The Last Princess

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The Last Princess Page 30

by Cynthia Freeman


  Yet her face was radiant as she waved to him over the crowd. “Ellis, how wonderful to see you!” Suddenly Ellis felt that she and Harry were really going to make it “happily ever after,” and he didn’t have the heart to wish them anything but good.

  If Harry was what Lily wanted, then he would just have to conquer his own longings, and try to be happy for her.

  Chapter 37

  AFTER ALL OF LILY’S work and worry, the night of nights had finally arrived. She felt as though destiny was taking her by the hand and leading her into a new dimension.

  As she sat at her dressing table the evening of the ball, clipping on her diamond earrings, Ellis stood by the windows in the drawing room, looking incredibly distinguished in his white tie and tails, gazing down at the glittering lights of Manhattan. He sipped his martini thoughtfully. He was the most successful man in his field, yet none of it meant anything to him compared to the woman he’d loved for what seemed a lifetime: Lily.

  “Ellis?”

  Whirling around, he saw her framed in the doorway. She was like a fairy-tale princess. Her rippling auburn hair was swept up in a French twist. Her skin had never looked so pure, her eyes so green and sparkling. She was dripping with diamonds. Her gown was mint-green and encrusted with shimmering crystals. The low-cut bodice showed off her figure, which was still gorgeous, even after four children and so many years.

  “My dear, you are absolutely ravishing.”

  “Am I really?” she asked, almost shyly.

  “Exquisite,” he answered. Then, fearing that his emotions were showing too plainly, he turned away and asked over his shoulder, “Martini? Or would you prefer a sherry?”

  The ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria was a wonderland. The ceiling had been tented in palest green and festooned with silvery streamers. Huge tubs of pink and white rhododendrons backed by giant ferns banked the walls. Extravagant bouquets of orchids, roses, and garlands of smilax gave the room the appearance of an enchanted garden.

  It was Lily’s night of triumph, and from the moment she entered the room on Ellis’s arm, she was engulfed by praise.

  “Lily, darling, this room is fabulous. It’s just divine, my dear…. How did you manage to snag Benny Goodman? … Just look at the crush tonight…. It’s by far the biggest success we’ve ever had…. A real tribute to you, Lily….”

  Laughingly she denied full credit, but inwardly she was filled with a mixture of elation and bewilderment at all the accolades. Until tonight, it had all been preparation and work. The scope of her accomplishment hadn’t really hit her. But now, from the way everyone was talking, she realized she had really done something to be proud of. They had raised over $500,000, John had told her this afternoon—the most ever.

  Many were curious about Harry. “Where is your famous husband? We just adore his books!” But tonight, she was the star—in her own right—and it felt good.

  Seeing her so surrounded, Ellis finally intervened. “I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but you can’t monopolize Lily any longer. In a few minutes she has to make a speech.”

  The music was in full swing. The ballroom hummed to the rhythms of Benny Goodman’s band as Ellis guided Lily through the crowd toward the stage. As they reached it, the music swung to a close. There was a brief lull. A quiver of nervousness ran through Lily as she looked at the podium. Sensing her qualms, Ellis turned to her and said quietly, “Listen to me, Lily. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just be yourself, and they’ll love you.” And then a drum roll shattered the lull as the spotlight sought them out.

  Ellis straightened his tie, stepped into the circle of light, and strode to the podium, as thunderous applause rose from the audience. He addressed them with an easy confidence. “Good evening. The annual Spring Ball is, as you know, one of our principal sources of funding. I am happy to announce that this year’s is the most successful ever. And the credit for that—and for this gala evening—must be given to this year’s ball committee chairman. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present: Lily Goodhue Kohle!”

  As she stepped forward into the spotlight, Ellis kissed her cheek and presented her with a great sheaf of pink roses which seemed to materialize out of thin air.

  As he stepped back and she turned to the microphone, the applause began to swell tumultuously. There were whistles and cheers, even foot stamping, as the crowd demonstrated their appreciation not only of the beauty of this titian-haired woman in the mint-green gown, but of the job she had done so spectacularly.

