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.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net