The Last Princess

by Cynthia Freeman

  Chapter 48

  THE NEXT MORNING ELLIS flew home. Lily no longer needed him. And with the way he was feeling, it would not be good for either of them if he stayed. Meanwhile, through one of Lily’s French cousins, Harry got the address of a swarthy little man who knew the ins and outs of document forgery. By the end of the week, Harry was in possession of a false birth certificate and American passport for a Miss Susan Kelly of Baltimore. He hired a French girl to fly the baby to the States; there could be no connection between the infant and Harry and Lily Kohle.

  Upon the baby’s arrival in America, the bogus documents would be burned and the mysterious Susan Kelly would disappear forever.

  After all was ready, Harry went back to New York. He had never told Lily about his hospitalization, but it was obvious to her that his lungs were not what they once were. When it became clear he wasn’t getting better, Lily grew concerned.

  “Go see a doctor, Harry. See if he can’t give you something to get rid of that terrible cough.”

  Making light of it, he shrugged. “I may drop in on Doc Simon once we get back. But I know what he’ll say. ‘Cut down on the smoking.’”

  “It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” was her reply.

  After his departure, Lily moved from the George V to a charming, light-filled pension just off the Avenue Victor Hugo. It was walking distance from the hospital. She was able to visit Melissa several times a day.

  Conversations with her daughter were strained. They avoided talking about the baby and about Jean-Paul. Duval had apparently come to see Melissa and had then gone off to ski again. Melissa said little about his visit.

  Lily was glad that her path had not crossed his; she knew that if she had seen him she would not have been able to control herself.

  The baby, by contrast, was pure joy, fostering happy daydreams of the time when she would take her home.

  In the long hours away from the hospital, she began to rediscover the Paris of her youth. Her old friend Colette came in from Lyon, where she lived with her banker husband and three teenaged children. Colette was as lighthearted and entertaining as ever, and as they lunched and shopped, chattering away about old times, Lily felt the warmth of their old friendship even more than she had in the past.

  Several days later, she regretfully bid Colette adieu at the Gare de Lyon. Lily realized how much she had missed having a close girlfriend over the years. Much as she knew Colette had her family to go back to, she wished she could return with her to the States, if only for a time. Then again, Lily reflected, she herself had a family to think of now, too.

  Finally the long-awaited day came. The baby was released from the incubator and Lily held her in her arms for the first time. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but they were tears of joy. Never had she felt anything quite like this, even for her own children.

  “Cadeau,” she whispered softly. “I’m going to name you Cadeau. In French, that means ‘gift’—and that’s what you are—my gift from God.”

  It was another two weeks until tiny Cadeau was released from the hospital. The plan went into action then.

  They had anticipated no problems at Orly, as the nursemaid boarded holding the baby, but throughout the long flight over the Atlantic, Lily couldn’t help but worry. What would happen if the baby’s passport were questioned? Suddenly, it seemed so many things could go wrong.

  But the first thing she saw as she stepped off the plane, with Françoise and Cadeau three or four people behind her, was the two men in her life, Harry and Ellis, standing together and waving. Her spine stiffened with resolve. She would carry this off—she would!

  At Customs, Lily answered their question, “Do you have anything to declare?” with outward calm, though she felt dangerously close to hysteria. If only they knew!

  She turned and saw Françoise surrendering her passport and the baby’s for inspection. Her heart beat faster as she looked on. But the moment passed with incredible swiftness as she saw the official glance cursorily at the documents, stamp them, and hand them back.

  When Françoise joined them in the waiting car, Lily reached out for the baby. “Cadeau, darling Cadeau,” she cried breathlessly as she cradled the baby in her arms. “I love you, my sweet baby.”

  Harry reached over and stroked the baby’s downy head with gentle fingers. He had never felt such an overwhelming sense of joy. He, Lily, the baby … on their way to The Meadows to start a new life together. No scene could have held greater joy for him than this.

  Both Kohles smiled involuntarily as Cadeau opened her rosebud mouth in a tiny yawn.