  “Thank you, all … thank you.” As the applause began to die down, Ellis held his breath, afraid for a moment that Lily would be overwhelmed. But as her voice came over the public address system, it was clear and composed. He let out a sigh of relief, smiling as he stood unobtrusively in the shadows.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you,” she began. “By being here tonight, you have made a contribution to a very important cause—one which is very close to my heart, as a mother. We must defeat this cruel disease, the crippler and killer of children. That triumph may become possible through the research made possible by your generosity…. Again, thank you all so very much.”

  As she finished, the applause rose even more thunderously than before. When the music finally started up again and Lily rejoined Ellis, her eyes were sparkling. She could have been the younger woman he had first fallen in love with.

  “I did it! It wasn’t hard at all,” she said enthusiastically. “Now, can we dance?” Without a word, he swept her away to the strains of “Stardust.”

  The evening was like an enchanted dream for Ellis. It was the wee hours of the morning before he finally collected his topcoat and Lily’s sable, then called for a taxi.

  Lily was elated. “Wasn’t it just marvelous? I can’t believe that everything turned out so well! When I think of how I worried and fretted …”

  On and on she went, not noticing how unusually silent Ellis had become.

  As the taxi swung in front of her building, she asked, “Will you come up for a nightcap?”

  “I don’t think so, Lily.”

  His tone was light, but for the first time she caught a note of constraint.

  “Oh. Well, I suppose it is a bit late. It’s just that I’ve had such a good time tonight. I guess I don’t want it to end.”

  He gazed down at her, trying to keep the longing from his eyes. It was so hard to leave her. Tonight, as he had circled the room with her in his arms, he had imagined that she was his wife after all—that at the end of the evening he would be able to claim a husband’s privilege of taking her home and making love to her all night.

  But now, standing outside the door, he reminded himself that Lily was Harry’s wife. It seemed that nothing would ever change that.

  He steeled himself and softly bade Lily good night. With a curt nod, he turned and strode off.

  A little of her elation seemed to vanish with him. In spite of the mildness of the spring night and the warmth of her sable, she suddenly shivered.

  The next morning Harry called, eager to hear the details of the ball. But first he was apologetic. “I wanted to send you flowers, Lily. I spent hours trying to get a connection to a New York florist, but our lines were down here.” Then he begged her to tell him how it had gone.

  After she had described it modestly, he exclaimed, “You’ll never be the one to tell me, Lily, but even long-distance I can tell this was a total triumph for you. It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you. I only wish I could have been there to share in it.”

  “Oh, I would have loved that. But darling, now that I’m free, I’m planning to take the next available plane. Drew is traveling and Randy and Melissa will be at camp next month so I feel totally carefree.”

  Harry hesitated. Deep down, he feared that Lily could never be happy in Israel in the wake of what had happened to her there. Could she ever feel comfortable again, with those memories haunting her? The midnight drive, the discovery of him with Valerie? No, she could never enter that house in S
afed again, never sleep in that ill-fated bed.

  As they spoke, Harry firmed his decision. “Lily, I have a surprise for you. I’m going to be able to wind the research up out here much more quickly than I had thought. I’ll be home in a few weeks. There’s really no need for you to come out.”

  Lily was relieved to hear it. She suspected that Harry had sensed her antipathy to the country in light of that fateful visit. And he was right, she dreaded the place, even more than he knew.

  But she was equally determined not to let her insecurities in any way inhibit Harry’s work on The Genesis. Neither Valerie’s ghost nor the specter of Israel would have her keep Harry from that most important project of his life.

  “Harry, please don’t compromise what you’re doing for my sake. The ball is over. There’s no reason in the world why I can’t leave tomorrow.”

  “No, Lily. I’ve already gotten exactly what I came for. Anything else would simply be frosting on the cake.”

  “Then why do I feel like you’re going out of your way for me?”

