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"And besides," she continued, pacing slowly at the side of my bed as she lectured like a college professor, "there are times you just don't feel like having intimate contact with your husband. Men can be so insistent, so annoying with their male drives and needs. They'll pester you to death until you give in to their lust.

"If you have your own rooms, you can simply close the door and shut off all that vexatious, irritating, and aggravating behavior. If you want to remain youthful and beautiful-looking, you've got to be a little selfish, Leigh. You would think a man could be considerate and understand, especially a man who claims to love you, but men can't control themselves sometimes. The sexual urge is much more demanding for them.

"But," she said waving her hand in the air, "I'm sure you know most of this by now."

"Oh no, Momma. I don't."

"Really? How innocent and sweet you are," she said looking at me as if she saw me for the first time. "When I was your age. . ." She paused and bit down on her lower lip. "Well, those were different times. I didn't have a quarter of what you had and I was exposed to a different crowd of people. We grew up faster.

"In fact," she added after a deep sigh, "I lost half my childhood, lost that wonderful innocent time when the world looks so rosy and nothing seems more tragic than not being invited to a party or having a pimple on your face."

I started to laugh, but then thought, if Momma found a pimple on her face now, she would think it was the end of the world. In that way she wasn't so different from my girlfriends.

"So," she said returning to the moment, "just remain in bed. Stay cozy and warm. Tony's having your dinner sent up."

"I could get dressed and join you in the dining room. I feel fine," I protested.

"No, no. You've had a shock. I'll stop by after dinner, we'll have that talk about my honeymoon." She left.

A little while later, Tony had my dinner sent up. He made it into a major production, just to amuse me, I was sure. A different maid brought each course, and Curtis brought up my entree. Then Tony appeared with the dessert himself, a short towel over his arm like a waiter. I found myself unable to resist laughing.

"Now that's the face I need to see," he responded. He stepped back after placing the custard pie on my bed table. I felt myself blush. "I'm glad you're feeling better. Had enough to eat?"

"Oh yes, thank you. But I could have easily come down."

"That's all right. You have to get used to being pampered. You're going to live like a princess now," he said, his voice soft, enticing. "Farthy is a palace; the Tattertons are an empire." He looked so serious, I didn't crack a smile. "I wanted to buy you an entirely new wardrobe and told Jillian not to even bother moving any of your things from Boston, but she insisted on bringing some things."

"I have a lot of new things, things I haven't even worn yet," I said. "I don't need an entire new wardrobe."

"We'll see. Anyway, can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you. Is Troy all right?"

"Fast asleep, but I expect he'll be one of the first up in the morning, so expect him to come crashing through your door once he learns you've slept over. I didn't tell him, but he's a Tatterton, and like me, he senses everything new and different in Farthy. It's a part of us and we are a part of it. There's an uncanny, almost eerie connection between the Tattertons and our home," he said, looking about my room as if the house indeed could feel and listen and know the things that happened in it and were said in it. "It absorbs us, our history, our passions, our hopes and dreams," he added in a voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were dreamy and faraway-looking and I thought he'd forgotten I was in the room with him. His love of his home was so intense, it was frightening.

"That's why I hope you will forget the bad experience you had today in the maze," he said looking down at me, his eyes narrow, ice blue. "Don't blame Farthy. I want you to grow to love this place as much as I do."

"I don't blame anyone or anything. It was just a stupid mistake," I said.

He was silent, and I grew nervous and felt I should say more.

"From the moment I saw it, I thought Farthy was beautiful . . . like a storybook kingdom."

"Yes," he said. "A storybook kingdom," he whispered, his eyes glassy, far-off. There was another long moment of silence between us and then he slapped his hands together. "Okay, I'll leave you to eat your delectable dessert. Someone will be up shortly to collect your dishes. Have a good night's sleep, Leigh," he said coming over to me. "Can I kiss you good night?"

I hesitated. Was this another betrayal of Daddy? Whenever he was home, he came to kiss me good night. But Tony looked so sincere and sorry, I couldn't refuse him. He had been so concerned about me. It wasn't fair to him either, I thought. I nodded and he leaned over and kissed me softly on the forehead, his lips lingering a little longer than I expected.

And then he was gone.

The servants arrived and took away my dishes. I stared at the empty door, listening to the vague sounds from below. I drifted in and out of sleep, dozing off a few minutes at a time and then waking with a sudden start and realizing where I was and what had happened.

Momma came into my bedroom just before going to her own suite, as she had promised. But instead of talking about her honeymoon plans, she told me all about the dinner, some of the guests they had, rambling on about the service, the dishes, the various topics of conversation. Her monologue made me even sleepier, and when my eyes closed in the middle of one of her sentences, she declared it was time for her to go to sleep, too.

"We want to have an early breakfast and go off to Boston," she said and kissed me good night. At the doorway, she turned and laughed, a thin, high-pitched laugh.

"What a strange and yet wonderful day this has been," she said. "I have a feeling all our days will be just as exciting from now on. You'll help me see to that, won't you Leigh?"

I opened my eyes and looked at Momma in puzzlement. What could she possibly mean? Wouldn't marrying Tony make her every dream come true? What did I have to do with her happiness?