The Last Princess (27 page)

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Lily, there was someone in addition to Harry who felt punished by her absence. While Harry found solace in Valerie’s arms, Ellis wrestled with his unhappy dilemma alone.

Ellis had long been in love with his best friend’s wife, yet he’d always managed to restrain his romantic impulses for Harry’s sake and in deference to Lily herself. But now, with Lily away in the country and their marriage seemingly on the verge of collapse, Ellis found himself sorely torn—and sorely tempted.

Lily had just experienced a mother’s worst nightmare. Ellis could hardly take advantage of her in her present vulnerable state. Yet how, in good conscience, could he abandon her at this crucial time? Without Harry by choice, Lily was all alone. Perhaps she was finally coming to realize what Ellis had known all along but had been loath to tell her: Harry was a decent man who loved his children and his wife, but his devotion to his writing, and to himself, would always top his list of priorities. Harry was driven by an insatiable need to achieve; as a result he neglected his home and his family.

For years Ellis had watched as Lily toughed it out, rarely saying a word against Harry. But he knew that she ached with loneliness, that life with Harry was as good as life alone. What Lily needed was a loving husband, an attentive one who would place her happiness above all else. What she needed, Ellis liked to think, was a man like himself. Ellis knew he couldn’t offer Lily the thrill of being married to a literary celebrity, but he suspected that was one thrill Lily never particularly cherished. And he could offer her much. After all, he owned the most prestigious literary agency in New York City. He could provide for Lily—probably as well as Harry could—and, even more important, he would never neglect her. And he would never allow her to go into exile the way Harry seemed to permit. Ellis observed that Harry was little affected by his wife’s absence. He was working harder than ever on
The Genesis,
and it seemed writing wasn’t the only thing Harry was up to. One evening Ellis had dropped by the apartment unannounced, as was his custom. He had papers for Harry to sign. To his shock, Valerie answered the door, wrapped in Harry’s dressing robe.

“Ellis! Hello,” she had said sweetly. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Well, obviously,” he answered, coldly surveying her bare feet below the hem of the robe.

For whatever surprise Valerie feigned, she seemed genuinely pleased to be discovered.

“Harry’s taking a shower—he’ll be out in a minute. Why don’t you come in and let me fix you a drink?”

“No, thanks. Please just give these to Harry.”

Ellis never mentioned the incident to Harry, and Harry never raised it himself. But the meeting changed the way Ellis regarded his friend. The agent’s thoughts ran straight to Lily. Did she know? Could she suspect? Ellis doubted it. For however comfortably ensconced Valerie seemed to be at Harry’s, Ellis figured Lily was in the dark. Ellis would not be the one to tell her, but he would also no longer allow her tattered marriage to keep him at arm’s length.

He might have gone straight to the farm that evening. He might not have denounced Harry for the philanderer he clearly was, but he would have declared his own heart. But as luck would have it, Ellis had to fly to London the next evening. He was scheduled to leave at seven.

If it hadn’t been absolutely crucial, nothing could have held him back, but he was scheduled to meet with Colin Dempsey-Brewster, who had just finished his memoirs as head of the OSS, in order to sign a six-figure contract. There was no earthly way to put off that and a series of other appointments overseas. But the minute he came back the next week, Ellis resolved, he would visit Lily. He set off for Britain full of hope for returning to a new life with the woman of his dreams.

Although Harry never saw Ellis that evening, the fact of his friend’s discovery weighed heavily on his mind.

It had been six months since Jeremy’s death, and Harry hadn’t seen Lily in all that time. If he didn’t act soon, their marriage was doomed. That much Harry knew.

The very day after Valerie had opened the door to Ellis, while Ellis himself was London-bound, Harry drove up the highway in his Ferrari. When he opened the door he discovered Lily in the foyer. She had heard his car drive up. She paled at the sight of him. Harry ran to her and held her in his arms.

“Lily, I’ve missed you,” he told her.

“Harry, I … I need more time.”

“It’s been six months already. Half a year!” Harry trembled with rage at the thought of being apart any longer. He realized then what a fool he’d been to spend any time with Valerie. How could he have settled for anything less than his beautiful, lovely wife?

“Oh, Harry.” Lily sighed.

