The Last Princess (3 page)

For the next year or two, Lily was wined and dined in almost every European capital. She had more proposals than she could count—but her answer was always no. She had yet to fall in love. Each time a man aroused her feelings, she pulled away. She found she could not give herself, emotionally or physically. Had her parents’ rejection permanently crippled her feelings? Having never been loved, was she incapable of loving? The thought frightened her. She wanted to be loved, to have a family, children of her own.

She was celebrating her twenty-first birthday at the Valois’ villa in Cannes. Corks were popping and the champagne flowed, but Lily felt somehow detached. Doubts about her ability to love and be loved continued to plague her as she wandered out onto the terrace, then into another pavilion.

The previous day she had received an unexpected letter—one from her parents, whom she hadn’t heard from in months. After all these years, at last they had written for her to come back.

“It is time for you to return home, Lily. You must settle down. We have forgiven you. Your place is here, not roaming around in a foreign country….”

Until she received the letter, Lily had thought of herself as being beyond shock, but her parents’ letter had stunned her. Why
did
they want her back? For what reason? Had she unwittingly done something to redeem herself? They had been perfectly content not to see her for long periods of time. Had they suddenly come to realize now that she had not been responsible for the death of Charles? In the next week, Lily kept asking herself over and over: Was it possible—she was almost afraid to think it—that they regretted their treatment of her?

Lily had changed from the stumbling, unsure creature who had been sent away to school. She was now full of grace and, though she little realized it, beauty. For as much as she thrived abroad, she was gradually becoming aware of a feeling that she didn’t belong there either. Europe had always somehow been a strange and foreign world—one that she never truly felt a part of. Now, with this missive from home calling her back, Lily found herself only too glad to go. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of longing to return to her home.

It made no sense, perhaps, to go back to a home where she had been so miserably unwanted and lonely, and yet, for reasons she could not articulate, Lily knew that was where she wanted to be.

She had always hungered for her parents to love and forgive her. Perhaps the time had come when it would happen—at last.

As she got up and walked back into the villa, she had made her decision—she would leave for home as soon as she could book passage.

Yet as she stood at the rail of the
Ile de France
and waved down to Colette standing below, the moment was bittersweet. Europe, after all, had been the only home she’d known for years and years. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked as she bid her dearest friend and the land of her youth adieu.

At home the reunion with her parents was strained and awkward. Years of brief visits had forged little common ground. After a couple of strained dinners with their daughter the elder Goodhues resumed their social life, leaving Lily to amuse herself as best she could at home. It seemed any hopes for a real relationship with her parents were not about to materialize.

Lily wandered through the house as though seeing it for the first time. Outside Charles’s old room she hesitated. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Her parents had kept everything exactly as it had been the day he died. They had even hung his small jodhpurs over the end of the bed.
Dear Charles,
she thought.
I loved you too much to ever have hurt you.
She walked back into the corridor and closed the door.

Two weeks later she received the first hint of what had prompted her father’s decision to bring her home. She was at a dinner party seated next to Roger Humphreys, the son of one of her father’s best friends. Glancing down the table she saw that she was finally earning her parents’ approval. Not because of her sweetness of character, but because she exuded glamour and beauty. Colette would have been proud. Lily was a beauty. The candlelight played upon the delicate bloom of her cheeks, and her faintly accented English enchanted not just Roger but the whole table. Suddenly it dawned on Lily that she had been brought home to make a good match and provide her father with an heir to the family fortune. Strangely enough, Lily found herself not resenting that. It seemed only fitting that she, as their daughter, should marry well.

After that first dinner her social success was assured. She was immediately in a whirl of activity.

