“Ah, sweetheart,” Lee said, pulling her into his arms, “you are perfect. You’re sweet and kind and pliable and—.”
She pulled away from him. “Pliable! You mean like taffy?”
“No,” Lee smiled at her, “I just meant that you’re a pretty, sweet woman, and I think it’s good of you to be so worried about your sister, but I also think Blair should have been prepared for some criticism when she became a doctor.”
“You don’t think she should give up medicine, do you?”
“I have no idea what your sister should do. She’s not my responsibility.” He reached for her again. “What are we talking about Blair for? We have our own lives to live.”
As he spoke, his arms tightened around her and he began to nuzzle her ear.
This was the part of their courtship Houston always hated. Lee was so easy to be around, someone she knew so well. After all, they’d been a “couple” since she was six and he was twelve. Now, at twenty-two, she’d spent a great deal of time near Leander Westfield, had known forever that she was going to be Mrs. Westfield. All her schooling, everything she’d ever learned was in preparation for the day she’d be Lee’s wife.
But a few months ago, after he’d returned from studying in Europe, he’d started this kissing, pushing her into the buggy seat, groping at her clothes, and all she’d felt was that she wished he’d stop fumbling at her. Then Lee’d get angry, once again call her an ice princess, and take her home.
Houston knew how she was supposed to react to Lee’s touch. For all its appearance of staidness, Chandler, Colorado, was an enlightened town—at least its women were—but for the life of her Houston felt nothing when Lee touched her. She’d cried herself to sleep with worry many times. She couldn?
??t imagine loving anyone more than she loved Leander, but she was just not excited by his touch.
He seemed to sense what Houston was thinking and drew away from her, his anger showing in his eyes.
“It’s fewer than three weeks,” she said with hope in her voice. “In a short time we’ll be married and then . . .”
“And then what?” he said, looking at her sideways. “The ice princess melts?”
“I hope so,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “No one hopes so more than I do.”
They were silent for a moment.
“Are you ready for the governor’s reception tomorrow?” Lee asked, pulling a long cheroot from his pocket and lighting it.
Houston gave him a trembling smile. These few minutes after she’d turned him down were always the worst. “My Worth gown’s steamed and ready.”
“The governor will love you, you know that?” He smiled at her, but she sensed he was forcing the smile. “Someday I’ll have the most beautiful wife in the state at my side.”
She tried to relax. A governor’s reception was a place she felt confident. This was something she was trained for. Perhaps she should have taken a course in how not to be a cold, sexless wife. She knew that some men thought their wives shouldn’t enjoy sex, but she also knew Leander was like no one else. He’d explained to her that he expected her to enjoy him and Houston’d told herself she would, but mostly she felt annoyed when Leander kissed her.
“I have to go to town tomorrow,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Want to come along?”
“I’d love to. Oh! Blair wanted to stop by the newspaper office. I believe someone sent her a new medical journal from New York.”
Houston leaned back in the carriage as Leander clucked to the horse and wondered what he’d say if he knew his “pliable” intended was, once a week, doing something that was quite illegal.
* * *
Blair lounged against the end of the ornate, canopied, walnut bed, one knee bent, showing the separation of her Turkish pants. Her big blue and white room was on the third floor, with a beautiful view of Ayers Peak out the west window. She’d had a room on the second floor with the rest of the family, but after she’d left Chandler when she was twelve, Opal’d become pregnant and Mr. Gates had made her room into a bath and a nursery. Opal lost the child and the little room stood unused now, filled with dolls and toy soldiers Mr. Gates had bought.
“I really don’t see why we have to go with Leander,” Blair said to Houston who sat quite straight on a white brocade chair. “I haven’t seen you in years and now I have to share you.”
Houston gave her sister a little smile. “Leander asked us to accompany him, not the other way around. Sometimes I think you don’t like him. But I can’t see how that could be possible. He’s kind, considerate, he has position in the community and he—.”
“And he completely owns you!” Blair exploded, jumping up from the bed, startling Houston with the strength of her outburst. “Don’t you realize that in school I worked with women like you, women who were so unhappy they repeatedly attempted suicide?”
“Suicide? Blair, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no intention of killing myself.” Houston couldn’t help drawing away from her sister’s vehemence.
“Houston,” Blair said quietly, “I wish you could see how much you’ve changed. You used to laugh, but now you’re so distant. I understand that you’ve had to adjust to Gates, but why would you choose to marry a man just like him?”
Houston stood, putting her hand on the walnut dresser and idly touching Blair’s silver-backed hairbrush. “Leander isn’t like Mr. Gates. He’s really very different. Blair”—she looked at her sister in the big mirror—“I love Leander,” she said softly. “I have for years, and all I’ve ever wanted to do is get married, have children and raise my family. I never wanted to do anything great or noble like you seem to want to do. Can’t you see that I’m happy?”