“You still want to stay away, don’t you?” He paused. Lily said nothing. “You still blame me for Jeremy’s death. You’re trying to punish me. Haven’t we both already suffered enough?”

Lily fell to the floor and began to sob. “Please go away, Harry—please!”

Harry just stared at her. This was a rejection he was never going to forgive—or forget. “Okay, I’ll go. But Lily, if you don’t come back soon, there will be nothing left to come back to. I won’t wait around forever while you wallow in your own self-pity.”

After he had driven away, Lily’s tears gradually subsided. She was surprised at how numb she felt after the wrenching scene. At one time in her life, the mere hint of divorce would have horrified her, but today, with the prospect looming before her, she felt neither shock nor fear.

Since the loss of Jeremy, nothing seemed to matter to her. Harry little appreciated how much she needed the time to heal. If he couldn’t spare her several months out of a lifetime, then maybe she would be better off without him after all.

Harry drove back to Manhattan in a frenzy of rage and despair, his speedometer registering ninety. In truth, his words had only been a threat. Harry could hardly contemplate life without Lily, a divorce was the last thing on earth he would pursue. But he didn’t know how to get Lily back. Nothing seemed to move her, not even the week the children had spent at the farm at his urging. Not even his own pleadings would help. Now, having tried everything he could think of, he was at the end of his rope.

That night Harry sat by the window for a long while, staring out over the city, a drink in his hand. Finally he telephoned Valerie. Just from the way he said her name she knew that Lily had refused to return. Although Harry didn’t suspect it, Valerie had worked on him subtly to insinuate the idea of giving Lily an ultimatum. She had been waiting all afternoon to hear the results.

“Harry, dear,” she said, her voice oozing sympathy. “Tell me all about it.”

But Harry would let her go no further. “Valerie, I just wanted to let you know about tomorrow. I don’t want you to come in; I don’t think I’ll feel up to working.”

“Are you feeling all right?”

“No … not really. And I’m not in the mood to go ahead with
Genesis
. At least not right now.”

“How about if I come by? Maybe I can help somehow….”

“No!” Harry almost shouted the words. “Thank you, Valerie, but I think I need to be alone.”

“You know that I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

After hanging up the receiver, he stared down into his glass and swirled the melting ice. Then, slowly, he picked up the phone again and dialed Ellis’s number.

He knew his friend would be disapproving of his extramarital escapades. Ellis’s silence on the subject would remain a more stinging indictment than any words, however fierce, might convey. But he needed his friend’s calm counsel and wisdom. And he also longed to redeem himself in Ellis’s eyes.

The butler answered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kohle, Mr. Knox is out of town.”

“Where did he go, Edward? When will he be back?”

“I believe, sir, that he is in London until next week.”

Sighing heavily, Harry said, “Well … just tell him I called.” Harry went to the bar, got the crystal decanter, and brought it back to the coffee table; he settled back against the sofa cushions, poured the Scotch, and drank deeply.

T
HE MOMENT ELLIS ARRIVED
home and saw Harry’s message, he returned the call. The phone rang and rang. It seemed strange that no one would answer, if not Harry or Valerie, then one of the servants at least. Ellis tried later that evening but again got no reply. When he couldn’t get an answer the following day, he figured Harry had gone back to The Meadows. But the maid told him, “No, Mr. Knox. He’s not here. He sent us up last week and told us to do a little cleaning, and otherwise to consider it a little vacation…. No, as far as I know, he’s at the apartment….”

More than a little worried, Ellis put on his jacket and told his secretary, “I’m going out.”

The thought of finding Harry and Valerie in a love nest once again didn’t appeal to him. But the moment he walked into the foyer and saw the pile of papers and mail, he knew something was terribly wrong.

As he rang the bell imperatively he berated himself. He should have come over last night.

When no one answered after much ringing, he sought out the superintendent. “I need to get into the penthouse.” Ellis looked so frenzied, the superintendent didn’t even ask why. He just gave up the keys.

When Ellis strode into the room, he stopped short. A still figure lay on the sofa. For a brief, agonized moment, Ellis thought that Harry was dead. Rushing to his side, Ellis realized with a wave of relief that Harry was merely dead drunk. Still, finding him this way came as a shock. Harry had never been a heavy drinker. Ellis had rarely even seen him tipsy.

