Web of Dreams (Casteel 5)

I laughed and began. I lost my sense of time sitting there and coloring and listening to Troy chatter away about the servants and the pool and maze and Tony, but perhaps an hour or so later, I heard Momma's voice just down the hall from Troy's playroom. Then I heard Tony. He sounded annoyed. Troy didn't notice because he was too engrossed in his work. I saw how intent he would get when he did something creative, and I thought it was remarkable for a little boy to be able to shut the world out so completely. He didn't even see me rise from my seat and go to the doorway.

Tony and Momma were standing a half dozen yards away. Tony stood tall and masculine and had his hands on her hips, trying to keep her close to him. They didn't know I was there, silent, watching.

"Come on, Jillian." His full lips looked sulky. "We're practically married."

"But we're not married, not yet. That's why not. And there's Leigh to think about."

"I'll put her on the other side of the house. She won't even know you've come into my room." He bent his dark head to nuzzle her neck.

"No, Tony." Momma pushed him away. "I told you, not until after we're married. And besides, I have things to do in Boston tomorrow. We can't stay over and that's that. Now don't be difficult."

"All right," he said shaking his head, "but you're tor-minting me . . . and on Thanksgiving," he joked, half joked I thought. I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and I felt bad watching them but I couldn't stop. Just before they turned to go back to the others, Tony caught sight of me peering out of Troy's playroom door. For a long moment his eyes burned into mine and I felt like he had stroked my hair or the delicate, airy fabric of my dress. I returned to Troy for another half hour or so and then Momma came to fetch me.

"It's time to head back to Boston."

Little Troy grimaced. "When are you going to stay here forever and ever?"

"Very soon now Troy," Momma told him. "It's late and you should be thinking about going to bed anyway."

"I'm not tired," he wailed.

"That's not for you to decide," she said. "You've been sickly and need your rest. Come along, Leigh." She turned and left quickly.

"I'll be back soon and we'll finish it all," I told him. He wasn't placated, but his sour expression left him when I kissed him goodbye on the cheek.

I joined Momma and Tony in the entrance hall. Most of the guests had already left.

"Thanks for entertaining Troy tonight, Leigh," Tony said. "He adores you."

"He's very talented."

"Yes." Tony's lips were curled into an amused smile. "He'll be designing Tatterton Toys in no time." He stepped close enough to kiss my forehead. "Good night, Leigh," he said, his hand lingering on my shoulder. I felt myself tremble. How could I ever consider such a handsome young man my stepfather?

"Good night," I muttered and quickly stepped out the door. Momma lingered behind whispering with Tony for a few moments. Then he kissed her softly on the lips and she turned to join me. We went down the steps and it occurred to me that very soon now, this would be my home, yet it all still seemed so strange to me. There were so many empty rooms, so many dark shadows. I wondered if I could ever call such a place my home.

Apparently Momma had none of these feelings. She was bubbling over with excitement.

"Wasn't it the most wonderful Thanksgiving you've ever had? All those people . . . all that food. Did you see the jewelry on Lillian Rumford?"

"I don't remember who she was, Momma."

"You don't remember? Oh, Leigh, how could you not notice that diamond tiara and those bracelets and that cameo?"

"I don't know. I guess I just missed it," I snapped. She heard the sadness in my voice and her smile wilted. I was glad in a mean way. All of a sudden my heart hardened against her--against my beautiful mother and her desire for fun and a rich, handsome husband.

I wouldn't speak to her anymore. I turned to look out the window at the night. She was quiet also for a while, then she started rattling on about the clothing the other women wore, what fantastic things were said to her and things she said, how much Tony adored her and how their wedding would be the talk of the town . .

As I gazed out the window into the darkness, I was hardly listening. There was a break in the landscape and we could see the ocean. It was a clear, cool night. Far off, I saw the small lights of a ship and I thought about Daddy someplace out there in the darkness--a lonely light against the velvet black night, like a single star in the evening sky.

seven LOST

. T wo weeks after Thanksgiving, I was on my way back to Farthy for a wedding ceremony rehearsal. It had snowed very heavily up and down the New England coast two days before. The landscape we passed through on our way to Farthy was covered with a white blanket that sparkled and looked crisp and clean in the morning sunlight. When we entered the wooded area just before the estate, I saw that many trees had changed shape, leaning over like old men because of the weight of the snow, or standing frozen against the blue sky, their branches looking more like bones because of the snow that clung to them. Some had icicles hanging from the tips of their branches. They looked like large teardrops frozen in the air.

Momma wasn't very interested in Nature. She had taken command of her wedding, planning every moment, every little detail, as if it really was going to be the most important social event of the decade. Tony provided her with one of his secretaries, Mrs. Walker, a very tall, very slim, dark-haired woman who was all business and no smiles. I guessed she just wasn't very happy about her assignment. She sat across from us in the limousine taking notes as Momma thought of things she still wanted added or changed. The reading of the guest list was the opening activity each morning. Mrs. Walker had been asked to do it again as soon as we had gotten into the back of the limo and begun our journey to Farthy.

Momma had decided that once she and Tony were married, she would never drive herself anywhere again. It would be chauffeurs and limousines from now on, and whenever Miles wasn't available because he was driving Tony somewhere, Momma would simply hire a temporary limo and driver.

During the days that followed our Thanksgiving dinner at Farthinggale Manor, I noticed other changes in her as well. She spent even more time on her hair and makeup, as impossible as that seemed, because she believed she had an even greater responsibility to look good now.