Houston cut her friend off, Mrs. Murchison was under Kane’s spell and no doubt she’d defend the man to the death. “I’ll go down the back stairs,” Houston said, ignoring the fact that Sarah was unwrapping her wedding dress. It still needed pressing and there were last-minute stitches to be taken.
Once she was downstairs, there were more catastrophes to be seen to. Several times, she heard Kane shouting from within his office, and someone pushed Houston inside the scullery when Kane stormed past on his way outside to the gardens. She envied him his freedom, and at the same time wished she could be with him. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow, they’d be able to walk together in the garden.
It was only two hours before the service when she finally made it back upstairs.
“Houston,” Opal said, “I think you should begin dressing now.”
Houston removed her clothing slowly, thinking that when she disrobed the next time . . .
“Who in the world is that woman?” Anne asked as Houston stepped into a chemise of cotton so fine that it was a mere whisper against her skin. The top had tiny, worked buttonholes that were inserted with pink silk ribbon, and the bottom was hand-embroidered with tiny rosebuds.
“I have no idea,” Tia said, joining Anne to look over the railing of the garden, “but she must be the tallest woman I’ve ever seen.”
Sarah began tightening the laces on Houston’s pink satin, hand-featherstitched corset. “I think I’m going to have to take a look,” Sarah said. “Maybe she’s one of Lee’s relatives.”
“I’ve seen her before but I have no idea where,” Anne said. “How odd of her to wear black to a wedding.”
“We have work to do,” Opal said in a way that made Houston’s head come up. “No one need interest herself in the private matters of any one of the guests.”
Houston was quite sure that something was wrong. Ignoring her mother’s stern look, she went to the edge of the rooftop garden where Tia stood. Instantly, she knew who the woman was. Even from upstairs, she looked tall and elegant.
“It’s Pamela Fenton,” Houston whispered, and turned back toward the bedroom.
For a moment, no one spoke.
“Probably wearing black in mourning,” Sarah said, “because she lost him. Houston, which one of these petticoats do you want on first?”
Mechanically, Houston continued dressing, but her thoughts were on the fact that Kane was in the garden and the woman he once loved was walking toward him.
A knock on the door was answered by Anne. “It’s the man who works with Kane,” she told Houston. “He wants to see you, and he says it’s urgent and he has to see you immediately.”
“She couldn’t possibly go . . . ” Opal began, but her daughter had already snatched a dressing gown from a chair back and was on her way to the door.
* * *
Kane was standing at the far edge of his garden, looking out over the city of Chandler, smoking one of his cigars, one foot on a stone bench.
“Hello, Kane,” Pamela said softly.
He waited a moment before turning to face her, and when he did look at her, his eyes were calm, not showing what he felt. He looked her up and down. “The years have treated you kindly.”
“On the outside.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time so I’ll say what I came to say. I still love you; I’ve never stopped loving you. If you’ll walk away with me now, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”
Quickly, he took a step toward her but stopped and walked back. “No, I can’t do that,” he said quietly.
“You can! You know you can. What do you care about, any of these people? What do you care about the people of Chandler? What do you care about . . . her?”
“No,” he repeated.
She moved so they were standing close. He was a couple of inches taller than she, but with her heels they were equal. “Kane, please, don’t make this mistake. Don’t marry someone else. You know you love me. You know I—.”
“You love me so much that you left me alone,” he said angrily. “You married your rich lover and . . . ” He stopped, turned away from her. “I won’t leave with you today. I’ll not hurt her like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”
Pam sat down on the bench. “You’re going to cast me aside merely because you don’t want to hurt Houston Chandler? She’s young. She’ll find someone else. Or is she in love with you?”
“I’m sure you know the gossip. She’s still in love with Westfield, but she agreed to console herself with my money. Unfortunately, I go along with the money.”
“Then why? Why do you feel obligated?”