All That Glitters l-3

by V. C. Andrews

  "You'll never stop loving him," he muttered bitterly. "I was a fool to think otherwise. If I only had listened to my mother . . ." He sighed deeply and turned.

  "I can't help the way I feel about him, Paul."

  He nodded and looked very thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe you have to live with him to see what sort of a man he really is. Maybe then you'll understand the difference between him and me."

  "Paul, I love you for what you've done for Pearl and me and your devotion to me, but we've been living only half a marriage. Besides, we once agreed that if either of us could have someone else, someone we loved and could have a full relationship with, the other would not prevent it."

  He nodded. "What a dreamer I was when I made those vows with you on your Grandmère Catherine's gallery. Oh well," he continued with a wry smile, "I'll finally be able to do something that will make you truly happy." His eyes suddenly brightened with an additional thought. "Even more than you and Beau would expect." He paused, his face tight with determination.

  "What?" I asked, breathlessly.

  "When you call Beau, tell him we'll bring Gisselle here," he said.

  "What?"

  "He's right. What difference will anything make to her now? You and I will go to the ranch after lunch tomorrow. I have some important business to conduct. We'll pretend we're going for a short holiday and then I will return with Gisselle and give out the story that it is you who have suffered the encephalitis. I'll fix a comfortable place for her upstairs and we'll have nurses around the clock. Since she has lapses of memory and is confused and semiconscious most of the time, it won't be difficult."

  "You would do that for me?" I asked, incredulous.

  He smiled. "I love you that much, Ruby. Maybe now you'll really understand."

  "But I can't do this to you, Paul. It would be too hard and unfair."

  "It's nothing. In this big house, I wouldn't even notice the arrangements," he said.

  "I don't mean only that. You have a life to live, too," I insisted.

  "And I will. In my own way. Go on, call Beau."

  He had such a strange look in his eyes. I sensed that he believed this would somehow bring me back to him someday. Whatever his reasons, it certainly made our switch of identities far more possible.

  I turned to call Beau and then stopped, realizing the biggest problem of all.

  "We can't do this, Paul. It's impossible."

  "Why?"

  "Pearl!" I said. "If I'm Gisselle, what happens to her?"

  Paul thought a moment and then nodded. "With you supposedly seriously ill and with our nanny gone to care for her own family, I will take her to live with her aunt and uncle until the ordeal at Cypress Woods ends. For the time being, it will serve as a good cover story."

  I was overwhelmed with his quick thinking. "Oh, Paul, I don't deserve this kindness and sacrifice. I really don't," I cried.

  He smiled coolly. "You'll come visit your sick sister from time to time, won't you?" he asked, and I understood that in this strange way, he hoped to keep me tied to him.

  "Of course, although Gisselle wouldn't care."

  "Be careful," he warned with another grin. "Don't be too nice or people will say . . . what's come over her? She's not herself these days."

  "Yes," I said, realizing how great the challenge ahead of me was. I had very little confidence in myself. For now, I would have to be happy with only desire, the desire to be with Beau as his wife forever. Maybe that was enough. For Pearl's sake and mine, I prayed it was.

  Book Two

  11

  Nothing Ventured

  Beau was very excited and happy about Paul's proposal, but I was troubled by Paul's willingness to be part of this. What was he thinking? What was he hoping would happen as a result? I tossed and turned all night, haunted by the things that could go wrong and expose our deception. Once that happened, people would want to know more, and then the truth about Paul and me with all the sins of the past would be revealed. Not only would Pearl and I be disgraced, but the Tates would be devastated. The risks were enormous. I was sure Paul understood them as well as I did, but he was determined to remain tied to me, even in this bizarre fashion.

  When I awoke in the morning, I thought it had all been a dream until Paul knocked on my door and poked his head in to tell me we would leave for the Dumas country home a little after two. He estimated the ride to the ranch would take us close to three hours. A ripple of apprehension shot down my spine. I rose and started to make preparations. My body actually trembled as I moved about, thinking about what I would and wouldn't take.

