Casteel 05 Web of Dreams (3 page)

"Troy, meet Jillian's daughter Leigh. Leigh, this is Troy Langdon Tatterton," Tony said and smiled widely, for Troy had not let go of my hand. I knelt down to look into his face.
"You want to go on the tour, too?" I asked and he nodded quickly and reached out for me to take him into my arms. I hugged him to me and lifted him. I looked up and caught Tony Tatterton staring at me with his intense blue eyes. His eyes held mine for a moment, making me very uncomfortable, then he laughed.
"A lady-killer. I knew it," Tony said. "You must be someone very special though, Leigh. He's usually rather shy around people he first meets."
I blushed and looked away quickly. If anything, I was the shy one, I thought. But little Troy looked so delicate, I didn't want to do anything to hurt his feelings.
"Oh he won't be shy around me. Will you, Troy?" He shook his head.
"Great," Tony said. "Let's tour the house and then go outside to see the pool and the horses. After lunch, we'll all take a walk to the beach. But Leigh can't carry you everywhere, Troy. You're too big and heavy now."
"It's all right," I said. "I'm sure Troy will want to walk by himself soon anyway, right Troy?" He nodded and studied me closely. I saw a fear in his eyes, a fear that I would drop him and ignore him. "Maybe Troy can tell me about things and show me things too. Can you, Troy?" He nodded. "Okay, we're ready."
Tony laughed again and he and Momma led us out. Perhaps no room in the big house was as impressive as the dining room. It was as big as a banquet hall with the longest table I had ever seen. While we were there, the cook came out of the kitchen and Tony introduced him to us. I could see Tony was very proud of him. He had discovered him on a trip to New Orleans and brought him back to be his personal chef. His name was Ryse Williams and he was a very warm and happy black man who had a way of speaking that made his words sound like music. He promised to fix us "a lunch so special, our stomiks wouldn't stop thankin' us fer days."
My arms got so tired I thought they might have stretched several inches and I put Troy down for our walk up the marble staircase. He was anxious for me to see his room. All the bedrooms upstairs were really suites, each with its own sitting room. Troy's sitting room was so filled with toys, it looked like a toy store.
"Hasn't your mother told you about my business?" Tony asked, seeing my astonishment. I shook my head. "You mean, she didn't tell you you were going to see the king of the toy makers?" He and Momma looked at each other as if that were a private joke. I shook my head again, confused by both the conversation and the amused looks between Momma and this intense, handsome young man.
"Why would she call you king of the toy makers?" I asked while Troy went to his pile of toys to pick out something special to show me.
"It's how we've built our fortune," he said. He saw the way my eyes widened with interest and he smiled, a small tight smile . . . amused. "I can see you have been a deprived child, not to have ever been given a Tatterton Toy. Jillian, you should be ashamed of yourself," he kidded.
"Please, I have enough trouble getting her father to buy her the proper things for a young girl," Momma replied archly. Tony and she stared at each other for a moment as if they had discussed this before and then he turned back to me.
"Our toys are special, Leigh. They are not ordinary toys made of plastic. What we make is really meant for collectors, for wealthy people who cannot grow up and forget they are no longer children. Perhaps some still regret their memories of being poor when there was barely anything under their Christmas trees or anything for their birthdays.
"Do you see the castle with the moat there?" he said, pointing to the far left corner of Troy's bedroom. "That was handmade by one of my craftsmen. If you look closely at it, you'll see the detailed work. Each toy is only one of a kind, so each is special and valuable. Those who can afford it set up their own kingdom, you might say."
I walked over to look at the castle.
"There are even tiny people, servants, peasants, lords and ladies!" I exclaimed. "Are all your toys so perfect?"
"Yes, they are, or I won't let them be sold." His velvet sleeve brushed mine as he stepped beside me and I caught the rich scent of his expensive cololgne and after-shave. "And we make games too, but games that are so difficult they keep the best minds intrigued for hours and hours." He looked at Momma again and they smiled at each other as before, like they shared a private joke.
Rich people tend to get bored faster. Some of them are always bored, and that's when they turn to collectibles, be they antiques or my toys. There are people in this country who have so much money, they don't have the time to spend it. I provide them another outlet, a place to find fantasy.
