Fallen Hearts

by V. C. Andrews

  "Logan Stonewall," I said, spinning around quickly to confront him, "did you know anything about this before we came to Farthy? Tell me the truth," I demanded quickly.

  "What . of course not . . how could I?" He lifted his arms to plead his innocence. I studied him a moment and concluded he was telling the truth. "Why are you so upset, anyway? Look around you. This place is beautiful."

  "I know that, but remember what I said downstairs about men like Tony getting what they want. Don't you understand? He had to have begun this some time back; he had to have always planned for us to come here, for you to work for him."

  "I don't believe that," Logan said. "How could he?"

  "I do," I said. "But maybe it doesn't matter anyway; maybe it's all part of what's destined to be." I looked over the rooms again. "Come," I said, "let's get ready for dinner,"

  Logan, shaking his head in confusion, followed me out. How could I expect him to understand the forces at work at Farthy, the power of the ghosts and the shadows that Rye Whiskey feared, the mystery and the magic of the large house and its grounds, when I, myself, a blood descendant of the Tattertons, receptive to the voices from the past, did not comprehend the full extent of the power they had over me?

  I should flee this place, I thought. I should rush out of here and return to the Willies, where I felt safe and snug in Grandpa's cabin. But the echo of that thought died quickly and was replaced by the echoes of Logan's and my footsteps as we hurried down the corridor.

  Like a leaf in the wind, I felt myself being swept along, carried away by forces far stronger than I was.

  FOUR The Grand Reception

  . THE ROAD TO FARTHINGGALE MANOR HOSTED A PARADE OF limousines, Cadillacs and Lincolns, Rolls-Royces and Mercedes. Tony had pulled out all stops; he had invited every influential businessman and politician and socialite within a hundred-mile radius. I knew that all he had done to impress Logan and me up until now would p-afe beside what he was about to present.

  Every girl dreams of a wonderful wedding reception, but to see something like this, an

  extravaganza beyond my wildest imaginings, suddenly made all my dark thoughts about Tony and his manipulations disappear and made me realize how incredibly lucky I was. I did have a great deal to be thankful for. To know that all this splendor, all these well-dressed people in expensive cars were gathering because of Logan and me filled me with an

  excitement almost impossible to contain.

  Suddenly, stepping out of one of the sleek black limousines, I spotted Our Jane and Keith. I ran toward them, my arms outstretched. Our Jane had grown into a stunning eighteen-year-old. Only an inch or so shorter than I was, Jane had developed a fuller figure. Her fiery red-gold hair flamed about her small oval face, highlighted by a pair of turquoise eyes so soft and vulnerable they could turn the hardest, most cynical man into a blubbering schoolboy.

  "Heaven!" she cried. "Oh, Heaven,. I'm so happy for you."

  Keith looked his part as well. As tall as Pa, his auburn hair deep and rich,, his brown eyes bright, he looked tanned, rich, and quite the Harvard man, dressed in a light white-and-blue-striped cotton sweater and dark blue slacks.

  "Congratulations, big sister." He grinned, then replaced his pipe in his mouth. What a handsome, self-confident young man Keith had become! I knew he was an excellent student, a member of the prestigious rowing team as well as the highly successful debate team.

  Looking at them now, it was hard to believe that they had once clung to me like two little monkeys, their faces pale with shadowed hollows beneath their eyes. It was almost impossible to resurrect the memory, of their thin, little voices crying, "Hey-lee, Hey- lee" as they begged for something more substantial to eat during those days after Pa had deserted us and Tom and I were left to be both mother and father to them.

  Maybe it was good I had a hard time

  remembering all that, I thought. Maybe it was best. I wished I had just as hard a time recalling other troubled memories as well.

  "I just knew you two would marry some day," Jane said. "It's all so romantic. You two were just made for each other. Heaven, I. . . I'm just so happy for you. I'll bet the whole town of Winnerow went crazy when they heard the news."

  "How is Winnerow?" Keith asked, a slight smirk in his face. His memories weren't fond ones, so he had no burning desire to return, even for a short visit.