  Since my taste in clothing and Gisselle's was different, I realized I had to leave most of my things behind, but I decided to take the jewelry and the mementoes that were most precious to me. I packed as many of Pearl's things as I could without drawing any suspicions. After all, we were supposed to be going away for only a few days.

  As I folded Pearl's things into her small suitcase, I thought how strange it was going to be for me to pretend I was only her aunt and not her mother. Fortunately, Pearl was still young enough so that when she called me Mommy, people would only assume she was confused. I would say that it was easier to let her do so for now. What I dreaded was later when she was old enough to understand it all, because then I would have to tell her the truth as to why her father and I had done this and why I took my sister's name. I couldn't help worrying about how it might change the way she thought of us.

  I spent the morning wandering about Cypress Woods with Pearl, drinking it all in as though I would never see any of it again. I knew whenever I did return, it would look different to me since I had to think of it no longer as my home, but as my sister's home, a place to visit and a place I supposedly disliked. I would have to behave as though the bayou were as foreign as China to me, for that was the way Gisselle reacted to it.

  I thought that would be the hardest thing to do: pretend to hate the bayou. No matter how I practiced, I was sure I couldn't be very convincing about that. Surely my heart would not permit me to mock and complain about the world in which I had grown and the world I had loved all my life.

  While Pearl was taking her nap, I went up to my studio to store the things I wanted to protect from time and inattention. As my sister, Gisselle, I would have to do any drawing and painting secretly. Once the news got out that Ruby was an invalid, semiconscious and mentally impaired, the new paintings could no longer be delivered to the art gallery, but I took solace in the fact that I wasn't doing them so much for the fame and money as I was for my own inner satisfaction.

  Paul returned home for lunch, which was hard for both of us. Neither of us came right out and said it, but we knew this was the last meal we would sit down to as man and wife. It was important that we didn't act too differently in front of our servants. Nevertheless, every other moment it seemed we were both gazing across the table at each other as if we had just met and neither knew how to begin a sentence. Tension made us overly polite toward each other. Twice we started simultaneously.

  "Go on," he said again.

  "No, you go on this time," I insisted.

  "I wanted to assure you I would see that the studio is kept clean. Maybe you and Beau will vacation here and you can slip up there and do some work, if you like. I'll just say the work was completed before Ruby became so sick."

  I nodded, although I didn't think that would ever happen. Despite the fact that it was Gisselle who had contracted St Louis encephalitis and not me, it made me feel strange to talk about myself as the one who was seriously ill. I quickly envisioned everyone's initial reactions, reactions I wouldn't see because I would be already gone. I expected Paul's sisters would be very upset. His mother would probably be overjoyed, but I did think his father would be sad, for we had gotten along quite well despite Gladys Tate's feelings toward me. The servants would take it hard. I was sure there would be tears.

  As soon as the news was spread throughout the bayou, all the people who knew me would feel terrible.
Many of Grandmère Catherine's friends would go to church and light a candle for me. As I imagined these scenes, one after the other, I felt a sense of guilt for causing all this sorrow based on a grand deception and I began to wilt in my seat.

  "Are you all right?" Paul asked after our dishes were cleared away.

  "Yes," I said, but the tears burned under my eyelids and I felt one hot flush after another. Suddenly the room was like an oven. "I'll be right back," I cried, and got up abruptly.

  "Ruby!"

  I ran out of the dining room and into a bathroom to throw cold water on my cheeks and forehead. When I gazed at myself in the mirror, I saw how the blood had drained from my face, leaving me looking white as fresh milk.

  "You're going to be punished for doing this," I warned my reflection. "Maybe someday you will become seriously ill, too."

  My mind was in turmoil. Should I put a stop to it before it was too late?

  There was a gentle knock on the door.

  "Ruby. Beau's on the phone," Paul said. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes. I'll be right there, Paul. Thank you."

