by Robyn Carr
“It’s Devon, Lilly. Andrew Devon.” He offered her his arm. “The square?”
She gladly took it, happy to stroll with him. “I always believed that when I finally knew who you were, I’d learn that you were some millionaire or royalty and would--I don’t know why I tell you every thought that drifts through my mind! I always mean to guard myself better. My grandmother says that I’m painfully blunt. Oh, you should know her! She is incredible.”
“Just so it never changes--your frankness. It’s like a breeze. You’ve never mentioned your grandmother before.”
“I’ve only just met her. She just returned to Philadelphia from London, England. London, England! Imagine, I didn’t even know I had a grandmother, and here she is, home, and she’s made everything so wonderful. There I go. I should start at the beginning, shouldn’t I? The summer started out so badly, I wondered if we’d get through it.”
She told him about the deaths of the Macintosh baby and Mrs. Fairchild. She explained how hard her mother had had to work through that, only to fall to consumption. Then of how the boardinghouse had emptied of boarders, of how there had been no customers for their baked goods or sewing, and how she had been down to the last ten-dollar note when a hired coach had come up the drive and out stepped the most beautiful, formidable, confident woman she’d ever met in her life.
“She’s been with us for a month, she and Beatrice, her tire woman. That’s what personal servants are called in England, and Bertie complains that she is tired indeed!” Lilly laughed. “She also has a hired man, Mr. Drake, who does business on her behalf, and she took over the boardinghouse like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Although she’s used to having servants do most of the work, she is not shy of work herself. She had Mama up and about in no time, moved out our last boarder, and has found a buyer for the boardinghouse! We’re moving into a hotel next week, all of us. A hotel!”
“This sounds like a guardian angel, not a grandmother,” he laughed. “I see she fixed you up with new clothes. Lovely.”
“She brought her desk all the way from England because I had written to her that I wanted to go into business. Imagine that! Now I have a desk, but I have no idea what business I’ll pursue.”
“Study, Lilly,” he said. “Keep up your studies. You’ll think of something special. You’ll be buying all your books now, I suppose. Are you terribly rich?”
“I’m not quite sure,” she thoughtfully replied. “Yes, I suppose we must be. Well, Grandmother is rich. She says that we needn’t be worried about money anymore. She is a lady…I mean, a lady. Her last husband was a lord. She says we should forget all that since we’re not going to England where it all matters. But when Bertie gets aggravated with her, she calls her Lady Nesbitt. The two of them can tangle like snakes over the slightest thing, both of them bossy as hens, but every night they play a card game, bet against each other, and--oh, I know you won’t believe this, but it’s true--Grandmother has her brandy, and Bertie takes a pipe!”
Andrew laughed at her. “You’re happier than I’ve ever seen you! You know, I worried about you--our last meeting…”
Lilly stopped walking and turned toward him. She was filled with hope and excitement. She grasped both his hands and looked longingly into his eyes. “Our last meeting was wonderful,” she said in a soft voice. “I’ll never forget it!”
His expression grew serious. “Lilly,” he began, frowning slightly. “Lilly, I took advantage of you, of your youth and inexperience--”
“Oh, Andrew, no, I--”
“Let me finish, Lilly. I should not have done what I did. I found you desirable and vulnerable. You’d become very special to me. I didn’t intend it.”
“Andrew, I want to be special to you. You’re special to me. Before…when I felt so far from your social status, when my family had so little, I knew it was foolish of me to be so taken with you. But now--”
“Lilly, nothing has changed. If it were possible for me to court you, I would, and believe me money would have nothing to do with it. It’s not possible, Lilly. We can’t even be friends now that there are romantic feelings between us.” She stared at him, speechless and confused. “I’m married, Lilly. I have a wife.”
First the shock of it drained the color from her cheeks. She was frozen, looking up into his bright green eyes in amazement. The pain in his expression finally nudged her into awareness, and she lowered her gaze and dropped his hands.
Andrew lifted the hand that hung at her side and put it in the crook of his arm, walking again. “I’m sorry, Lilly. I beg your forgiveness.”
“But why--?”
“I was not a gentleman. I have no excuse worthy of what I did. Kissing you that way was…impetuous and foolish of me. I let my strong feelings for you override my good sense. In fact, I’ve had a long struggle over what, exactly, I should tell you. I finally decided you deserve the truth. I felt desire for you that I had no right to feel. A gentleman would have walked away from such feelings without taking any liberties. And now being with you at all is dangerous.”
“But don’t you love your wife?” she asked.
“Lilly, my feelings for my wife are not important. Facts are facts. I was attracted to you. I didn’t intend that, but neither could I prevent it. Perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I can’t have you thinking I go around seducing young girls at the library. I don’t want you to think I’m a rover.”
“It just seems to me that if you really loved her, you wouldn’t be tempted by such feelings.”
“No,” he said, laughing humorlessly, “that wouldn’t make any difference. I’m still married. I’m not going to plead an unhappy marriage or any other excuse. That would only make the whole situation we face much worse, it would tempt us both to begin something with no happy endings.”
“You won’t be in the park anymore, will you?” she said, beginning to get the gist of this.