Weekends were spent visiting neighbors in Southampton, playing tennis at Forest Hills, or sailing off Cape Cod. But wherever she went, Roger Humphreys seemed to be present. His all-American good looks were the antithesis of the fine, drawn Europeans who had courted her in France, his blunt manner the opposite of their suave flattery. She found him refreshing and was intrigued by his Boston accent, his Harvard degree, and his athletic prowess. He never tried to make love to her, but although she was surprised, she assumed that it was an American kind of restraint, a trait which she rather admired. So she was completely unprepared for Roger’s embrace one day when they were forced to seek shelter in the boathouse. “Lily,” he blurted out, “I’m in love with you. I want you to be my wife.”

She caught her breath. She had never thought of Roger in terms of romance. He was a pleasant companion, charming and good-looking to be sure, but she had felt no stirring of emotion when she was with him.

For a second she was shocked into silence. Then she stammered, “Roger, you’ve caught me by surprise. I’ll have to think about it.”

“I wish you would, Lily,” he said, squeezing her hand. “We would make such a good team.”

Team? My goodness, they could play touch football or row together to Hyannis Port. Her trepidation was almost replaced by laughter.

Of course, Lily had no way of knowing that her destiny had already been determined. Even while she was still in Paris, Charles Goodhue had invited Roger’s father, Jason, to lunch at the Harvard Club. Before Lily had even sailed for home, Charles and Jason had laid their plans for a merger between “the children.” Both fathers had agreed to press for an engagement—and then marriage—as soon as possible. A week later, while Lily was still on the Atlantic, Jason Humphreys invited his son to lunch with the same purpose in mind.

After ordering, Jason took a sip of his drink and began: “You know, Roger, you are twenty-six years old, and it’s time you settled down. I have a lovely young girl that I’d like you to meet.”

“Look, Father, I’m sure that she’s a lovely girl, but I’m not ready to get married.”

“Now Roger, I want you to listen. You know, I had lunch with Charles Goodhue last week, and he tells me that his daughter, Lily, is returning from Europe. From everything Charles tells me, she would make a perfect wife.”

“But Father …”

Jason held up his hand. “I’m not interested in your protests, Roger. Let’s face it. This girl is the Goodhues’ only child, and you know how much the Goodhue Rubber Company is worth. Someday she’ll inherit it all.”

“But Father, I haven’t even met her, and you’re planning a wedding already.”

“That’s correct, Roger. Every young woman your mother and I have suggested you have rejected. Now it’s time to grow up.”

“Why don’t you just let us meet and see if we even like one another?”

“I’m not going to let Lily Goodhue slip through your fingers. There are going to be a hundred men after her fortune the second she reaches New York. You’re our only son and you have an obligation to the family to marry well.”

Roger sat in silent rebellion. Why was he cursed with four sisters, so that the burden of carrying on the family name fell to him?
I’m not ready to be tied down
, he thought.
I’m only twenty-six!

But as he stared across the table at his father, he realized that he no longer had any choice. People were already beginning to wonder why he never had a steady girl. He knew he would have to marry soon, like it or not, and the unknown Lily certainly had the right qualifications. Later, after he met her, he decided he was probably a very lucky man. Lily was very beautiful, and he found himself actually liking her; she was unaffected and easygoing and when he was with her she was almost like one of the boys. But seeing how the other men hovered about her, he knew he couldn’t delay and he took advantage of the time alone in the boathouse to blurt out his proposal.

Lily went home perplexed. Although she was grateful that Roger had not demonstrated any great passion for her, she thought it odd that he did no more than peck her on the cheek. Even if it was America, she didn’t think men were all that different. Despite his clear blue eyes and thick sandy hair and strong, even features, she knew she was not in love with him, and she would have no trouble deciding about his proposal.

T
HE NEXT MORNING LILY
went down to breakfast with a light heart. At last she felt she was the child her parents wanted and she was expecting to entertain them with the scene in the boathouse. She gave them a laughing account, concluding: “Of course, I wouldn’t think of accepting him.”

Charles brought his spoon to his lips and took a bite of soft-boiled egg. Dabbing his lips with his napkin, he said, “And why not, my dear?”

She wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. “Did you ask me why not?”