Without a word, he slung Harry over his shoulder, carried him into the bathroom, and propped him against the shower wall. He turned on the water: ice-cold and full force.

After a few insensible moments, Harry started to come to. Gasping for breath under the steady stream of water, Harry gasped, “What … what the hell is this? Ellis, get out of here—”

Ignoring him, Ellis ordered, “Get out of those clothes. Here’s a robe. I’m going to make you some coffee.”

As they sat at the kitchen table some twenty minutes later, Harry mumbled tiredly, “I’m glad to see you, Ellis.”

“Well, I’m not glad to see you. Not like this. You look like hell. Have you been holed up here drinking all week?”

Harry nodded.

“What prompted this binge? You’ve never been a drinker.”

Harry could barely speak. “I went up to see Lily the day after … the day after you dropped by. She refuses to come back to me.”

Tears streamed down Harry’s face, then he suddenly broke into sobs. “I love her so, I never wanted to hurt her. I know she blames me, but I didn’t mean to hurt Jeremy either. And I need her so, Ellis…. I’m just lost without her….” Raising his head, he cried, “I even threatened to divorce her, Ellis, but it didn’t seem to mean anything to her. Of course, I would never divorce Lily…. It was wrong of me to have an affair with Valerie, and I’m never going to go near her again. I just don’t know what to do, Ellis.”

Ellis listened in grim silence. If Harry were serious about breaking off with Valerie, if he really meant to patch it up with Lily, where would it leave him? All week in London, Ellis had been floating on cloud nine, rehearsing what he would say to Lily. “Lily, I’m not going to pretend with you. I love you and I have ever since the start … and I want you to be my wife.” God, how foolish it all seemed now.

If his heart wasn’t breaking, he might even laugh. But Ellis hardly had a chance to consider his own position. Harry, his best friend, sat before him in sorry shape. And for all of Lily’s aloofness, who could guess how she felt in her heart? Ellis knew what he’d have to do. This was the truest test of friendship he’d ever faced, and the truest test of his love for Lily.

“Harry,” he forced himself to say, “this thing will work itself out. Just knock off the booze, will you? It won’t help anything.”

But as soon as Ellis was gone, Harry thought to himself, That’s easy for you to say. It isn’t your wife who is leaving you…. He planned to drink himself into oblivion today, and tomorrow, and probably the day after that.

But if Harry was in a somber mood, Ellis was gloomier still as he drove up to see Lily at the farm the next day. He knew he couldn’t say the words he had planned. Just when he thought he’d have a chance to let Lily know how much he loved her, that chance was snatched away. But the instant he saw Lily, all his own anguish was lost in overwhelming concern for her. Since the last time he’d seen her, her physical state had visibly deteriorated.

“I just got back from London, Lily, and thought I wanted to spend a little time with you. How have you been?”

“Oh, I’m surviving.”

Ellis didn’t quite know how to proceed. For lack of anything better to say, he ventured, “Listen, why don’t we go out into the garden? It’s such a glorious day.” Ellis volunteered to make some tea for them. He told Lily to go on out.

They sipped their tea contentedly, though Ellis remained disturbed by the distant look in her eyes. Lily seemed as bereft as she had the day of Jeremy’s funeral. But Ellis sensed it was a new grief that troubled Lily: most likely Harry’s visit, and his threat of divorce. Ellis was sure she’d taken it to heart.

After they had exchanged small niceties for longer than he could bear, Ellis took the initiative, careful to be gentle at first.

“Lily, I know something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Wrong?” Lily sounded nearly hysterical. “What could be wrong, other than the fact that my son is dead? Oh, Ellis, every night I wish that I could go to sleep and never wake up! I just don’t want to live in a world without Jeremy.”

She began to shake and sob as he had never seen her in all the months since Jeremy’s death. Ellis held her close, the way he’d longed to, patting her back and saying softly, “Please don’t say that, Lily darling—don’t say that. You have so much to live for.”

Even after she regained control of herself, Ellis knew he couldn’t run the risk of leaving her alone that night. He cleared his throat and asked, “Lily, could I impose upon you just this once? It’s a long drive, and I don’t feel like going back; I’m tired.”