  "It's about the same," Logan said, suddenly appearing at my side. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo, his hair combed back, a white carnation in his lapel.

  "Logan Stonewall!" Our Jane shouted. "How handsome you look."

  "And how grown up and beautiful you look, Our Jane," he replied.

  "No one calls me that anymore," she said, blushing.

  Logan turned to Keith. "You certainly have grown sitce I last saw you. Heaven keeps me up to date on all your college success. She's very proud of you. Proud of you both. We're going to need young men like you in Winnerow now. There will be some significa it changes there soon."

  "Oh?" Keith said.

  "We'll talk about it later," Logan said. "Right now, I'm going to get some champagne and something to eat, okay, Heaven?"

  I kissed him and he went off, leaving me to chat with Keith and Our Jane.

  "What a wonderful party this is going to be!" Jane exclaimed. The music down by the pool had just begun and the guests were beginning to dance.

  "We must catch up on everything, Our Jane. . . I mean Jane. It's going to be so hard for me to remember not to call you that," I said, hugging her once again.

  "You can call me Our Jane if you like, Heaven. I'm just so happy to see you!" She clapped her hands together, like she used to as a little girl when she was excited. "Oh, Heaven, I can barely stand still. Do you mind if I wander around? I don't mean to go off so fast, but look at all those flower arrangements, the pool, and -"

  "You kids run off and have a good time, the time of your lives. We'll catch up later," I said.

  They walked away together arm in arm. I stood for a while, watching them laughing with each other, whispering in each other's ear, joking and giggling. They were still very close, sensitive to each other's feelings and moods. In my secret and putaway heart, I couldn't help being envious of their relationship. Once, Tom and I had had similarly strong ties. Just seeing them together suddenly made me feel small and lonely.

  Would I always feel an orphan? Would I never feel I truly belonged anywhere? But I had to scold myself. Look at all this that Tony had done for me. Perhaps it was Farthy after all to which I belonged.

  My eyes searched for Logan. I wanted him to stand by my side, to put his arm through mine, to be my husband always with me at our wedding reception, but wherever I spied Logan, there was Tony, dragging him from business acquaintance to business acquaintance, gallantly introducing Logan to the whir and flash of Boston society.

  Feeling a little sad, I left Logan with Tony and turned toward the pool patio. Tony hated rock and roll, so the band he hired played only classics and easy listening music. It didn't have the spirit of the Longchamps, but the melodies were gay and upbeat and created the right atmosphere. Guests were jitterbugging to "In the Mood." Others were sitting at the small tables, shaded by colorful umbrellas, eating, while others wandered about from group to group, exchanging gossip.

  Tony had hired two dozen additional servants for the reception. Waiters and waitresses dressed in red and white uniforms circled about the grounds, carrying trays of champagne in long-stemmed glasses and silver and gold trays of hors d'oeuvres. At least four hundred people had arrived, all richly dressed, modeling the latest fashions, originals by Saint Laurent and Chanel, Pierre Cardin and Adolfo. The warm breeze carried their laughter and conversation over the manicured grounds.

  Some of the people I had met before, although I really recalled few. Despite their attempts at individuality, there was a sameness in their style of conversation, in the way they greeted one another. After my second glass of champagne, I giggled at the idea that a small ar
my of mannequins had become animated and escaped from the windows of the most elegant Boston shops.

  Suddenly I spotted Tony whispering something into the bandleader's ear.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," the band leader boomed into the microphone, "before we continue with our festivities, I have been asked to play a special number. Would you all turn your attention to our lovely bride and to your wonderful host, Mr. Tony Tatterton."

  The bandleader lifted his baton and the orchestra began a rendition of "You Are the Sunshine of My Life." Tony walked across the dance floor to me and held out his hand.

  "This dance, princess."

  I took his hand and he pulled me to him gently. "Happy?" Tony asked, his face against my hair. "Oh, yes, yes. It's a wonderful party." And it was. I truly appreciated how much Tony was doing to make me feel I belonged here.

  "I hope you're really happy, Heaven," Tony said. "I don't mean to do anything but please you."

