Blair persisted. “They never talk, never touch, I never see either one of them look at the other with love.” Blair stood. “And, the truth is, I never have been able to stand that pompous, upright, shining citizen, Leander Westfield. He’s one of those spoiled rich kids who’s been handed everything on a silver platter. He has never known disappointment or hardship or struggle or ever heard the word no. When I was in school, the neighboring male medical school allowed the top five women from my female college to attend some classes. The men were quite polite until we women began to score better on the tests than they did—and then we were asked to leave before the end of the term. Leander reminds me of all those smug young men who couldn’t stand the competition.”

  “But, dear, do you really think that’s fair? Just because Lee reminds you of others doesn’t mean that he’s actually like them.”

  “I’ve tried several times to talk to him about medicine and all he does is stare at me. What if Houston decides she wants to do something with her life besides match his socks? He’ll come down harder on her than Gates ever has on me, and it won’t be temporary, either. Houston won’t be able to get away.”

  Opal was beginning to frown. “Have you talked to Houston? I’m sure that she can explain to you why she loves Leander. Perhaps in private they’re different.
I do think she loves him. And no matter what you say, Leander is a good man.”

  “So is Duncan Gates,” Blair said under her breath. But she was learning that “good” men could kill a woman’s soul.

  Chapter 2

  Blair tried her best to talk to Houston, tried to reason with her, but Houston just got a tight look on her face and said that she loved Leander. Blair wanted to cry in frustration, but as she followed her sister downstairs, she began to concoct a plan. They were going into town today, Blair to pick up a medical journal Alan was sending in care of the Chandler Chronicle office and Houston to do some shopping, and they were going with Lee.

  So far, she’d been polite to Leander, but what if she forced him to show his true colors? What if she made him show what an unmoveable, hardheaded tyrant he really was? If she could prove that Lee was as oppressive and narrow-minded as Duncan Gates, then maybe Houston would reconsider spending her life with him.

  Of course, Blair could be wrong about Lee. And if she was, if Lee was a considerate, open-minded man—like Alan—then Blair would sing the loudest at Houston’s wedding.

  As soon as they reached the first floor, there was Leander waiting.

  She was mute as she followed the two of them out the door. They never looked at each other and certainly never touched. Houston just walked slowly, probably because her corset was so tight she couldn’t breathe, Blair thought, and allowed Lee to help her into his old, black carriage.

  “Do you think a woman can be anything besides a wife and mother?” Blair asked Lee, when he started to help her into the carriage. She kept Houston in her corner vision, to make sure her sister heard Lee’s answer.

  “You don’t like children?” he asked, surprised.

  “I like children very much,” she answered quickly.

  “Then I guess it’s men you don’t like.”

  “Of course I like men—at least some men. You aren’t answering my question. Do you think a woman can be anything besides a wife and mother?”

  “I guess that depends on the woman. My sister can make a damson plum conserve that will make your mouth cry with joy,” he said, eyes sparkling and, before Blair could reply, gave her a wink, grabbed her by the waist and half tossed her into the carriage.

  Blair had to calm her temper before she could speak again. It was quite obvious that he wasn’t going to take her seriously. At least he has a sense of humor, she admitted reluctantly.

  They drove down the streets of Chandler and Blair tried to keep her mind on the sights. The old stone opera house’s doors had been repainted, and there looked to be at least three new hotels in town.

  The streets were full of people and wagons: cowboys just in from remote ranches, well-dressed Easterners wanting to capitalize on Chandler’s prosperity, a few men from the coal fields, and residents of the town who waved and nodded to the twins and Leander. Shouts of, “Welcome back, Blair-Houston,” followed them down the streets.

  Blair glanced at her sister and saw that she was looking toward the west, at the most monstrously big house she’d ever seen. It was a white house, perched on a high hill, the top of which had been flattened by one Mr. Kane Taggert in order to build the oversized hulk that loomed over the entire town.

  Blair knew that she couldn’t be fair about the house, because for years all her mother and Houston had written her about was that house. They had ignored births, deaths, marriages, accidents—nothing that went on in Chandler was considered important if it didn’t relate to that house.

  And when it had been completed, and the owner of the house had invited no one to see the inside of it, the despair in the letters Blair’d received was almost humorous.

  “The whole town still trying to get inside the place?” Blair asked, as she tried to reorganize her thoughts. If Leander never took her questions seriously, never gave her a straight answer, how was she going to prove anything to Houston?

  Houston was talking about that monstrous house in an odd, dreamy voice, rather as if she thought of it as a fairy castle, a place where dreams came true.

  “I’m not so sure all the things people say about him are rumors,” Leander was saying, referring to Houston’s mention of Taggert. “Jacob Fenton said—.”

