The Last Princess (8 page)

“But I feel so guilty….”

“It’s your parents who should feel guilty, forcing you into a marriage to satisfy their own wishes. Besides, what are they going to do to you if you defy them? Beat you? This isn’t the Victorian age.”

Lily found it too painful to explain the relationship between herself and her parents. Instead she said, “I’m an only child. They’re very protective of me.”

“I’m not exactly penniless, Lily. My family owns the Kohle Mercantile Bank, and they will be happy to give me a well-paying job. Won’t your father accept that? Why does it have to be Roger Humphreys?”

Lily felt a sudden hope. If it was a good match her father was after, wouldn’t the Kohles’ wealth and prominence satisfy him as much as Roger’s family’s? And wouldn’t her love for Harry, her passion for him, soften her father’s judgment? Lily sighed. “Oh Harry, do you really think so?”

“Of course!”

“But what about Roger?”

“Is he really going to be heartbroken? Or is it just possible that he has been pushed into this engagement as much as you have? I’ll tell you something, if I were in love with a woman like you, I’d never leave you alone the way Roger has. Good God, he’s off in Hyannis Port every weekend.”

“Oh Harry, you make it sound so simple.”

“It is, Lily—if you have the courage.”

She was silent for a long moment. “Do you really think it could work?”

“I know it can,” he said. Taking her into his arms again, he made her believe that it could, and also made her stop thinking about the ordeal that lay ahead. Soon she had no thought for anything but the unbelievable joy she felt.

The next morning Harry begged to go with her to face her parents, but she refused, terrified to let him witness the scene she expected.

Lily had had a sample of her father’s cruelty the morning she told them of Roger’s offer of marriage. She had been as frightened of him then as she had been as a child. The thought of Harry seeing how little her parents loved her was too humiliating to bear. Remembering the terrible stigma of being unwanted, she could never reveal the dreadful events of her childhood, even to Harry.

“Please let me go alone,” she said.

“All right. But if you need me, I’ll come immediately.”

I
T WAS EARLY EVENING
when Lily arrived home, grateful that her parents would not return until the next day. She would at least be alone with Roger when she told him. She picked up the phone, half terrified and half relieved when he answered.

“Roger, I’m so glad you’re back. Do you think you could come over for tonight? I know it’s last minute, but …” Her voice trailed off.

It was odd to be wondering if her fiancé wanted to see her, but from the beginning their courtship had been odd….

“I’d like that, Lily, I really would. In fact, I’ve got to say that I’ve missed you a whole lot. I want to tell you about the race.”

“At seven, then.”

Looking at herself in the mirror, Lily was shocked at her pallor. Even the extra rouge didn’t help. Her face was paler still when Roger took her father’s place in the dining room an hour later, and she hardly understood a word he was saying as he rambled on about reefing and heeling and jibbing. All she heard was the echo of Harry’s voice saying, “I love you, darling, more than words can say.”

Suddenly Roger touched her arm and asked, “How do you feel about
that?”

“Pardon me?” she mumbled. “I’m sorry, I—”

“I know you’re not keen on boating, but Sunday is the last day of the season. I haven’t pressed you before, but you ought to give it a chance. Married to me, you’re going to have to learn to crew.”

Lily’s courage almost faltered. How could she do this? Roger really sounded as though he’d missed her.
Fidelity, honor, loyalty
, those words were difficult to ignore. For the first time in forty-eight hours, she was ashamed of what she was about to do.

“How about it, Lily?” Roger was saying. “Are you going to be my skipper?”

Toying with the small spoon, she said gently, “I don’t think I can.”

“You mean you don’t want to?”

“No, Roger. I mean, I really cannot.”

Something in her tone startled him. “I don’t quite understand.”

Lily took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Roger, but the truth is that I have fallen deeply in love with someone else.”

Without a word, he got up and walked to the French doors.

Lily sat devastated. Nothing could have been worse than his silence. It would have been easier if he had screamed at her. What he was feeling she could only guess, but he must have cared more than she had realized.