  “I’m not, darling. It’s just that now I realize there’s nothing more important to me than being with you. And I want to be with you there, in our own home.”

  “Oh God, Harry. I love you so much!”

  “The feeling’s mutual, darling. I love you more than I can say. I’ll call you every day to keep you posted on my plans.” He paused, then added casually, “Incidentally, I’ve hired a young Israeli secretary named Avi. He’ll be coming back with me.”

  And so the weeks passed. Finally, the long-awaited phone call came. “The research is finished, darling. I’m going to leave Rafi and Tony to wind up. I’ll be home day after tomorrow.”

  Lily was thrown into a frenzy of anticipation. She ordered all kinds of delicacies, filled the apartment with flowers, and bought herself a new suit to wear to the airport.

  Meanwhile, for Harry the leavetaking was poignant. As the plane soared up over the dry, golden land of his forebears, he felt a new spiritual oneness with his heritage. His roots would always be in this ancient land.

  But however much the weight of his responsibilities regarding his novel pressed on him, Harry’s preeminent concern was to make things right with Lily. Before he could do anything else, he had to reaffirm his commitment to her.

  Lily was waiting for him at the gate. As soon as he caught sight of her, he ran over and swept her into his arms, kissing her with an almost savage need.

  “Darling, darling, darling,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  Their reunion was sweet and passionate, no doubt inspired by the difficulties they had so recently overcome. Their marriage had been tested again and again, and they had come through. Now they were going to find a new peace together. Their love had survived trials that—even separately—would have torn most couples apart. They could take that bond for granted no more than they ever had; yet as they faced the future, both Harry and Lily felt their love had grown, tempered by trouble and time, and would keep them together for the rest of their years.

  Months passed before the final manuscript of The Genesis was finished, but for the first time, writing did not consume Harry’s life. He confined his work to certain hours; he delegated much to his trusty help.

  Avi, who had a degree in literature from Trinity College, Cambridge, turned out to be a treasure. The two researchers were a wealth of Judaica. Harry had the leisure to become the romantic figure Lily had fallen in love with. He was the Harry of their first days together: buying her flowers and candy and indulging her every whim.

  By the time Harry finally turned in his novel, he was relieved as never before. Now he would be free to concentrate on Lily; they were really going to live. He wanted to take her somewhere; they had never been free to do that since their marriage. He told Ellis, “I’ll call you once a week and you can talk to me about business, but that’s all. We’re going on a long-delayed honeymoon.”

  Without any real destination in mind, they drove up the coast to Woods Hole and took the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. There, Lily fell in love with an eighteenth-century house near Edgartown Harbor. Harry promptly took a three-month lease.

  This truly was the honeymoon they had never had. They would stay in bed until noon, then have a leisurely brunch. Afterward they would stroll hand in hand through the quaint village or out for miles along the shore.

  For the first time in many years, there were none of the demands of child-rearing or publishers’ deadlines to pull them apart. It was just the two of them—the first time they’d been alone together since the nine months before Jeremy’s birth. The only interruption was a brief ten days in Manhattan while Randy and Melissa were between camp and school.

  After their return to the island, they took one excursion to see the magnificent fall foliage in New England, another to visit Boston, but in the main they were content simply to rediscover each other in the pleasant confines of the Vineyard.

  But as the days grew cooler, the few remaining visitors left. Harry and Lily reluctantly turned over the key to the house and headed back to Manhattan.

  In no time at all the two found themselves setting off for The Meadows for the Christmas holidays. Drew had announced his intention of not coming home. Both Harry and Lily secretly heaved a guilty sigh of relief. It always seemed that he and Harry ended up fighting; they were pleased to be avoiding that this year.

  When he called up to say he’d like to go skiing at Vail instead, Lily felt he was doing it as much to stay away from Harry as he was for the skiing itself. And so there were two empty places at the Christmas table, but Randy and Melissa, Randolph and Ellis, helped make the place seem cozy even in the absence of their two boys.