  I dabbed my face with more cold water, quickly wiped it dry, and then went into the office for privacy. "Hello."

  "Paul said you weren't doing so well. Are you all right?"

  "You still want to go through with it, don't you?" he asked, his voice cracking with fear of disappointment. I took a deep breath. "Everything's set," he added before I could reply. "I have the station wagon prepared like an ambulance so we can drive her back to Cypress Woods, pretending it's you. I'll follow in Paul's car and help get her into the house. He's still willing to go through with it all, isn't he?"

  "Yes, but . . . Beau . . . what if I can't do this?"

  "You can. You must. Ruby, I love you and you love me and we have a daughter to bring up together. It's what was meant to be. We have a chance to defeat Fate. Let's not throw it away. I promise. I'll be at your side constantly. I'll make sure it works."

  Strengthened by his words, I felt myself regain composure. The blood returned to my face and my heart stopped pounding.

  "All right, Beau. We'll be there."

  "Good. I love you," he said, and hung up. I heard another click and realized Paul had been listening in on our conversation, but I wasn't going to embarrass him by letting him know I knew. He left to complete some last-minute errands and I fetched Pearl after her nap and fed her lunch. Afterward, I took her up to my room to wait. My small suitcase and my pocketbook looked pathetic beside the vanity table. I was taking so little with me, but when I had first returned to the bayou, I had brought even less, I reminded myself.

  I became very fidgety. The minutes seemed more like hours. When I gazed out the window, I saw clouds moving in from the southwest. They were growing thicker and longer. The wind became stronger and I realized a storm was brewing. A bad omen, I thought. I trembled and embraced myself. Was Nature, the bayou, conspiring to keep me from doing this? I knew Grandmère Catherine might say something just like that if she were at my side now. Lightning flashed and there was a roar of thunder that seemed to shake the house.

  Just a little after two o'clock, Paul came to my door and peered in. "Ready?"

  I looked around one final time and nodded. My knees were knocking together and my abdomen felt like a hollowed-out cave, but I lifted Pearl into my arms and leaned over to get my bag.

  "I'll get it," he said, and picked it up before I could. He gazed into my eyes, searching for my true inner feelings, but I looked away quickly.

  "You're going to miss it here, Ruby," he said, piercing me with his diamond-hard glare. "No matter how much you tell yourself you won't, you will. The bayou is as much a part of you as it is a part of me. That's why you returned to it when you were in trouble," he said.

  "It's not like I won't ever return, Paul."

  "Once we make the switch and we go through the performances, it will be impossible for you to return as Ruby, though," he reminded me sharply.

  "I know," I said.

  "You must really love him to do all this to be with him," he said, his voice dripping with envy. When I didn't reply, he sighed and gazed out the windows at the canals for a moment. Poor Paul, I thought. A part of him wanted to vent rage and anger at both Beau and me, but that part of him that loved me prevented it and left him filled with frustration.

  "Disregard what I just said," he muttered. "If he abuses you or betrays you, or something unexpected happens, I will find a way for you to return," he promised, and turned to look at me intently. "I'd turn the world topsy-turvy to get you back at my side," he added.

  Was this why he was being so cooperative? I wondered. Because he wanted to be there for me should something go wrong? Deep in my heart I knew, no matter what he said or did, Paul would never give me up.

  He went into Pearl's room to get the suitcase of things I had packed for her and then we all descended the stairs quickly.

  The rain had started, so we had to ride with the windshield wipers wagging monotonously. As we left the long drive, I turned back once to look at the great house. Our lives are filled with so many different sorts of good-byes, I thought. We can say good-bye to the people we love, or the people we've known most of our lives, but we can say good-bye to places, too, especially the places that had become a part of who and what we were. I had said good-bye to the bayou before, once thinking I would never come back, but I always believed that if I had, it would still be what it had been to me. In a strange way, I felt as if I were betraying it, too, this time, and I wondered if a place could be as reluctant to forgive you as could people.