“Not deliberately. I was before, you know. Looking for you for God knows what reason. Intrigue at first, you’re fascinating. Brilliant, full of life. I lied to myself for a while, I believed I could talk with you, walk with you. Be your friend.”
“But Andrew…we can be friends…”
“Lilly, darling, we can’t. Don’t you understand the power of what you felt in the coupe? My God, Lilly! Did you think any man can pretend a kiss like that?” He looked at her. “You’re all that much more beautiful because you don’t know how beautiful, how desirable you are. I don’t trust myself with you.”
“Andrew, I want you to want me. I never thought--” She stopped abruptly. She didn’t think it possible that he could feel that way. She had hoped to win him somehow, now that her family was improved and not so common.
“To what end, Lilly? You have your whole life ahead of you; this will pass into a memory. Let go of it. Try to think of me along with other unmannerly rogues.”
“Andrew, I don’t want never to see you again,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “It’s all I’ve thought about for weeks--seeing you, riding in the coupe.”
“That will never happen again. Lilly, don’t cry. When you think about this, you’ll understand. It’s dangerous for you, for me. I came very close to keeping you in that coupe for hours…for days, had I been able to manage it. You deserve better than what you’d get from me.”
Tears slid down her cheeks and he gently wiped one away. “I wanted to stay,” she said, a little gasp coming from her.
“I know,” he said, turning her again to walk. “That’s why we’re saying good-bye today. Because I can’t trust myself, and I can’t trust you. You’re a passionate woman, Lilly.”
“Andrew, if I promise that I--”
“Promise to hold in all those feelings that are so natural for you, so beautiful and real? No. It would be an empty promise that you would break too soon…to your heartache. If I were not a married man, I would snatch you up and never let you go. What you have is wonderful, Lilly. Give it to a more deserving man.”
She hurt inside, more deeply than she imagined possible. “Don’t leave me yet,” she said, not looking at him. “Give me a little time to recover…I don’t know whether to hate you or beg you to meet me in the park and…”
“It would be better if you hated me. Believe me, there is nothing we can do but part company. Your tears will dry.”
“This whole summer has left me upside down. Do you know why I never asked your name? I was sure I would find out how rich and influential you are! I thought I’d lose the courage to talk to you!”
“I’m just a working man, Lilly.”
“But I’ve never even seen you wear the same suit of clothes twice!”
“Now, you must be mistaken. I haven’t any complaints about my status, but I don’t have that kind of wardrobe.”
“But you’re a patron of the library. You have your own coach. You have time to stroll around the square--”
“I have more time than a lot of working men do, that’s true, but my patronage at the library has to do with my own beginnings. I was born to a poor existence. I now work for a successful man and have studied on my own, the way you’re doing. I was determined to make a success of myself, and the books I could borrow made some of that possible. It was that, in fact, that awakened my curiosity in you. We have that in common, you and I. I endow the library, but more conservatively than you might think--it’s just a way of passing on good fortune.”
“And if your wife had seen us strolling through the square together?”
“Mrs. Devon isn’t seen loitering around the library or the square. Believe me.”
“Do you have children?”
“No, we haven’t been blessed. But we haven’t been married all that long. Perhaps one day--”
Lilly shook her head in confusion. “I’m a long, long way from understanding men! I never will!”
“Someday, Lilly. I keep telling you--you’re too beautiful and clever to be left alone for long. Some young fellow as clever as you will come along and--”
She put her hands over her ears. “Oh stop! I’ve heard enough of that kind of talk to last a lifetime! My grandmother says the women in my family are better off doing some sort of work because we’re born to have terrible luck with men!”
“All the women in your family must be cursed with the same great beauty.”
“Bertie says we’re alike in three things--stubbornness, contrariness, and bad luck with men. Grandmother has buried three husbands and she’s through with marrying. Mama won’t even discuss the possibility of marrying ever again, and Patricia…Patricia’s bad luck has only begun. She gets worse every day!”
“Patricia,” he said. “She’s the one determined to marry, though she dislikes all her beaux, children, and domestic work. Correct?”
“That isn’t half of it. She ran into trouble with a rich young man, although Mama tried to warn her. She suffered for weeks through the summer. All the while Mama was sick, she just felt sorry for herself. It was perfectly horrid. But do you think she’s given up all her notions? Now that she thinks she has money, Grandmother’s money, she’s talking about parties, balls, and the like. She is determined to live among the very people who abused her. As if what happened to her wasn’t awful enough.”
“What happened to her?” he asked.
“She used some excuse to sneak away with her rich young man, though Mama had strictly forbidden her. Mama said that it was the misfortune of many a poor girl to be taken in by rich young men who never intended to marry them, but Patricia was absolutely determined that her beauty would win her a wealthy husband. She was courting danger from the start. And it was a mighty dangerous end.”
“Your mother is right. I hope she wasn’t hurt.”
“She was hurt, as a matter of fact. He tricked her from the start, pretending to be in love with her. He was always tempting her with his riches, the wonderful events he would escort her to, even marriage! His final trick was to take her to his house when there was no one at home and--” She stopped explaining. She had already said far too much. She stole a glance at Andrew. By his eyes she could see that he didn’t need to be told any more.
