He paused for a moment. “Does that answer your question? Have you decided now that you aren’t lusting after the lovely Miss Houston?”

Leander gave his father a serious look. “I’ve decided now that that shape of hers, that walk of hers that has grown men fainting in her wake, is all show. The woman is a block of ice. She is completely frigid, without any emotion at all. I cannot marry someone like her and spend the rest of my life trying to live with a woman who has no feelings at all.”

“Is that all that’s wrong?” Reed asked, obviously relieved.

“Good women are supposed to be like that. You wait, after you’re married, she’ll warm up. Your mother was very cool to me before we were married. She broke her parasol over my head one evening when I got too fresh. But later, after we were married…well, things got better—much better. You take the word of someone who’s more experienced in these matters. Houston is a good girl and she’s had to live with that bigot Gates all these years. Of course she’s nervous and frightened.”

Leander listened to his father’s words carefully. He’d never planned to spend his life in Chandler. Instead, he’d planned to intern in a big city, work on the staff of a big hospital and eventually have his own practice and make a lot of money. He had lasted but six months before he decided to come home where he was needed, where he would have more important cases than a rich woman’s hysteria.

All the time he’d been away from Chandler, Houston had written him letters, gossipy letters about what went on in the town and later about her finishing school. He’d always looked forward to the letters and looked forward to once again seeing the little girl who’d written them.

The night he’d returned home, his father threw a party of welcome and the “little girl” walked into the room. Houston had grown into a woman with a figure that made Lee’s palms sweat, and as he was gaping, an old friend had punched him on the arm.

“It’s no use trying. There isn’t a single man in town who hasn’t asked for her hand in marriage—or for anything else she’ll part with—but she’ll have none of us. I think she’s waiting for a prince or a president.”,

Lee had grinned smugly. “Maybe you boys don’t know how to ask. I learned a few tricks while I was in Paris.”

And so he had become a contestant in the local race to see who could get Miss Chandler to marry him. He still didn’t understand what had happened. He had taken her out to a few parties, and at about the third one, he?

?d asked her to marry him, saying something to the effect of, “I don’t imagine you’d want to marry me, would you?” He had expected her to refuse; then he could laugh with the men at his club, saying that he’d tried, too, but alas, he also had failed.

He had been shocked when Houston had accepted his proposal immediately and asked if the twentieth of May would be a date that suited him, all in the same breath. The next morning, he had seen his picture in the paper as being engaged to Houston, and the article further stated that the happy couple was choosing her ring that morning. After that, he’d never had a moment to think about what he’d done when he’d proposed. If he wasn’t at the hospital, he was at a tailor’s shop or agreeing with Houston about what color the draperies should be in the house he’d suddenly found himself buying.

And now, just weeks before the wedding, he was having second thoughts. Every time he touched Houston, she moved away from him as if he were repulsive. Of course he knew Duncan Gates, knew how the man never missed an opportunity to put a woman in her “place.” His father had written a few years ago that Gates had tried to bar women from the new ice-cream parlor that had opened in town. His reasoning was that it would encourage women to be lazy, to gossip, and to flirt. All of which, Reed had written, had proven true—and the men were delighted.

Leander took a long, thin cigar from his pocket and lit it. “I’ve not had much experience with ‘good’ girls. Before you married Mother, did you worry that she might not change?”

“Worried about it night and day. I even told my father that I refused to marry her, that I wouldn’t spend my life with a woman made of stone.”

“But you changed your mind. Why?”

Reed made an apologetic little smile. “Well, I…I mean I…” He turned his head away, in what looked to be embarrassment. “If she were here today, I think she’d want me to tell you. The truth is, son, I seduced her. I gave her too much champagne and sweet-talked her for hours and seduced her.”

He turned back abruptly. “But I’m not advising you to do that. I’m advising you to learn from what I did. You can get into an awful lot of trouble that way. To this day, I think you came about two weeks earlier than was proper.”

Leander was studying the tip of his cigar. “I like your advice and I think I’ll take it.”

“I’m not sure I should have told you this. Houston is a lovely girl and…” He stopped and studied his son for a moment. “I trust your judgment. You do what you think is best. Will you be here for dinner?”

“No,” Lee said softly, as if in deep thought. “I’m taking Houston to the governor’s reception tonight.”

Reed started to say something but closed his mouth and left the room. He might have reconsidered saying what he thought if he’d known that later his son called a saloon to order four bottles of French champagne to be sent to his new house, then asked the housekeeper to prepare a dinner that began with oysters and ended with chocolate.

Chapter 3

Blair sat in her room on the top floor of the Chandler house and tried to concentrate on an article about peritonitis, but, instead, her eyes kept moving to the window where she could see her sister cutting roses in the garden below. Blair could see that Houston was humming, smelling the roses and, in general, enjoying herself.

For the life of her, Blair couldn’t understand Houston. She’d just had an argument with her fiancé, he’d stormed away in anger, yet Houston wasn’t in the least upset.

And then there was that episode in town with that man Taggert. Blair had never seen Houston so responsive to a man to whom she hadn’t been formally introduced. Houston was a stickler for rules and etiquette, yet she’d greeted that ill-clad, hairy man as if they were old friends.

Blair put her journal down and went to the garden.

“All right,” Blair said as soon as she reached her sister. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Houston looked as innocent as a baby.

“Kane Taggert,” Blair answered, trying to read her sister’s face.

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