Coldly he enunciated, “I did, indeed.”

In less than a second, Lily was again the terrified eleven-year-old Charles had sent away. Gone entirely was the confident woman.

“Because I don’t love him,” she stammered.

“Lily, darling,” said her mother warningly, “love comes with marriage and children.”

Lily stared blindly at her plate. How could she have been so foolish? It was obvious her parents didn’t care about her feelings. But even so, why were they rushing her? There were plenty of young men, and she was just twenty-one….

“Your mother is quite right, Lily,” said Charles. “There is plenty of time for you to learn to love after the wedding. The point is, he will be an excellent husband. His family is as wealthy as ours, and he would be a careful steward of the fortune you will inherit.”

In a voice that brooked no argument, Violet added, “Be sensible, Lily dear. You may be very pretty, but looks can fade fast. If you are to marry and have children you must do it soon, and men as eligible as Roger do not grow on trees.”

“But I’m not in love with him!” Lily cried. “Not the least bit!”

Violet was becoming exasperated. “You’re being ridiculous! Is there anyone else you fancy yourself in love with?”

“No, but perhaps that’s because Roger has been by my side ever since I’ve returned. We seem to have become an ‘item’ without my even realizing it.”

“Look, Lily,” said Violet. “Roger will be an ideal husband. You should take it as a compliment that he wishes to take you as his wife.”

Devastated, Lily tried to hold back her tears. Why Roger Humphreys? Of all the men she had met, why him? He was wealthy, but there were other wealthy men. Suddenly, a startling thought came to her: Her parents had planned this all along. That was why they had called her back from Europe, to arrange this marriage. It seemed incredible, but she couldn’t shake the suspicion.

Lily went through the day feeling once again a stranger in her own home. The thought of saying yes to Roger was unthinkable but as the days passed she knew she could not live with her parents’ cold disapproval either. Charles totally ignored her, while Violet bombarded her with ceaseless arguments.

It didn’t occur to Lily to leave home. No young woman from her social circle took her own apartment, and she wasn’t trained for a career. As the weeks since Roger’s proposal became a month, she began to feel she had no choice but to marry him. He was attractive and devoted and he would be a reliable husband and a good father. In the end she couldn’t bear her parents’ anger any longer. All the time she had been in Europe she had built defenses against this lack of affection. Now at home she found their cruelty had once again reduced her to a timid child. The more she thought about it, she decided that an early marriage was the only solution. It would give her a home of her own, and above all, children. So without really analyzing her feelings, she made her commitment.

Perhaps Violet was right, she would develop a deeper affection for Roger after they were married, and perhaps love was not the integral ingredient in marriage anyway. After all, Europeans usually married for practical reasons, and their marriages appeared eminently satisfactory. But the main reason behind her decision was the deep-seated feeling that because of what had happened to little Charles, she
owed
it to her parents. It was with these thoughts that Lily finally accepted Roger’s proposal and, ironically, from that moment on she became happy with her decision. She began to fall in love, if not with Roger, with the idea of getting married. She became so caught up in the excitement of buying her trousseau and planning the wedding that she ignored the reality of what she was doing until the day of her engagement party. It was then that she walked out into the garden to have a few moments to herself to consider what she had done. And it was there on the bench that Roger, having missed her on the dance floor, came to find her.

“Where have you been, Lily?” he asked as they walked back toward the house.

She answered laughingly. “Why? Did you miss me?”

He hesitated before saying, “Yes, yes, of course.”

She took his hand and turned to him, longing for him to crush her in his arms. Winding her arms around his neck, she said, “Roger, darling—kiss me.”

She tilted up her face, her eyes closed. His lips pressed hers briefly, almost casually, and she was conscious of a painful disappointment. It had seemed so important that she elicit a passionate response from him and she had been sure that this was the moment.

But Roger was already signaling a waiter for another glass of champagne. “You know, tomorrow I’m going to be away for the Cup races,” he said. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to come, if you like.”