  At the wheel, Ellis was aware of a feeling of bitter irony. From the disaster of Cadeau’s unwanted birth, all, it seemed, had achieved their heart’s desire—all except him.

  Chapter 49

  NOT A NEWSPAPER IN the country, from Boston to San Francisco, failed to print the item Ellis had circulated to the effect that a reconciliation had occurred between Mr. and Mrs. Harry Kohle. It was rumored that they were enjoying a second honeymoon at their country estate, The Meadows.

  But the next news to hit the columns was even more of a sensation: Mrs. Harry Kohle was expecting a baby. Although she was middle-aged, with a nearly grown-up daughter, such miracles had been known to happen before. They had given the servants, except for Mary and Joe, the month off and had arranged for them to leave before Lily’s arrival with the baby. They simply told their friends Lily was confined to bed rest. It seemed their secret would be safe.

  Lily hadn’t known quite what to expect from Harry—how they would deal with each other after the long separation—but they settled into their lives at The Meadows with surprisingly little difficulty. It was almost as if they had just been apart for the weekend and now were back together again, so settled was the routine they soon found themselves in.

  The only difference was that they had separate bedrooms now. And also this: Despite the long years together, and despite the fact they now shared the same roof over their heads, the two had little emotional involvement. It seemed as if they were polite acquaintances. And Lily was determined to keep it that way.

  Harry was not writing. He’d finished The Sod six months before, but had not started another project since. His lung problems seemed to improve along with the weather, but he seemed content to do nothing except sit in the warm sunshine playing with Cadeau as Lily spaded in the garden.

  From time to time, she would look over and smile. It was wonderful to see him holding the baby, shaking the silver rattle at her or talking to her in his own bumbling version of baby talk.

  Much as the scene moved her, she couldn’t help thinking, Why couldn’t he have been like this for our own children? They had needed his love and attention every bit as much as Cadeau. If only he’d taken a more active role in fathering them. But Harry simply hadn’t known how to be close to them. When his own children were little, they had simply gotten on his nerves.

  Now, Harry was a changed man. This was the Harry she had always wanted—a companion and friend, a devoted father. Ruefully, Lily thought, if he had always been like this, there never would have been the resentment, the quarrels, the estrangement.

  But if he had subjugated himself to her needs so totally, would he have become a world-famous writer? Or would he still be struggling along in poverty and obscurity? Or worse yet, cursing her for limiting his potential?

  Strangely, she could view the question dispassionately. For now she still felt detached from matters which should have troubled her deeply. The hard shell she had built around her heart in the wake of the separation still remained. The intense love she had felt for him throughout their long marriage seemed to have gone forever, and Lily neither mourned it nor wished for its return. Her only wish was for these peaceful days to continue. Then she would be content.

  As the time came closer for Cadeau’s “birth” to be announced, Lily began to breathe more easily. The deception that they were perpetrating on the world still troubled her a little. It would be easier for her t
o accept once she could drop the charade of being pregnant. The “birth” announcement would bring relief.

  Then, the bombshell broke: Edward R. Murrow, host of a famous television show, one of the most popular shows in the country, had called Ellis. He wanted to come to The Meadows to interview the Kohles as they awaited the birth of their fifth child.

  “No, Harry! Absolutely not!” Lily was adamant. “I’m not going on camera in a live interview with a pillow tied around my middle!”

  “Lily, don’t you see?” Harry expostulated. “It’s our golden opportunity! Who will question the date of Cadeau’s birth when they have seen you, obviously pregnant, on TV?”

  “Oh, Harry!” she cried helplessly. “How far can this deception go?”

  “It’s for Cadeau’s sake, Lily. Isn’t that worth a little deception?”

  Lily had to give in. “Of course. When you put it like that, anything is worth it.”

  Still, she was nervous beyond words the day the crews arrived and began bustling around the vast drawing room, setting up their cameras and dollies. Meanwhile, Edward R. Murrow and Harry sat together chatting, entirely at ease as they each lit one cigarette after another.

