House of Secrets

by V. C. Andrews

  “He knew the truth.”

  “And he still wanted to be with you?”

  “Yes. He knew the whole truth, including how and why it happened.”

  “Did he know some of the staff suspected him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he was good with that?”

  “He was good with being with me. That was more important to him.”

  “But not more important than staying with his wife and children.”

  “No, not more important than that.”

  “Did you stay in Wyndemere only because of him? You could have lived somewhere else close by and still seen him whenever you wanted, couldn’t you?”

  “Staying here was something Dr. Davenport wanted me to do very much. He trusted me with Ryder, and it’s not that easy out there for a young woman with a child and no clear path to a means of self-support. I certainly wasn’t going back to England. My father would have been beside himself with glee if I showed up with a child and had no husband.”

  “Did your mother and your sister really ever know about me?”

  “After I learned my father had died, I sent them pictures of you. Someday you’ll meet my sister, I hope.”

  “And Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark always knew the truth, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s why he’s so devoted to us. He always felt sorry for us.”

  “I like to think it’s more than simply pity. He’s grown quite fond of you, of us both.”

  “And now Ryder will know,” I said, more to myself than to her, as the realization of what all this meant sank deeper into me.

  “Yes, and now you both know.” She started out.

  “You’ve got to hate it here,” I said.

  She stopped, thought a moment, and turned back to me. “For all its faults, all its dark history, this is still Wyndemere. It’s too big and classic to disregard, and it gives you the feeling it’s immortal and as protective as a fortress. The grounds are beautiful, and ordinarily the lake is a jewel. Maybe it will be that to us all again. Sunlight has a way of erasing ugliness. I guess I’d feel like Eve leaving the Garden of Eden or something if I left.”

  “Wyndemere? The Garden of Eden?”

  She shrugged. “As one of our own English poets wrote, ‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.’ ”

  She left.

  I closed my eyes and once again saw Ryder looking down at me with such love in the rowboat. I listened to him making promises, and then I welcomed his kiss.

  We were saved out there.

  But we were drowned soon after we were rescued.

  Epilogue

  I DIDN’T GO to the hospital to see Ryder. After I ate some breakfast, I fell asleep again. The weight of the ordeal and the weight of the truth were too much. I slept until almost two. It was very quiet when I awoke. For a few moments, I lay there listening. I thought I heard someone moving out in the kitchen.

  “Mummy?” I called. I sat up.

  A few seconds later, Dr. Davenport stepped into my doorway.

  As usual, he was dressed in a dark-blue suit and a light-blue tie. Because he was so unexpected, I gasped at the sight of him. I thought he looked taller than ever. His face was in shadow.

  “Didn’t mean to surprise you,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  He nodded and stepped in, gazing around my room. “I can’t remember when I was over here last,” he said.

  “I do. It was a long time ago. More than a year, in fact.”

  “Yes. My mother always wanted to do something with this section of Wyndemere, redecorate it some foolish way. My father wouldn’t permit it, wouldn’t waste a nickel if he could help it. He was very no-nonsense when it came to most of his spending. If he was flying anywhere himself, he’d never go first class. And he had his Mercedes for over ten years. Instead of buying new suits, he’d have his old ones tailored, and he was famous for putting new soles on old shoes instead of buying new ones. My mother did all the excess spending. Maybe that’s why he was so frugal with himself. He was trying to balance the books.”

  “How’s Ryder?” I asked. I was happy to hear him talk about his parents, something he had never done with me, but I was afraid he was doing it simply to avoid telling me something very bad.

  “He’s okay. Banged up a bit. I have him on an antibiotic to prevent any lung infection, but all the tests run on him were negative. There’ll be no permanent physical damage, I’m sure. I had him released and brought home to his own room to rest. I told Parker we’re even. I performed a bypass on him that saved his life, and he saved Ryder’s.”

  “Why did you say ‘no physical damage’? What other damage is there?”

  “Well, aside from the guilt he’s feeling for having risked your life as well as his own, he’s learned some things, life-changing things you’ve learned as well. The combination is pretty heavy to bear for him at the moment, as I’m sure it is for you. Mind if I sit?” he asked, nodding at the chair by my vanity table.

  “No.”

  He pulled it out and placed it beside the bed. I pulled my legs back and sat up against my pillows. I could never recall a time when he and I sat so close to each other. He clasped his hands and placed them on his lap. I hadn’t noticed the thin, white strands invading his pecan-brown hair. Now, this close to him, I could see the fatigue in his eyes. It occurred to me that he must have been up all night, looking after Ryder, overseeing every test.

  “You got a little bit scraped up, I understand. Blisters on your hands?” He reached for them. I held out my hands, and he looked at the palms. “They’ll be fine. My grandmother used to have my grandfather soak his feet in green tea for his foot blisters. Actually worked. Modern medicine has some things to learn from the old household remedies.”

  He was still holding my hands. I looked at them and at him, and he let go and sat back.