  “Fenton!” Blair exploded. “Fenton is a conniving, thieving man who uses entire lives of people just so he can get what he wants.” Fenton owned most of the coal mines around Chandler and kept the people locked inside the camps as if they were prisoners.

  “I don’t think you can blame Fenton alone,” Lee said. “He has stockholders; he has contracts to fulfill. There are others involved.”

  Blair couldn’t believe what she was hearing and, as they paused to let a horse-drawn trolley pass, she glanced at Houston and was glad she was hearing this. Leander was defending the coal barons, and Blair knew how deeply Houston cared about the miners.

  “You’ve never had to work in a coal mine,” Blair said. “You have no idea what it means to struggle daily just to live.”

  “And I take it you do.”

  “More than you do,” she spat. “You got to study medicine at Harvard. Harvard doesn’t allow women.”

  “So, we’re back to that,” he said tiredly. “Tell me, does every male doctor get blamed for a few, or have you singled me out particularly?”

  “You’re the only one marrying my sister.”

  He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I had no idea you were jealous. Cheer up, Blair, you’ll eventually be able to find your own man.”

  Blair clenched her fists at her sides, looked straight ahead, and tried to remember her original purpose in even speaking to this man who had such an overinflated sense of his own worth. She hoped Houston appreciated what she was doing for her!

  Blair took a deep breath. “What do you think of women as doctors?”

  “I like women.”

  “Ah ha! You like women as long as they’re in their place and not in your hospital.”

  “I believe you said that, not me.”

  “You said that I wasn’t a ‘real’ doctor and couldn’t make rounds with you.”

  “I said that I thought the Hospital Board wouldn’t accept you. You get their permission and I’ll show you all the bloody dressings you want to see.”

  “Isn’t your father on the board?”

  “I don’t control him any more now than I did when I was five—maybe less so.”

  “I’m sure he’s just like you and doesn’t believe that women should be doctors.”

  “As far as I remember, I haven’t made a statement as to my personal beliefs concerning women in medicine.”

  Blair felt as if she were about to scream. “You’re talking in circles. What do you think about women in medicine?”

  “I think that would depend on my patient. If I had a patient who said he’d rather die than be treated by a woman, I wouldn’t let a female doctor near the man. But if I had a I patient who begged me to find a lady physician, I guess I’d scour the earth if I had to.”

  Blair could think of nothing else to say. So far, Leander had managed to turn around every word she’d said.

  “That’s Houston’s dream house,” Leander said when the trolley car had passed, making an obvious attempt to change the subject. “If Houston didn’t have me, I think she’d have joined the line of women fighting for Taggert and that house of his.”

  “I would like to see the inside,” Houston said in a faraway voice, then asked Lee to let her off at Wilson’s Mercantile.

  When Houston had gone, Blair felt no need to even speak to Leander, and he didn’t seem to feel that it was necessary to make conversation, either. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him more questions about the hospital, but she didn’t want more of his clever little retorts.

  He let her out at the Chandler Chronicle office and she stopped to talk to some of the people she’d known all her life, all of whom called her Blair-Houston because they couldn’t tell the twins apart. She hadn’t heard the name
in years and wondered how Houston felt about always being a part of a whole, never quite her own person.

  She picked up her new medical journal at the newspaper office and started down Third Street on the wide wooden boardwalk toward Farrell’s Hardware, where she was to meet Houston and Leander.

  Lee was there alone, leaning against the railing, the carriage drawn by that big black and white spotted horse of his nearby. There was no sign of Houston, and Blair thought of waiting in the shoe shop across the street until her sister showed up. But Lee saw her and shouted loud enough for the entire town to hear, “Planning to turn tail and run?”

  Blair straightened her spine, crossed the dusty street and went to meet him.

  He was grinning at her in a smirking way that made her wish she were a man and could challenge him to a duel.

  “I don’t think that what you’re thinking is very ladylike. What would Mr. Gates say?”

  “Nothing that he hasn’t already said to me, I’m sure.”

  Lee’s expression changed instantly. “Houston told me he was being pretty rough on you. If there’s anything that I can do to help, let me know.”

  For a moment, Blair was bewildered, both at his change in attitude and at his offer of help. She thought he despised her. Before she could speak, Houston appeared, her face flushed and distracted looking.

  “I’m glad you showed up now because you just saved your sister from a fate worse than death. She was about to have to say something pleasant to me.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Houston said.

  Lee took her elbow and escorted her to the carriage. “I said that you’d better get home now so you can start getting ready for the governor’s reception tonight.”

  He helped Houston into the carriage, then reached for Blair.

  With a glance at her sister, Blair knew that she had to try again to show her what Leander was really like.

  “No doubt you’re a believer in Dr. Clark’s theory concerning the overuse of a woman’s brain, too,” she said loudly.

 

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