The truth, if Lily had known it, was very different. The only emotion Roger experienced was relief. He had never loved Lily more than the moment she gave him back his freedom.

The past five years had been sheer torment, having to keep his love affair with Christopher closeted. The only thing that had brought him to resign himself to the marriage was that Lily would have provided a cover. It would have been in no way remarkable for Chris to have visited as a houseguest or even to become a member of their household.

And he liked Lily very much as a person. If he had to marry, he was happy that it was she.

But now that she had released him, he knew he was going to stop living the lie. He would take Chris to Paris, where such liaisons were accepted. He had tried one last time to please his parents. He would not consider marriage again.

Lily sat trembling, waiting for him to say something—but when he finally turned back to her, the look on his face was one of infinite kindness.

Taking her hand, he said, “You are the finest woman I have ever known, Lily. I’m not going to stand in your way. I only hope this other man deserves you.”

When the tears subsided, she said, “I can’t thank you enough for your understanding. I hope that you will meet someone you’ll really be happy with.”

Smiling, he said, “I hope so too.”

That night Lily slept peacefully, but she knew that her ordeal was only beginning.

The next day she looked out of her window and watched her parents’ trunks being brought into the house. Roger had been so reasonable, she hoped her father might be the same. She decided to wait until after lunch to confront him.

It was almost three o’clock when she knocked on his door. Praying her courage wouldn’t fail her, she said, “Welcome back, Father.”

“Thank you. How have you been?”

“Fine. We’ve had lovely weather the past few weeks.” She hesitated. “Father, I have something very important to talk to you about.”

He recognized the apprehensive expression on Lily’s face. She’d had that look ever since babyhood. He despised people who always knuckled under to him and now he said coldly, “What is it, Lily?”

“I … wonder if I might have a brandy, Father.”

“Help yourself, Lily. This is your home.”

After she had taken a sip, she felt slightly better.

She said haltingly, “Father, I … don’t quite know how to begin.”

Impatiently he said, “Lily, I’ve just gotten back from a long trip, and I’m tired. Please just say what you have to say.”

She swallowed the rest of the brandy, took a deep breath, and blurted, “I don’t want to marry Roger.”

“Really? When did you come to that conclusion?”

“The truth is, Father, I didn’t from the beginning.”

He bent over Lily menacingly and said, “You’ve made a commitment, young lady, and by God, you’re going to stick to it.”

“But I didn’t make the commitment, Father! You and Mother put a great deal of pressure on me to accept him.”

“In any event, you’re going to marry Roger.”

“No! I’m not in love with him, and he’s not in love with me. He never was.”

“Love? I suggest, Lily, that you forget all about this foolishness. I don’t want you upsetting your mother. I wouldn’t worry so much about being in love with Roger, as about making him a suitable wife.”

“I’ve already told Roger, Father, and he’s accepted it.”

“You’ve what?” Charles Goodhue stared incredulously at his daughter. “What’s brought this on? There’s another man involved, isn’t there?”

“You’re right, Father,” Lily said, trembling. “I’m in love with someone else. Is that a sin?”

He had known there was another man involved, otherwise she never would have found the courage to defy him.

“How did you meet him? What’s his name?” he barked angrily.

“He is a friend of Randolph’s; his name is Harry Kohle.”

Charles Goodhue was, for once in his life, speechless. His face reddened and the cords in his neck stood out like twisted ropes.

“I will see you dead, Lily, before I will allow you to marry a Jew.”

Lily was terrified. With all his faults she had never realized her father was anti-Semitic.

With blind rage, Charles shouted, “Do you realize your children will never be accepted?”

“By whom?”

“By society. By me! Your sons were supposed to carry on the Goodhue banner, but I will never allow one of them behind my desk. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes. That’s why you wanted me home, isn’t it? To make sure you had the proper grandson to carry on your name. You picked Roger to merge the two fortunes. You weren’t thinking about me—just money.”

“Why do you think Harry Kohle wants to marry you?” he spat.

“Because he loves me—he doesn’t need my money!”

