A Perfect Stranger (26 page)

But why, for God's sake, why?

Because if you have no honor, Raphaella, I do. You are breaking every promise you ever made when you married John Henry. You are disgracing me as well as yourself. And I will not have a whore for a daughter. And if you refuse to comply with what I'm asking, I will tell you simply that you leave me no choice but to tell John Henry what you've done.

For God's sake, Papa' please' . She was sobbing almost hysterically now. This is my life' you'll kill him ' Papa' please' .

You're a disgrace to my name, Raphaella. He stared at her without coming closer and then went to his chair behind the desk again and sat down.

She looked at him, understanding the horror of what had happened, and for the first time in her life hating someone as she never had before. If Kay had stood in the same room with her at that moment, she would have killed her, gladly, and with her bare hands. Instead she turned to her father with a look of despair.

But, Papa' why why must you do this? I'm a grown woman' you have no right

I have every right. You have obviously been too long in America, my dear. And perhaps, also, you have been too long on a loose leash, while your husband has been sick. Madame Willard tells me that she tried to reason with you but that you and this man persist. She tells me that if it were not for you, he would go back to his wife, that if it were not for you, he could settle down and have children. He looked at her reproachfully. How can you do that to someone you pretend to love? His words and the look on his face were like a knife cutting through her, and his gaze never wavered from her eyes. But my concern is not with this man, it is with your husband. It is to him that you should feel the strongest allegiance. And I'm quite serious, Raphaella, I will tell him.

It will kill him. She spoke very quietly, her eyes still pouring tears down her face.

Yes, her father said curtly. It will kill him. And his blood will be on your hands. I want you to think about that in Santa Eugenia. And I want you to know why I made arrangements for you to leave tonight. He stood up and there was suddenly an air of dismissal on the granitelike face of her father. I will not have a whore under my roof, Raphaella, not even for one night. He walked to the door of his study then, pulled it open, bowed slightly, and waved her outside. He stared at her long and hard for an endless moment as she shivered, looking ravaged by what had passed between them, and he only shook his head and spoke two words to her. Good afternoon. And then he shut the door firmly behind her, and she had to walk to the nearest chair and sit down.

She felt so sick and shaky that she felt sure she would faint in a moment. But she just sat there, dazed, horrified, hurt, embarrassed, angry. How could he do this to her? And had Kay known what she was doing? Could she possibly have known the cataclysmic effect her letter would have? Raphaella sat stunned for more than half an hour, and then, glancing at her watch, she realized that since her father had changed her flight she would have to leave the house then and there.

She walked slowly to the staircase, with a backward glance toward her father's study. She had no desire to say good-bye to him now. He had said everything he had to say, and she knew that he would turn up at Santa Eugenia. But she didn't give a damn what he did, or threatened or said, he had no right to interfere with her life with Alex. And she didn't give a damn what he threatened to do to her. She wouldn't give Alex up. She marched down the stairs to the front hallway, put on the little black straw hat with the veil, and picked up her bag. She realized now that her valises had never been taken out of the Citro+1/2n and that the chauffeur was still standing just outside the door. In effect she had been banished from her father's house, but she was so angry that she didn't care. He had treated her all her life like an object, a piece of furniture, some kind of chattel, and she would not let him do that.

In San Francisco, at the same time as Raphaella was being driven back to the airport outside Paris, Alex had just received a most unusual call. He sat staring at his folded hands at his desk and wondered why he had received the call. It most certainly had to do with Raphaella, but more than that he did not know. And he felt an odd and terrible weight as he waited for the appointed hour. At five minutes after nine that morning, he had received a call from one of John Henry's secretaries and had been asked to come to the house that morning, if he could. He had told him only that Mr. Phillips wanted to see him on a personal matter of considerable importance. Further explanation was not offered and he didn't dare ask. Immediately after he had hung up, he had dialed his sister, but Congresswoman Willard was not available that morning, and he knew that there was nowhere else to seek an answer. He would have to wait until he saw John Henry in another two hours. He feared above all that someone had told him and now the old man was going to tell him not to see Raphaella again. Perhaps he had already spoken to her himself and she hadn't told Alex. Perhaps he had already arranged with her family to keep her in Spain. But he sensed something terrible about to happen, and due to John Henry's advanced age and the obvious gravity of the situation, he couldn't refuse to go and see him, but he would have liked to, he thought as he parked his car across the street from the house.