  "I'm happy, Tony. Thank you."

  "Having all of this is meaningless unless you have someone you love with whom to share it. Will you share it with me, Heaven?"

  I looked at Logan, laughing and waving at me as he made one new rich friend after another. I looked at Farthy, the grand house looming above the party, its windows filled with the reflection of blue sky and soft cotton white clouds.

  "Yes, Tony," I said.

  He kissed me on the cheek and hugged me to him tightly, too tightly. I inhaled the strong, sweet aroma of his aftershave and felt his strong fingers pressed against my back. His lips grazed my cheek again, coming very close to mine, and for a moment, only a moment, a chilling sense of fear knifed through my heart.

  "It's all just beginning," he whispered. "Just beginning. I want to do so much more for you, Heaven. If you'll only let me."

  I didn't respond. He was holding me so closely and tightly, I could feel his need to have me with him always, a need that made me feel claustrophobic, a need so great it frightened me.

  Midway into the dance, others began to join in. When the song ended, Tony excused himself to mingle with the guests. I stood simply gaping at everything. My heart was pounding so hard in my ears that for a moment all other sound was drowned out. I didn't hear the laughter, the music, or the

  conversations. I felt as if I were alone on the vast grounds, the sea of blue sky above, the breeze whispering around me like a warning. It took me a few moments to realize that Logan was at my side.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "What?"

  "You look lost."

  "Oh, yes." I laughed to cover my trepidations, the pressure of Tony's arms still lingering on my b ck. "I was just in a daze. This is so overwhelming." Just then Jane and Keith walked over and kissed me.

  "You looked absolutely radiant out there," Jane said.

  "You did look beautiful, Sis," Keith agreed.

  Logan took me in his arms. "You and Tony did make a splendid couple on the dance floor. He's quite a dancer for an older man."

  "I suppose," I said a little coldly, hoping that somehow Logan would sense that something was wrong. But he saw only what he wanted to see, his bride, the start of a new life, the promise of a perfect future.

  "I almost forgot, they asked me to get you and go down to the stage by the pool," Logan said. "There's about to be a presentation."

  "Presentation?"

  He shrugged.

  "I know just as little as you do," he said, smiling, but it was such a self-satisfied smile that I doubted him.

  Tony stepped onto the stage and walked up to the microphone. His eyes roved over the crowd until he spied Logan and me strolling toward him.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "a special toast to our bride and groom." He held his glass up. "To a bright and wonderful future--"

  He suddenly stopped. The crowd began turning their heads, trying to follow his line of vision. Jillian was stepping out onto the dance floor. A wave of astonishment rippled through the large sea of guests. Jillian continued drifting toward the stage, Martha Goodman scurrying like a duck behind her

  Jillian was dressed in her wedding gown. She had always had a beautiful, slim, and graceful figure. Even in her state of madness, she had no trouble fitting into it as perfectly as she had the day of her marriage to Tony. Her golden hair, bleached to the point where it looked like a mop of straw, was brushed down the sides of her face and the back of her head in stiff strands that curled at the ends. There were two blotches of dark pink rouge on the crowns of her cheekbones, and her lipstick, now the color of dried blood, was just as caked as it had been the first day I saw her in her suite.

  She stopped at the bottom step of the stage and turned to look at the crowd of gawkers.

  "Thank you all for coming. Thank you," she said. "This is the happiest day of my life, the day I'm to marry Mr. Anthony Tatterton. I'm so happy so many of you chose to share it with me. Please, please enjoy yourselves."

  For a moment no one moved or said anything. Then Martha whispered something in her ear.

  "This is my wedding, this is my special day," Jillian said, turning to Martha with a ferocious look. She brushed back a strand of her wild, strawlike hair. "These people came to see me! They came to be witness to my wedding, to my everlasting devotion to Tony Tatterton . . and I know," she said, her voice almost a whisper now, "I know that his love for me will always remain true." All the strength suddenly drained from her posture and she had to lean on Martha as on a crutch.

  "Miss Jillian," Martha said tenderly, leading her back to her seat.