“I hope she’s all right now,” he said sympathetically. “You see, don’t you, that completely unharnessed desire, whether for wealth or for love, can lead to despair? That’s why, Lilly, you must be wiser than your sister.”
“But Andrew, she never loved him or wanted him. It was his fancy life she wanted. It wasn’t desire that got her into trouble. It was greed.”
“It’s just a lot of wanting something you can’t have.”
“You’re wrong, Andrew,” she said. “I can have what I want. I’m not like Patricia--I’m not greedy and selfish. I’ve thought about it all summer and I know what I want--I want work and love. I don’t have to be married, I don’t have to--”
“You know better than that. There is no love that works when its foundation is dishonest. You’ll end up like your sister--angry and troubled and far from happy.”
“And plotting revenge? Do you think so? She wants to be rich as sin and get even with that awful Montaine wretch!”
The moment the name was out of her mouth Lilly stopped dead in her tracks. Her face colored.
“Montaine?” Andrew asked.
“Oh, promise me you won’t ever repeat what I’ve said! I was ordered to keep quiet; Mama says there’s no way a woman can accuse and keep her dignity--no way to make a man responsible for what he does to a woman. Oh, Andrew,” she said pleadingly, “I never meant to say the name!”
“It’s all right, Lilly,” he said, glancing away uncomfortably. “I won’t ever let on that you slipped. Don’t worry.”
“I suppose you’ve heard the name?”
“It is the name of Philadelphia. The young man has something of a bad reputation as it is. What did he do to your sister, Lilly?”
She shook her head. “I’ve said enough about her. She asked for it.”
He lifted her chin. “And now you are.” She began to shake her head, but he held her chin still between his finger and knuckle. “Say good-bye, Lilly.”
“No, Andrew. Not after--”
“Good-bye. I’m sorry I hurt you. I won’t hurt you any further, whether or not you like it.”
“No,” she said again, the tears beginning anew. But he turned away abruptly. His pace across the square was hurried, almost jaunty, and he did not look back. How many times, she wondered, had he said this kind of good-bye? How many women had felt this helplessly in love with him?
The tears dried after a while, but she stayed in the park the whole afternoon, thinking and seeking composure. The anger came, but slowly. Hate might actually be possible, if she thought about her dashed hopes long enough. Had that really been she? Proud, stubborn Lilly, begging a married man to pursue her despite the fact that he had obligations? She had lost her mind…over one passionate kiss. He should have known better; he had not forgotten he was married.
Perhaps it was his plan all along to make her his mistress. Perhaps a sudden attack of conscience stopped him. She had almost let it happen. She would almost have welcomed it, so wild had her daydreams been since that kiss.
Married. She thought about that all the way home. He was married--a status that did not change. But there was another thought that she could not suppress; he wanted her. Somehow, through all her fantasies about him, she had never dared hope that he felt as strongly as she. She wasn’t sure whether this knowledge made her feel better…or worse.
Lilly was unusually quiet during the dinner hour. The evening meal at the boardinghouse had become so interesting since her grandmother had arrived, the table so plentiful, the conversation so stimulating, that Lilly was usually the most animated. Tonight she was only half listening to the voices of her mother, grandmother, and sister. Her usually robust appetite was gone; she pushed her food around. She couldn’t forget him. Had she found him an available young bachelor, her happiness would be complete. Her greatest hope had died, and she w
as miserable.
“Only four more meals at this old table, Emily,” Amanda said. “Can you bear it?”
“The table isn’t so old, Mother. And I still think we should keep the house if possible. I’ve always loved it--it’s been my security.”
“If we keep the house, you’ll be tempted to come back here, and I want all this behind us! You worked so hard it nearly killed you!”
“Nonsense. It was consumption, not work.”
“I can’t wait to leave,” Patricia said. “But when are we going to move into our own house? How long must we live in a hotel? And when are we going to meet all your old friends, Grandmother? When do you plan to tell them we’re back?”
“We’re not back, dear,” Amanda said somewhat testily. “I’m back. You’ve been here all along.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” Patricia replied. “I’m just anxious to get back into society!”
“I’m at my wit’s end,” Emily said, lying down her fork beside her plate. “Mother, please try again. Explain this business of society to your granddaughter. I beg of you.”
“Your last voyage into society did not go smoothly, Patricia,” Amanda chastised. “At this point in your young life you should be pleading with me to hide you from the people who treated you so badly.”
“I want them all to see they haven’t cost me a thing!” Patricia exclaimed. “I’d love to have Mary Ellen Jasper groveling for a kind word and Dale Montaine begging for forgiveness!”
“It won’t go that way, Patricia,” Amanda said. “We’ve been over this a hundred rimes. You’re expecting all the wrong things. You’re being silly, and it will cost you far more than it already has. I honestly don’t know how you’ve come by your notions! I have a mind to set you adrift in your precious society and see if you don’t learn the merits of humility.”
“I’ve been humbled enough,” she said in a pouting voice. “Now I’d like to enjoy myself.”
“Surrounding yourself with fancy people and things is not nearly as enjoyable as you might think--”