  “I sensed, of course, that things were beginning to develop between the two of you,” he said. “Ryder was always very protective of you, something I admired in him, but lately, it began to take on other aspects. He’s been a lot more emotional whenever anything referred to you or whenever you were mentioned.

  “First, let me tell you that none of this is your fault or his. If anyone’s to blame, it has to be me, solely me. Your mother is about as close to an angel as any human being could be. I guess I can say I’ve had the best of two worlds, because I’ve had you both here, under my roof, watching you grow and mature into a fine young lady.”

  “But not as your daughter,” I said. “Until now.”

  “Yes, until now.” He looked down at his hands, those long fingers entwined. He was silent so long that I thought he wasn’t going to continue, but he looked up again. “What happened between your mother and me was not because she and I were lovers. She, as I know she has told you, was the surrogate mother who carried Ryder. After she was impregnated, she was everything a pregnant woman should be. She was vigilant when it came to protecting her health and the health of the baby she was carrying.”

  “Does Ryder know this now? That my mother carried him?”

  “Yes. He and I talked for quite a while this morning. I described it all. My first wife was very fond of your mother, not because she was pregnant with her fertilized egg but because there was a genuine love and friendship between them. They hit it off immediately,” he said, smiling as he recalled. “I used to be jealous of how well those two could get along. Samantha did far more with your mother than she did with me during those days and shortly afterward. They were more like sisters. In my mind’s eye, I could never envision them separated. I was very happy your mother agreed to stay on past the time allotted.

  “There was never any doubt in my mind that she took Samantha’s death as hard as a sister would, almost as hard as I did. She was a great comfort to me. I don’t think I would have gone on in my work if it wasn’t for your mother. I was drawn to her for all th
ose reasons, and then, well, she became something of a surrogate wife as well.

  “Perhaps I took advantage of her. No, I definitely took advantage of her, and when she became pregnant with you, I felt an even deeper bond with her, but the love she sought for herself, the love she deserved, was not housed in me. It was her particular misfortune to fall in love with someone who couldn’t be her life’s mate. She tells me that you know who that is.”

  “I do. When I think of them parting, I want to cry.”

  “Yes, two very unselfish people. As long as I’ve known your mother, though, she’s been that way. It was your mother’s choice to keep our secret. What did I really have to offer to oppose that? Life as the wife of a man she didn’t really love, a man who, when he faced the truth, admitted he was making love to his dead wife’s memory? It wasn’t fair to ask your mother, anyone, to be someone she’s not just to make someone like me happy. You might be too young to understand that now; it might sound like I’m grasping for some excuse, but perhaps in time you’ll understand. We human beings are a lot more complex than we think.

  “I know you suffered because of the way we handled your birth. It’s not enough for me to tell you that everything you need and will need has been set aside for you. That doesn’t make it all disappear, but you should know that is true.”

  “I’m not as surprised about all this as you might think. I’ve always believed Wyndemere was a house full of secrets,” I said.

  “They do seem to enjoy it here,” he said.

  “Like the secret of your little sister?”

  He looked up quickly. “Yes.”

  “Have you told Ryder that, too?”

  “Not yet, but he’ll know everything about Wyndemere and the Davenports now. I can promise you that. I just thought for now, he has quite a bit to digest. Truth is probably best learned and understood in small doses.” He smiled. “I guess I can’t help sounding like a doctor, prescribing.

  “And so we come to this, you and Ryder. What am I to say about that? Here I am, a well-known and respected cardiologist who underestimated the power of the heart. I was too close to it to understand, to see what was right there in front of me, what was always right there in front of me.

  “As a result, I’ve delivered quite a bit of unhappiness to people I should have protected and loved more. I can say I’m sorry, and someday I hope you and Ryder will forgive me. The truth is, I’m having a hard time forgiving myself. Only your mother has the will and the power to be compassionate enough for that. I’m so happy you have her and she has you. I hope you feel the same way and you don’t blame her for anything.”

  “I love my mother. Nothing will change that.”

  He smiled and nodded. Then he slapped his knees and stood. “From this day forward, a bit too late, I’m sure, Wyndemere is your home, every part of it, anywhere in it you wish to go. Whenever your mother permits, I want you to have meals with your sister, Sam. She’s going to need a real big sister, for sure. Ryder will be there from time to time. He graduates soon, and he and I decided—actually, he decided—that he should do some traveling with some friends this summer before he starts college. It was something he had discussed with me a while back. I reminded him, and he thought that would be a good idea now. You both need a new start with a new identity, but yours involves being more of a Davenport.”

  “What about Bea?” I asked.

  “Bea and I have drifted pretty far apart. We have some new understandings to develop if we’re to continue. She’ll be a challenge for us both. Bea never was much of that for Ryder,” he said. “But the most important person in the middle of that is Sam. Her needs come before my own and my wife’s happiness. And that’s now true for you as well. So. Is there anything you need right now?” he asked.

  He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking sad and, for the first time, really sweet and warm to me. Gone was that pedestal on which he stood and looked down at all of us. He wasn’t a doctor at the moment; he was a father.