  The crowd was dumbstruck. Tony regained his composure and stepped back up to the microphone as though nothing peculiar at all had occurred.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he began again, "a toast to Mr. and Mrs. Logan Stonewall."

  "Hear hear," the men in the crowd chorused, trying to hide their embarrassment, and over four hundred people drank to our happiness and good health.

  "Heaven, Logan, I wish you long life and happiness and as a token of that wish, I present you with this - "

  He raised his free hand to signal and the audience and Logan and I all looked toward where he pointed: a brand-new silver Rolls-Royce with ribbons wrapped around appeared. The crowd uttered one unilateral sigh of appreciation as it drove toward us. I looked up at Tony and saw the determination on his face.

  There was no limit to what he would do to win my heart and devotion, I thought. His love for me was both ruthless and overwhelming. Once again that pang of fear I had felt on the dance floor returned. For a moment my handsome secret father looked like the Devil incarnate. I felt helpless before such power and wealth, such unyielding love.

  I turned to Logan to see his reaction. His face was filled with happiness, his cheeks crimson, his eyes lit, his mouth opened in an expression of utter awe. He squeezed my hand, then dropped it and stepped forward to admire Tony's gleaming, extraordinary gift. I followed behind. Logan turned to me, his face so filled with happiness he nearly brought me to tears.

  "Oh, Heaven," he said, "I don't think it's possible to be any happier than I am at this moment."

  "I hope so, Logan," I said. "I hope so." His face was beaming so. How easy he was to please and make happy, I thought. His happiness was never clouded by dark suspicions as mine was. How I needed a man like him. I wanted to cuddle in his arms forever.

  "Oh, Logan, I love you. Love me forever and ever like you do now," I pleaded as I fell into his arms.

  "I will. I promise," he said.

  When we kissed we were almost oblivious to everyone and everything around us. Then the crowd of well-wishers cheered again and the party continued. Logan and his new young companions inspected the Rolls-Royce and I turned to thank Tony as the music was begun again. Before he reached me though, Jillian got up fro her seat and ran to him.

  "Oh, Tony," she cried, "you do love me! Wasn't it a wonderful ceremony."

  People stopped to stare and listen.

  "Yes, Jillian." He put his arm around her to turn
her back to her table. She leaned back and, looking over her shoulder, called to everyone nearby.

  "Enjoy yourselves," she commanded. "Please, everyone, continue to enjoy yourselves."

  I watched as Tony seated Jillian again and had Martha Goodman bring her something to eat. Then he started toward me. I couldn't help feeling sorry for Jillian, for the way people were looking at her and whispering.

  "Why did you permit this to happen?" I demanded as soon as he was close to me and I could direct him to a place where we couldn't be overheard. "Don't you find it embarrassing?"

  "Embarrassing?" He looked back in Jillian's direction as if he, himself, were back in time and hadn't realized what was going on in the present. "Yes, it's embarrassing, but it's more tragic to me than embarrassing."

  "Then why permit her to come out here like that? In front of all these people. Most are surely laughing at her."

  "She doesn't see it that way," he said, his face approximating a smile. I couldn't understand it. "In her eyes, mad eyes, she sees them all as having a good time at her wedding reception. "

  "But . ."

  "But what?" he said, his lips compressing into a tight thin line. "Whose embarrassment are you worried about, hers or yours? Should I shut her up in her suite like some crazed animal? Should I let her pine away within four walls? Or let her go crashing down the deep dry well of her memories until she finds herself on the bottom, alone, in the dark, forgotten?

  "Don't you see," he said, his eyes moving off me and in the direction of the house, "I can't bear the thought of her shut away in some institution.

  "She was once very beautiful and very precious to me," he added, turning back in Jillian's direction. "Like a fine, hand-painted piece of china. Oh, she was terrified of getting older, of not being desirable and beautiful, and I'm sure the realization that she couldn't prevent it contributed to the way she is today, but don't you see?" he said, taking hold of both my arms just under the elbows . . . "In a strangely beautiful way, she has it . . eternal youth and beauty. Her madness has given it to her.