Slowly he crossed to the enormous oak door he had seen so often. He rang the bell and waited, and a moment later a serious-faced butler appeared. Alex felt, for a moment, as though each member of the household knew his crime and was about to pass judgment on him. He was a small boy about to be scolded for stealing apples but no, this was much, much worse. If he had allowed himself, he would have been truly terrified. But he felt that this was an instance in which he had absolutely no choice. He owed it to John Henry Phillips to appear before him, no matter what the old man chose to do or say.

The butler led him to the main hall, where a maid escorted him upstairs; and outside John Henry's suite of rooms an elderly man walked toward Alex, smiled benignly, and thanked him for coming to see Mr. Phillips on such short notice. He identified himself as Mr. Phillips's secretary, and Alex recognized the voice he had heard on the phone.

Very kind of you to come so quickly. This is most unusual for Mr. Henry. He hasn't asked anyone to come here to see him in several years. But I gather that this is a somewhat urgent personal matter, and he thought that you might be able to help him. Once again Alex felt apprehensive.

Certainly. He found himself muttering inanities to the ancient secretary and wondered if he was going to faint as they waited for a nurse to usher them inside. Is he very ill? It was a stupid question he knew as the man nodded, since he knew from Raphaella just how sick John Henry was, but he found himself totally unnerved just from being here outside John Henry's bedroom doorway, in her home. These were the halls she walked every day. This was the house in which she had breakfast each morning, to which she came after she left him, after they had made love.

Mr. Hale ' The nurse had opened the door and the secretary beckoned. For a moment Alex seemed to falter, and then he walked toward the doorway, feeling like a man going to his own execution, but at least he was going in style. He would not disgrace her, neither by proving himself a coward in refusing to come here or by looking less than appropriate when he did. He had stopped at home to change his clothes for a dark pin-striped suit he had bought in London, white shirt, and Dior tie but even that didn't help as he crossed the threshold and looked at the shrunken figure in the massive antique bed.

Mr. Phillips? Alex's voice was barely more than a whisper, as behind him both the secretary and the nurse instantly disappeared. They were alone now, the two men who loved Raphaella, one so beaten and so old and so broken, the other so young and tall as he stood looking at the man Raphaella had married fifteen years before.

Please come in. His speech was garbled and difficult to understand, but it was as though Alex sensed his words with ease, so attuned was he to what was coming. He had felt more of a man because he had come so willingly to accept whatever anger or insults John Henry chose to hurl at him, but he felt less of a man now when he realized how small and pained his opponent was. John Henry waved vaguely toward a chair near the bed, indicating to Alex to take it, but there was nothing vague about the sharp blue eyes that watched him, taking his measure, inch by inch, hair by hair. Alex sat down cautiously in the chair, wishing that he would wake up in his bed to find that this had only been an anxious dream. It was one of those moments in a lifetime that one would like to wish away.

I want to ' He labored with his speech but his eyes never left Alex as he did so, and even now there was about him the aura of command. There was nothing overbearing about him, just a kind of quiet strength, even in his broken condition; one sensed that this had once been a great man. It was easier now to understand what he might once have been to Raphaella, and why she still loved him now. There was more than loyalty here, there was someone very special, and for an instant Alex felt shame at what they had done. I want ' John Henry struggled on, fighting with the side of his mouth that no longer chose to move, to thank you' for coming. It was then that Alex realized that the eyes were not only piercing but also kind. Alex nodded at him, not quite sure what to say. Yes, sir would have seemed appropriate. He felt in awe of this man.