  Harry and Lily behaved like newlyweds. It was impossible to miss the happy glow that emanated from them this holiday. The tender glances they exchanged, the way he touched her hand, the new harmony of minds and spirits—all were tokens of their rekindled flame.

  It was exquisite agony for Ellis. He could hardly bear the love pats and glances. It was all he could do to keep from leaving. She was never yours, Ellis, he told himself. She never will be. Accept it like a man. And so, he did his best to smile and play the role of old family friend, while inwardly he still longed for Lily.

  After the packages had been opened on Christmas Day, he cornered Harry and dragged him off to the study. Closing the door behind them, Ellis said without preamble, “Listen, Harry, it’s about time we had a little talk. You know, the publication date for The Genesis is only two weeks off.”

  “I know, I know.”

  He didn’t know why they couldn’t have held off until summer.

  “Well, what the hell do they want from me? Tell them to go sell the book.”

  “You know damned well what they want. Interviews, book signings, parties. And Renaud’s is talking about a big nationwide tour. They love the book, you know.”

  Harry had never appreciated this aspect of the publishing business. He didn’t see why the book couldn’t just sell itself. He’d put off making a firm tour commitment, and now he had plans of his own.

  “Well, the great American public is going to have to wait this time. I’m taking Lily to Bermuda.”

  Ellis sighed wearily. “When? And for how long?”

  “We’re leaving Monday and we’ll be gone for as long as I damned well please.”

  “Harry, you can’t! It’s the worst possible time—they’re going to be clamoring for you the second the book hits the shelves. And in fairness, you do owe it to Renaud’s. They’ve put a hell of a lot of money into prepublication advertising. You can’t just abandon them. They’re counting on you to live up to your end of the deal.”

  “Okay, Ellis, listen to me. For years, I’ve been living my life according to what you or Renaud’s or the public dictates, and it almost succeeded in ruining my marriage. Lily comes first from now on. It’s cold and gloomy here, and Bermuda is warm and beautiful. So we’re going, and to hell with everything else.”
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br />   “I wish you’d reconsider—put the trip off, for a few months at least.”

  “Sorry,” Harry returned flippantly. “You can forward my checks, care of the Bermuda Bay Hotel.”

  The following Monday he and Lily boarded their plane as planned.

  Bermuda was the island paradise of their dreams: a small coral jewel in the middle of the ocean, dusted with fine pink sand, fringed by swaying palms. More than ever, Lily and Harry felt like a pair of young lovers.

  Martha’s Vineyard had been charming, but in Bermuda something wild and primeval beckoned. They found themselves doing things they had never done before, even in their youth: dancing all night, sleeping all day, shedding their clothes in a secluded cove.

  One explosive night, with a full silver moon overhead, they made passionate love on the beach. The waves lapped gently at their feet as they became one.

  The next day, as they sat over a late-morning breakfast, Lily sipped her iced mimosa, then closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the magic of the night before. Opening them, she looked at Harry relaxing in the sun and smiled slightly. How she loved him. It seemed impossible that they could ever have been estranged.

  Then a white-jacketed native waiter interrupted with a telephone. “Mr. Kohle? Telephone call from New York.”

  Harry frowned. “I suppose it’s Ellis. I forgot to call him yesterday.”

  Sighing, he lifted the receiver. “Harry Kohle here … Hello … Yes? … Well … Okay, I’m sorry, I was busy … So sue me, I just plain forgot … What was that? … What?”

  Then he sat listening for a long time while Lily watched curiously.

  “Yes, of course,” Harry said finally. “But dammit, Ellis, can’t we put it off?”

  Lily could now hear Ellis’s voice nearly shouting from the other end of the line: “… Has the sun gone to your head or something? You simply can’t tell them to wait on your convenience; you have to let them know. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Harry finally snapped. “Now, Ellis, don’t push me on this. I’ll think about it and call you back…. Right … Good-bye.”

 

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