  And then, suddenly, they were in position. The director said, “Lights—camera—action!” and the cameras were rolling as Murrow began. “I am here at the beautiful estate of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Kohle. He is, as you all know, the world-famous Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Wars of Archie Sanger, The Genesis, and the soon-to-be-published The Sod. Now I take you to their drawing room. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Kohle!”

  Heart pounding, Lily tried to move her lips to respond, “Hello, Mr. Murrow,” but no sound came forth.

  As Harry answered for them, “Hello, Edward,” he glanced at Lily and almost chuckled. She sat with her hands primly folded underneath her false front, for fear that the pillow would move.

  “How do you feel, Mrs. Kohle?” asked Murrow.

  Lily was caught off guard. She had thought that the first questions would be directed to Harry. As she struggled for the right words, she saw the red eye on the camera blinking. Her mind went totally blank.

  “How do you feel, darling?” Harry repeated, hoping she would recover.

  Haltingly, Lily managed to reply, “Fine …”

  “Was it a surprise when you discovered that you were expecting your fifth child?” continued Murrow.

  “Oh,” she said, “no. I mean, it was a surprise, but a wonderful one.” Lily sat rigid, eyes staring straight ahead while Harry carried the ball, laughing and chatting amiably.

  Yes, they were thrilled—overjoyed…. Of course they had told the other children…. Did they want a boy or girl? … Does it matter to you, darling? … No, they just wanted a healthy baby….

  Lily hadn’t realized how overwhelming and terrifying it would be to lie before the whole country. Françoise had been instructed to take Cadeau out in the carriage, but Lily still kept imagining she heard a baby’s cry.

  At long last the ordeal was over. As the grips efficiently packed up their gear and carried it out to the truck, Murrow said, “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Kohle. You were superb—and congratulations on the new addition to your family.”

  This had been the worst strain Lily had ever known—but suddenly, unexpectedly, as she closed the door after Murrow and his crew, she doubled over in laughter. How ridiculous she must have looked, so stiff, unable to speak.

  Harry laughed too. “You were wonderful, darling. The picture of the perfect pregnant woman. But you had better not take the pillow out yet, just in case one of them has forgotten something and comes back.”

  “If they do, we won’t let them in,” she called gaily, running down the hall and pulling the pillow out from under her dress at the same time. An hour later, Françoise was back with the peacefully happy baby.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Lily said, going to pick her up.

  Cadeau yawned. How fragile she looked! Lily lifted her and cradled her in her arms.

  “Oh, the lies I tell for you, Cadeau,” she said, stroking the soft little head. “But you’re worth it.” Behind her, Harry watched the scene. His love for her overwhelmed him. Not even in the beginning, with their passionate lovemaking, had he been so wholly and completely in love with her.

  In the past year he had come to know that his life had no meaning without Lily. Like so many men, he hadn’t realized how much his wife meant to him until he lost her—until after he had strayed into the beds of other women for motives which, in retrospect, seemed ludicrously thin.

  For months now, he had barely been able to function. He had written The Sod, but he knew that it was a minor work, not on the scale of The Genesis, or even The Mountains Roared. For in reality, Lily had always been his inspiration. She had been the most sustaining force behind him. He was unable even to think of other women now; Lily was all he wanted, now and forever.

  This coming together over Cadeau had presented him with a ray of hope, but as the weeks and months had passed, he had almost despaired. Lily was pleasant, but distant. It seemed there was an impassable barrier between them. Sometimes, broodingly, he would wonder, Was it even a question of forgiveness? Once, he had mistakenly thought that his love for her had simply burned out. Could it be now that the tables were turned, that her feeling for him had evaporated?

  Harry knew he had to face facts. Lily had been anything but eager for this reconciliation. Cadeau’s adoption was the only thing that prompted it. Unlike Harry, Lily had no ulterior motive to promote. Looking at her as she bent over the crib, laying the baby down, her face aglow with a gentle radiance, Harry thought that she looked like an angel. And his heart overcame his better judgment. As she turned toward him, he reached out and took her in his arms. Tears glistening in his eyes, he whispered, “Lily, don’t you think that maybe we could start over again? I love you so much….”