Yes. Your secretary said that it was important. They both knew that this was the understatement of the year. Despite the crippled mouth John Henry attempted to smile.

Indeed, Mr. Hale ' indeed. And then after a brief pause, I hope ' I did not ' frighten you ' in asking you ' He seemed barely able to finish but determined to do so. It was rough going for them both. ' to come here. It is very important, he said more clearly, to all three ' of us ' I do not need to explain.

I Should he deny it? Alex wondered. But there had been no accusation. There had only been the truth. I understand.

Good. John Henry nodded, looking pleased. I love my wife very much, Mr. Hale' . The eyes were strangely bright. So much so that it has pained me' terribly' to keep her trapped here, while I' I am a prisoner of this useless, finished body' and she goes on' chained to me ' He looked grief stricken as his eyes reached out toward Alex ' like this. It is not a life for a' young' woman' yet' she is very good to me.

Alex couldn't stop himself then. And his voice was hoarse as he spoke. She loves you a great deal. He felt ever more the intruder. They were the lovers. He was the interloper. It was the first time he had truly understood. She was this man's wife, not his. And by virtue of what they felt for each other, she belonged here. And yet, could he truly believe that? John Henry was a very old man, approaching death by infinitely small, measured steps. As he himself seemed to know, it was a cruel existence for her. He looked at Alex helplessly now.

This has been a terrible thing to do' to her.

You didn't wish it.

There was the ghost of a smile. No ' I did not ' but ' it happened ' and still ' I live on ' and I torment her.

That's not true. They sat here like two old friends, each acknowledging the other's existence and importance, it was a very strange moment in both men's lives. She doesn't resent one moment of her time with you. Again he had had to fight the urge to add Sir.

But she should' resent it. He closed his eyes for a moment. I do. He opened his eyes again and they were as sharp as before. I resent it' for her' and for me' . But I did not ask you here to tell you my regrets' and my sorrows' I called you here to ask you ' about you.

Alex's heart pounded and he decided to take the bull by the horns. May I ask you how you know of me? Had he known all along? Did he have her followed by servants as a routine?

I received' a letter.

Alex felt a strange flame within him begin to glow. May I ask from whom?

I do not' know.

It was anonymous?

John Henry nodded. It told me only' that' you and ' He didn't seem to want to say her name in Alex's presence, it was enough that they sat here together, speaking the truth. That you and she had been involved for' almost a year. He began to cough softly, and Alex worried, but John Henry waved his hand to indicate that all was well, and a moment later he went on. It gave me your address and telephone number, explained that you' are' an attorney' and it said quite clearly' that I would be wise' to put a stop to this. He looked at Alex with curiosity. Why is that so? Was the letter' from your wife? He seemed disturbed, but Alex shook his head.

I don't have a wife. I've been divorced for several years.

Is she' still' jealous? He fought to go on.

No. I believe the letter you received was from my sister. She's a politician. A congresswoman, in fact. And she is a dreadful, selfish, evil woman. She thinks that if any word of this my er our involvement ever leaked out it would damage her politically, because of the scandal.

She is probably' right. John Henry nodded his head. But does anyone know? He found that hard to believe. Raphaella would always above all be discreet.

No. Alex was adamant. No one. Only my niece, and she adores Raphaella and is very able to keep our secret.

Is she a small child? John Henry seemed to smile.

She is seventeen and she is the daughter of that same sister. In recent months Amanda, my niece, has been staying with me. She was injured on Thanksgiving Day and while her mother has been most unkind to her, your er Raphaella he decided to go ahead and say it has been wonderful to her. His eyes lit with warmth as he said the words, and John Henry smiled again.

She would be wonderful ' in a case like that. She is a most ' unusual ' person. On that they both agreed, and then his face grew sad. She should have had ' children. And then, Perhaps ' one day ' she will. Alex said nothing. At last John Henry went on. So, you think it is ' your sister.

I do. Did she threaten you in any way in the letter?