Contemptuously he said, “You’re a fool. He wants you for two reasons only: your inheritance and your social standing. But let me tell you, if you marry this Jew, you are no longer my daughter and you’ll never have a penny of my money!”

Perhaps it was the thought of Harry’s love, or maybe it was her father’s blunt avowal he didn’t love her, but Lily no longer felt afraid. She understood that Charles’s threat was real; but what difference would it make? She had never been his daughter in the real sense of the word. And before leaving his house for the last time she wanted him to know how terribly he had abused her.

“Father, you’ve taken your frustrations out on me since the day I was born. First you hated me because I was a girl, and then because I lived and little Charles died. You know as well as I that his death was just a terrible accident, but for years you made me believe I killed him. Then when you called me home I was foolish enough to think that you had forgiven me. I even deluded myself into believing that you loved me. But I was just a tool to augment your wealth and carry on the family name. You’re cruel, Father, and I no longer feel I owe you anything. I’m going to marry Harry Kohle with or without your blessing. You can do whatever you like with your money.”

With that, she turned and went up to her room, where the tears she had been holding back finally burst forth uncontrollably. It was almost dark before she felt sufficiently composed to call Harry. All she told him was that she’d had an unpleasant scene with her father and that she was leaving.

“Oh, Lily darling, I feel terrible that I’ve been the cause of such trouble.”

“Don’t say that, Harry!” she cried. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me!”

“When can I pick you up, darling?”

“Can you be here by seven-thirty?”

Lily packed what she could in one large suitcase; the rest she would have sent. Then she walked down the hall to say good-bye to her mother.

Violet, who had become hysterical when Charles told her the news, was resting now against her satin and lace pillows, still occasionally touching her eyes with her handkerchief.

“Mother,” Lily started to say.

But Violet interrupted. “I’ll never forgive you for what you have done, Lily. You’ve brought us nothing but unhappiness from the day you were born—and now this. No, I will never forgive you.”

Covering her face, she wept. “What can I say? What will I tell everyone?”

“Tell them, Mother, that Lily is going to marry the man she loves. I am sorry that I have brought you such heartache—but I won’t any longer. I will be leaving in just a few minutes.”

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You’re ruthless,” Violet wailed.

Her hand poised over the doorknob, Lily turned and looked back at her mother. In that moment she felt terribly sorry for her. She was so superficial, so childish. Neither she nor Charles had ever once considered that Lily had a right to some happiness. If there was a debt to be paid, it was theirs. She had already spent years trying to expiate whatever sins she might have committed.

At one time she would have given anything to win their love. But now she had found love in Harry, and it had given her a coat of armor to protect her against the rest of the world.

Just now Lily felt wise and calm and charitable.

“Mother, I hope in time you will be able to forgive and forget. I do love you, and I am sorry that I am causing you pain.”

Letting herself out of the room, Lily closed the door softly behind her and went downstairs.

It was precisely seven-thirty when Harry drove through the wrought-iron gates and stopped in front of the house. Before he could ring, Lily flung open the door and ran into his arms.

“I am so grateful that you’re here.”

“I am too,” he said, holding her tightly. Then he put her suitcase into the trunk, helped her into the car, and drove away.

Lily never once looked back.

T
HEY SPENT THE NIGHT
in each other’s arms. Harry kept consoling her about her parents’ reaction and telling her a little about his own family.

“It won’t be so bad, darling, you’ll see,” Harry assured her. “They’ll love you.”

In truth, he was not nearly so sure as he sounded. Lily was Christian and the Kohles married only Jews.

His mother had had endless discussions with her cousins and other relations about who would be the perfect wife for Theodore, Anton, and Sidney, and his brothers had dutifully acquiesced in her choices. How would his parents react tomorrow, when he presented a woman not only not of their choosing but also not of their faith?

On the plus side, he would be giving up his dreams of writing and going into the bank, which should make his father happy. Then there was Lily herself. She was so lovely, so charming, and she was a Goodhue—not that he was in the slightest awe of her family, but it was a name to be reckoned with.