  The rain came down in a solid sheet. Despite the humidity, I had a wintry feeling rush through my body, and shuddered. I checked Pearl, but she seemed quite comfortable and content.

  "Isn't it funny how far we will go to be with someone we think we love," Paul suddenly said, speaking softly. "A grown man will behave like a young boy, a young boy will do everything he can to appear like a grown man. We'll risk our reputations, sacrifice our worldly possessions, defy our parents, even our religious beliefs. We'll do illogical and foolish things, things that are impractical, wasteful, just for a moment of what we think is ecstasy on earth."

  "Yes," I said. "Everything you say is true, but knowing it's true doesn't keep us from doing these things."

  "I know," he replied bitterly. "I understand better than you think I do. I know you could never fully understand me and why I wanted to be with you so much, but I have a feeling you appreciate my feelings for you now."

  "I do," I said.

  "Good. Because you know what, Ruby?" He looked at me with icy eyes. "Someday you're going to come back." He said it with such assurance, I felt a chill in my heart. Then we turned onto the main highway and sped up, shooting into my new destiny with a fury that took my breath away.

  Pearl fell asleep during the ride. She usually did fall asleep in the car. Two hours after we had started, the rain began to move off and some sunlight pierced through the layer of lighter clouds. Paul studied the directions Beau had given him earlier, and less than an hour later, we found the road to the ranch.

  The main building of what Daphne used to refer to as her ranch was châteauesque. It had a steeply pitched hipped roof with spires, pinnacle, turrets, gables, and two shaped chimneys. The ornamental metal cresting along the roof's ridges had elaborate moldings. Both the windows and the doorway were arched. To the right were two small cottages for the servants and caretakers, and to the right of that, some thousand yards or so away, were the stables with the riding horses and a barn. The property had rambling fields with patches of wooded areas and a stream cutting across its north end.

  Like some chateau in the French countryside, it had beautiful gardens and two gazebos on the front lawn, as well as benches and chairs and stone fountains. When we arrived, the caretakers were busily at work trimming hedges and weeding. They were an elderly couple and looked up for only one curious moment before turning back to their work so fast,
it was as if someone had snapped a whip.

  Beau was in the doorway before we had parked our car. He gestured for us to come in quickly. Pearl was still asleep, her eyelids barely fluttering when I lifted her into my arms to follow Paul to the house. Beau stepped back, smiling softly at me.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said, even though a paralyzing numbness gripped me.

  Paul and Beau looked at each other a moment and then Beau became very serious, his eyes narrowing and darkening.

  "We'd better hurry," he said.

  "Lead the way," Paul replied sharply.

  We entered the chateau. It had a short foyer decorated with drapes and large scenic paintings. The furnishings were a mixture of modern and some of the same French Provincial found in the New Orleans house. The lights were low, the curtains closed on the windows. Shadows fell everywhere, especially over the stairway. We hurried up.

  "Let's get Pearl settled in first," Beau suggested, and took us immediately to a nursery. "That was Gisselle's old crib," he said. "Apparently Daphne had guests with children from time to time. She loved being the hostess with the mostest," he said, smirking at me.

  Pearl moaned when I placed her in the crib. I waited a moment to see if she would wake, but she just sighed and turned on her side. Then Beau turned to Paul.

  "I managed to get a folding gurney for us to use. No one knows or suspects anything," he assured me. "Money stops curiosity."

  "It doesn't solve every problem," Paul said pointedly, shifting his eyes to me, too. I looked down and Beau nodded without a reply and ushered us out. We followed him to the master suite. Gisselle looked tiny in the king-size canopy bed with the quilt up to her chin. Her hair was strewn out over the pillow and her complexion was pasty white.

  "She goes in and out of coma now," Beau explained.

  "Oh, Beau. She really belongs in a hospital," I moaned.

  "Paul can have her put in one if his doctor so advises. Mine didn't think it would matter much as long as she had good nursing care."