  “Yes,” I said. I pulled away my blanket and stood. “Something I’ve waited a long time to get.”

  “Which is?”

  “A hug from my father,” I said.

  His smile came like Ryder’s often did, rippling through his face tentatively at first, frightened about being wrong, and then blossoming with a twinkle in his eyes that could rival stars. He embraced me and kissed my forehead and said, “Welcome home.”

  I watched him walk out, no longer looking ten feet tall and made of stone. He was, like everyone, desperate to be loved. That certainly made me his daughter.

  I suddenly felt a new burst of energy and quickly went about getting dressed, doing my hair, putting on a little lipstick, and starting out through the hallway. I stopped after a few feet and smiled to myself. Then I turned around and went out the door.

  What a contrast today was to the day Ryder and I chose to be on the lake. There wasn’t a cloud in the deep azure sky. There was a warm breeze gently caressing branches and their vibrant green leaves. Yesterday the grass had been cut, and the air was perfumed with its scent. There were even more birds, robins and sparrows threading through trees, hummingbirds madly circling a rosebush, and two beautiful orioles floating over the front lawn. On such a day, Wyndemere’s austere look retreated, and I could easily understand why my mother was so attached to it. Truthfully, I was, too. I simply hadn’t been permitted to love it as much as I could, as I should, secrets and all.

  I hurried to the front door, took a deep breath, and entered the house. For a moment, I stood there and looked at everything the way a stranger might. It was as if I was seeing it all for the first time. After all, it was my home now, too. When I looked at the Davenport family portraits, I no longer looked at them as I would look at some historical people whose pictures belonged in museums, their clothes and hairdos vaguely interesting to someone exploring a previous time in history. Now they were my relatives, too. Who had any resemblance to me?

  I looked at every antique, every piece of furniture, differently, moving slowly through the large entryway toward the stairway. At the entrance to the sitting room on the right, I paused. Bea Davenport and my father were sitting on settees opposite each other. They had obviously been in deep conversation. They both looked at me. Bea’s eyes widened with surprise and then quickly went back to normal. She looked at my father and looked away. He didn’t smile. He nodded. I smiled, and then I hurried to the stairway and walked up. I turned right at the top and walked slowly to Ryder’s room. The door was closed. I knocked softly, and then I opened it.

  He was lying in bed, his eyes closed, but when he opened them, he sat up quickly.

  “Fern! How are you?”

  “How am I? How are you? You’re the one who was in the hospital,” I said, moving to his bed.

  “It’s like I can’t remember much about it. I mean, I remember how hard we worked at trying to get back, but everything after that is a blur.”

  I sat at his feet and gently rubbed his leg. “Maybe that’s better. You’ll have fewer nightmares than I will.”

  “I’m sorry. I was stupid.”

  “We were both stupid. You do know Parker saved you, though, right?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He lay back against his pillow. “And I know a lot more, too, as I know you do.”

  I nodded. “Dr. Davenport came to see me this morning, came to my room.”

  “You mean our father came to your room,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  He looked down and then up quickly. “I don’t feel dirty or anything. I won’t let anyone say that about me or about you. I was in love with the other half of you. That’s how I see it. I mean, I won’t stop caring for you more than I would any other girl, but . . .”

  “It’ll be different. Yes, that’s a good way to think of it. I was in love with your other half, too.”

  “I think I always sensed it, sensed who we really were to each other. Everything fits now, especially why your mother is so important to me. I thin
k of her as my mother, which only makes you more my sister.”

  I reached for his hand.

  Neither of us spoke, and then he shook his head and turned away. “It’s just not fair, is it? It’s like a big joke was pulled on us.”

  “Yes, it does feel like that,” I said.

  “My father shouldn’t have let this go on.”

  “No, and he knows it. There isn’t much we can do about it except perhaps forgive.”

  “I’m not ready, but . . . I will,” he said.

  “Yes, you will. So. I understand you’re going to do some traveling?”

  “Right after graduation. Terry Hudson has been after me to join him on a trip to England, sightseeing, history. His father is the head of radiology at the hospital.”

  “England. How ironic. You’re going to my homeland.”

  “You’ll get there. I’m sure your mother will take you to see her sister, see where she lived.”

  “She said she would. I’ll look forward to that.”

  We heard someone open the door and saw Sam move tentatively into the room.

  “Hey,” Ryder called. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Nothing. You drowned,” she said, close to tears.

  “No. Just a big, deep dip in the lake. Come on in. Fern and I were talking about having a picnic next weekend. I’ll set up the badminton net. You love that.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Right, Fern?”

  “Absolutely. You and I will beat his pants off.”

  Sam laughed. I reached out for her, and she took my hand. I patted the bed, and she sat beside me.

  “Look at us,” Ryder said. “The Wyndemere children.”

  “Houses don’t have children,” Sam said.

  Ryder and I looked at each other.

  “Sometimes they do,” I said. “It’s just another secret.”

  The next chapter in V.C. Andrews' new series: The Girls of Spindrift.

  Mayfair

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