"If you came with me to one of my toy shops, you'd think you were stepping into a fairyland. In my stores people can enter any time period they desire, be it the past or the future. We find they are more interested in the past. Maybe they're afraid of the future," he concluded philosophically.
I stared at him. He spoke about his customers as if they were to be pitied. I didn't think he really respected them, and yet, they provided the income for him to keep up this magnificent estate.
"See," Troy urged and pulled on my skirt. I looked down to see him clutching a metal fire truck almost as big as he was. All the parts on it were movable and some were detachable. The small firemen had faces molded and painted in such detail, each had a distinctly different look. Troy pressed a button and a siren went off.
"That's wonderful, Troy," I said. "I bet you have so much fun with it."
"Wanna play?" he asked.
"Leigh can't play with your toys right now, Troy," Tony explained. "We're taking her on a tour, remember?"
He looked heartbroken.
"We'll play later," I said. "I promise, okay?"
He nodded, his hope revived.
From his room we went to the other suites, each more luxurious and larger than the last. All the sitting rooms were fully furnished with restored nineteenthcentury pieces, some looking as if they had never been used. There was artwork everywhere, too. The bathrooms were big and ornate with brass fittings and tubs as big as small pools. There were mirrors everywhere, which made the bathrooms and the bedrooms look even larger.
Momma and Tony Tatterton walked ahead of us when we went outside to tour the grounds. They spoke so low when they talked to each other, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I probably wouldn't have heard anything anyway because of Troy. I held his hand as we walked along the pathways through the landscaped gardens and lawn toward the pool and cabana, and he began a remarkable monologue for a little boy his age. Once he had warmed up to me, he revealed just how precocious he was.
"Boris the garden man is going to make little trees grow there," he said pointing of to the right where two grounds men were working. "The flowers are dead, but after the winter, they'll be more and more 'cause Boris says he's going to plant more different ones this time.
"He's the boss of the maze, too," Troy said, obviously very impressed with that.
"The maze?"
He pointed off to my right and I saw it. The walls of hedges looked twelve or thirteen feet high at least.
"How far does it go?" I asked.
"All the way down there," Troy pointed, "and to the little cottage."
"Little cottage?"
"Uh-huh." He nodded and then let go of my hand and ran up to Tony, pulling on the bottom of his smoking jacket.
"Leigh wants to go in the maze! Leigh wants to go in the maze!" he chanted.
"Oh?" Tony and Momma turned back to me.
"I didn't say that. He's a little imp. But it might be fun," I added looking toward it.
"You've got to be careful going in there," Tony warned. "People actually get lost in there."
"It's that big and deep?" I asked, intrigued.
"Oh yes. I never actually measured it, but Boris, my head grounds keeper, thinks it's at least a half an acre, if not more."
"Let's go in the maze, Tony!" Troy cried. "Let's go in the maze!"
"Maybe afterward, Troy. We've got to show Leigh the pool and the stables and take her down to the beach, don't we? There's just too much to do in one day," he added shaking his head. "I'm afraid you'll have to come back here again and again, otherwise Troy will get very upset."
I looked at Momma. She was smiling like a Cheshire cat, grinning from ear to ear.
"Maybe you'll return next weekend," Tony said. "Yes, please, please," Troy pleaded.
"I . . . we're going away next weekend, but when we come back. . ."
"Going away?" Tony turned abruptly to Momma. "I don't remember you mentioning any trip."
"I learned about it myself only last night," she said. I was surprised at how displeased about it she sounded. But why? I wondered. She had wanted this trip so much. "We'll talk about it later," she added softly to Tony and turned so they would continue the tour. Their conversation, although just as low, became more animated with both of them gesturing. Tony was probably just worried about his unfinished murals, I told myself.
Little Troy began to whine about the maze again.
"All right," I told him. "You and I will just run in and out of it after we look at the pool, okay?"
"Okay." He took my hand again and looked up at me, very pleased.
"You're a little charmer, aren't you, Troy Langdon Tatterton?"
He shrugged as if he understood exactly what I meant and I laughed and laughed.
What a strange and yet wonderful place this was, I thought as we went on. It was vast and beautiful and had so many things to offer its inhabitants, but Farthinggale was so immense a place for just a bachelor and his tiny little brother. Eve
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' with an array of servants around them, they must be very lonely, I thought. Poor little Troy, I thought, by the age of four to have lost both his parents. I shivered to think of losing my own dear parents, whom I loved so much. Momma often made it sound as if money could buy happiness, but I was sure if little Troy could choose, he would choose to give p all this to get his parents back. I knew I would.