  Lily felt a sudden stirring she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. There was hope and joy and the thrill of Harry’s nearness. But almost as suddenly, there was the old mistrust and doubt. She wanted so much to believe, after all the long, lonely nights, lying in her bed alone. It was like a glimpse of heaven to have Harry’s arms around her again, whispering words of love. Deep down, she always knew that she would love him until death did them part.

  Yet she didn’t want to let herself love him again. It would give him the power to hurt her once more, and she couldn’t bear to be betrayed as she had been before. It seemed as if Harry had changed—she wanted to believe it—but it had seemed to her he had reformed one or two times before. Was she trying to make herself believe in him again simply because she so much wanted to believe? On the other hand, did she want to wind up a lonely old woman, all because of pride and apprehension?

  Finally Harry broke the silence. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

  “I want to trust you,” she whispered back. “But I just can’t….”

  Just then, Cadeau stirred and Harry gently drew Lily out of the room and down the hall to her own bedroom, closing the door behind them.

  Taking her into his arms once again, he said, “When I said ‘I love you’ in the past, I never thought enough about what it entailed. Not just romance and passion, but living for each other, intertwining our lives and becoming one. That is what I realized when I lost you—that in my self-centeredness I had missed out on a very wonderful part of life, the most important part.” Harry swallowed hard. “If you’ll give me just one chance, I swear to you—I swear—that I will devote the rest of my life to you and Cadeau. I will be entirely faithful to you—always. For whatever I’m worth, will you accept me?”

  Lily now had tears in her eyes, too. She had never heard such heartfelt sincerity in a human voice in her life. There was nothing left to say except, softly, “Yes, Harry.”

  Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Oh God,” he murmured. “Oh God, Lily, I love you so.”

  Their lips still pressed together, he fumbled at the buttons of her d
ress. Drawing her down onto the bed, he felt her satiny flesh against him. How he’d longed for this. He kissed her like a man who had been starved for affection for a long time. Her lips, her breasts, her arms around him, he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her, her lovely fragrance….

  Lily was intensely aroused by Harry’s touch, his nearness after all the lonely months. She wanted him as never before. Then, as he entered her, she moaned softly. Oh God …

  In the final moment before the culmination, he whispered brokenly, “Don’t ever leave me. You belong here, with me.”

  Lying in his arms afterward, spent and exhilarated at the same time, she was content not to talk. Suddenly, it was as though they had no past, only a future … and Lily longed to reach out to it.

  Chapter 50

  IN THE AFTERMATH OF the Murrow show, the cards and letters and gifts had poured in for the coming baby. Exactly five months from the date of the Murrow show, the Kohles heralded the birth of a darling baby girl: Cadeau Kohle. In reality, Cadeau was now six months old, but she had been two months premature. She was still very small. Within a few weeks, when they began to receive callers, it was impossible to tell that she had not been a newborn. She was simply a baby, an unusually pretty, alert baby, with a little fuzz of silky red hair and perfect, rosy little lips.

  “Isn’t she just like a little rosebud!” cooed their guests, as Harry and Lily, looking on, nearly burst with pride.

  The weather was now growing cool and so, as soon as Lily was “recovered” from the rigors of her confinement, they closed The Meadows for the season and went back to Manhattan.

  The tiny “gift” was put down in a Directoire cradle padded in white satin and tufted with tiny pink roses. A graceful swan held aloft a drift of sheer white organdy tied with an enormous pink bow, from which cascaded slender ribbons.

  On the day of Cadeau’s naming ceremony, Lily was filled with excitement as she dressed. Before, the ceremonies for the children had somehow been so forlorn, with Harry still a pariah from his family; the elder Kohles attended but seemed distant and grim. The wound of her parents’ loss had still been new then, and despite their neglect she had felt intense sadness that they were not there to see their grandchildren.