Tony let Troy run down into the olympic-size, recently emptied pool. He thought it was funny to go where the deep water had once been.
"The little tyke swims, you know," Tony whispered into my ear. "Ever since he was a year and a half old."
"Really?"
"Leigh, come in. Come in, Leigh. The water's fine." Troy laughed at his own joke. He stopped about midway and beckoned.
"It's too cold to go swimming," I cried. He looked up at me with the most grown-up expression of amazement on his face.
"I was teasing. There's no water in it," he said, holding his arms out as if he were talking to a complete idiot. I had to laugh, and so did Momma and Tony.
"All right," I said. "I'll take a dip." I walked down the steps and into the pool. He took my hand and led me to the deep end.
"I can swim from here to here," he said, pointing. After he touched the far wall, we turned to go back and out. Momma and Tony were off somewhere else. When we went up the steps, I saw them over by the cabana, again conversing in a very animated fashion and standing very close to each other. I thought Tony looked upset. Momma saw that Troy and I had reappeared and put her hand on his forearm to interrupt.
"Oh Leigh," she called, "look, there's even a small stage out here for a band to play while people swim."
"That's right," Tony said. "We have wonderful pool parties all summer: sumptuous foods and dancing into the night. Did you ever go swimming under the stars?" he asked me and pointed to the sky as if it were the middle of the night and the stars were out. I shook my head, but just talking about it sounded wonderful.
Troy tugged my arm and I looked down at his pleading eyes.
"Tony, would it be all right for me to take Troy just a little ways into the maze on the way to the stables?" I asked and nodded toward him.
"All right," he told Troy. "You can take Leigh into the maze. Enter just over there," he said pointing, "but don't go beyond the first turn," he instructed me.
"You make it sound as if it can swallow you up," I exclaimed.
His face grew serious, his cerulean blue eyes narrowing. "It can," he warned. I nodded, impressed with his concern.
"All right, Troy. We can go, but you heard what your brother said. Hold my hand and don't run off in there, understand?"
"Uh-huh." He shook his head emphatically.
"Momma?" I thought she might want to come along. "Go on," she said. "We'll wait for you."
I took Troy's hand and we walked across the grounds to the maze.
I saw from the precise, careful way little Troy entered it that he was quite taken with the maze. There was suddenly an expression of reverence and awe on his face. He held my hand tightly, and for a moment, I felt as if I had entered a church. It was so quiet. Even the chirps of the small garden birds sounded distant and faded, and the melancholy cries of the sea gulls flying overhead were muffled, faraway. The hedges were so tall that at one point, they shut of the warmth of the sun and cast long, dark shadows in our path. Yet, I found the maze serene, quietly beautiful and mysterious. When we arrived at the first turn and I looked down the next pathway that had branches leading off right and left, presenting choices that could lead a wanderer around in circles or eventually to a destination, I realized the challenge and couldn't help being just a bit excited and curious. This was probably what Tony meant when he warned the maze could swallow you up. It had a way of tempting, drawing, daring any intruder to solve its secrets. I thought I would love to come back some day by myself and try it.
"Have you ever gone farther in, Troy?" I asked.
"Oh sure. Tony takes me to the cottage sometimes. He can go right through," he said illustrating by zigzagging his palm in front of me. Then he leaned toward me, his eyes bursting with excitement, and whispered, "Wanna try it?"
"You little devil. You heard what your brother said. Now come on, let's go back. I want to see the horses next."
He pulled back and smirked like a young man at least four times his age. Then, his mind switched excited thoughts instantly, and
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he started me back toward the entrance.
"Come on, show you my pony, Sniffles, and you can ride him, okay?"
"Sniffles?" I followed him out, my laughter trailing behind, left to fade in the shadows of the maze.
Tony and Momma had walked on a ways and were having one of their animated talks again. Butterflies started in my stomach at the sight of Momma throwing back her lovely head and laughing her beautiful throaty laugh at something Tony had said. I tried to tell myself that I was just hungry for lunch. But oh, part of me was enthralled by everything in this fairytale kingdom and part wanted to run from its mysterious spell.