by Robyn Carr
When Fletcher came to the apartments as a dinner guest, she found him as companionable as ever before. When he asked why she had not called on him, she said, “My expanding world has made even the cloaks a poor attempt at discretion.”
“Well, Lilly,” he said very kindly, “I think you look even more beautiful. Michael asked about your health.”
“Thank him,” she said. “And do give him my regards.”
Understanding, she decided, was not the same as accepting. There were more rules to be broken than Lilly had ever considered. Someday, she thought, perhaps the world will become more kind to people like us.
As the weather grew colder and Lilly grew larger, she finished reading The Found Fortune. She tried to imagine another twelve months and twelve segments of Chloe Tillets’s unrequited passion for the man of her dreams. She dropped the last installment into what was left of her lap and thought about those letters she had read. She wondered if Patricia’s peculiar aversion from physical love and her erotic letters continued to fuel their bizarre affair. She thought about Fletcher and Michael. The world had become almost too large.
“How are you finding that book, Lilly?” Emily asked. “Is it as shocking as it was? I hear it’s been banned in certain cities.”
“I find it rather amazing, Mama, given what I’ve learned in the past couple of years, that my condition is shocking enough to be censored. What I’ve done can’t really be the worst thing.”
Emily laughed. “Not the worst, darling. Just the most obvious right now.”
She smoothed her hands over her round, hard middle. “Not for long,” she muttered. “Soon it will be the loudest.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The cold rain in mid-November threatened to yield to snow, the first snowfall of the year. Emily was surprised and delighted to have Andrew Devon ushered into the cozy sitting room.
“Oh, Andrew, I’ve been wondering about you,” she said, rising quickly. “We haven’t seen you in such a long time. Let me get you something hot to--”
“No, Emily, please don’t trouble yourself. I really can’t stay long.” He nodded toward Lady Nesbitt, put a hand toward Noel, and smiled at Katherine, who was busy with blocks in front of the fireplace. “She’s growing more beautiful all the time.”
“She does have the good looks of her parents,” Emily said with pride. “You’ll want to tell Dale, when you see him next that Patricia is all right. We’ve had letters from her and--”
“Where’s Lilly?” he asked, looking around. “Working?”
“No, she’s out walking, if you can believe that! She never was one to do reasonable things!”
“No, I guess she never was,” he said. He had not been in this household since the March before. By the way he was greeted he had to assume that the family still did not know that he had been a participant in Lilly’s “unreasonable” behavior. Out walking in this cold drizzle? He frowned, then looked back to Emily.
“I apologize for missing your wedding. I--”
“Never mind that. Don’t explain. No one has more going on than you. How is Wilson?”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping you better informed, there have been so many complications that I’ve been too busy to come for a visit. That’s why I’m here. Wilson has gotten worse--he’s very seriously ill. And I’m afraid things in the Montaine household are in an uproar. Dale is…well, Dale is unable to help very much. Wilson is failing, growing weaker, but he has an uncanny determination to have all his business settled once and for all. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that he doesn’t think those of us he will leave behind are capable.”
“Good Lord,” Amanda said, “he’s gotten that bad without us knowing? Why hasn’t someone--”
“I’m sorry for not calling on you. My own business and the trouble with Brenda have had me literally running between Wilson’s house, Reading, New York, and my own flat. I can barely keep up. That’s the reason I’m here--I have to explain a great deal in a short time.
“Wilson is dying, it’s no use pretending. Although I haven’t done business on his behalf for a long time, I was needed. Dale has made a greater attempt to work for his father than ever before and may finally redeem himself as he loses Wilson, but I’m afraid he just isn’t a businessman. That’s all well and good, so long as he can overcome his other problems. Wilson has divided his property. He’s commanding from the bed, and I’m seeing everything transferred for him. He knows the only way Dale will have a chance of being his own man is if what he’s left behind is in a neat, worry-free bundle.
“Some of the estate is bequeathed to Katherine. Wilson isn’t sure Katherine’s father won’t make serious mistakes in the management, despite Dale’s newfound earnestness.”
“Dale visits us when he can, although it has been well over a month. As I recall, he was very charming the last time, and he wasn’t--” Emily didn’t finish.
Andrew smiled, appreciating Emily’s tact but finding it ludicrous at this late date. “He wasn’t drunk? Well, there’s still some of that going on, but his effort to stay sober and agreeable is greater than I dared hope. Emily, you will be named custodian for Katherine’s inheritance.”
“Me? But I--”
“You can find someone to help you, I’m sure. The thing you need to know is that Wilson is worried about what her parents might do with that money--it’s a considerable amount. The conditions of his will are specific: you have to try to preserve it for her.”
“Of course,” she said, somewhat shaken by such an alien responsibility.
“And if you can spare the time and the weather improves, would you take Katherine to the house to see him? I don’t think it would be a terrible ordeal for her. He’s very weak but not frightening in appearance. Deanna--”
“Is she all right?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “She is, Emily. She’s doing very well. I think you’re to be credited for the happiness Wilson and his wife shared the past few years. Your kindness and acceptance brought a wonderful change over Deanna, and Wilson for that matter. She’ll be lonely without him, which is a wonder in itself. Not too long ago they couldn’t sit at the dinner table together without harsh words. She could use some company, if you could see your way clear.”
“I’ll go the minute the rain stops and the roads are half decent. Oh, Andrew, I’m so sorry for all you have to go through.”
“Wilson’s done a lot for me. This is the least I can do. I meant to come sooner. I’m sorry for the rush. I don’t want to be away too long. When all this is past, I promise to spend some time with you.”
“And Brenda?” she asked when he would turn to go.
He turned back slowly. He sighed heavily. “She has brief periods of respite,” he said, thinking over his words carefully. “But there’s no point in hiding it--she’s not well. She slips in and out. There’s a priest there who can sometimes be a big help to her, but nothing can make that mania disappear forever. I don’t know what’s harder to see, her optimism when she thinks she will be well or her hysteria when she’s in the grip of some other world where everyone is plotting against her and she’s frightened all the time. I…” he looked down and twisted his hat. “I don’t know that you’ll approve, but the marriage is going to be annulled. I’ll continue to see that she’s cared for, of course.”
“Oh Andrew! That must have been such a hard decision for you.”
“There’s no point in doing anything else. I’m afraid it has never been a very fulfilling marriage for either of us. Brenda is in better hands in Reading than she’s ever been elsewhere, especially with me. I think it’s the right thing. There don’t seem to be any good alternatives.”
“An annulment must be a sticky wicket,” Amanda said, “with her illness and all.”
“Well, it is. It takes a long time. Another year I suppose. But the priest suggested it to Brenda, to help her break free of the past. I’m doing all I can for her.”
“Of course you are,” Emily
said. “Are you going back to the Montaine home now?”
“Yes. I hate to be away very long. It’s all there is right now. A man can’t be left alone in his last days.”
When he left them, Emily turned to Amanda. “That poor man has had the worst time of it. I don’t think there’s a more generous soul than Andrew. I hope he can be rewarded someday for all his unselfishness.”
“Unselfishness?” Amanda questioned. “Without Wilson he would have nothing at all. I’m sure he’s right--this is the least he should do.”
“Oh, Mother, sometimes you are so harsh!”
“Yes, yes, I’m harsh. Somebody around here has to be made of nails.”
Lilly walked in the drizzle because the hotel guests would not. She stayed indoors so much of the time that even an ugly day like this one lifted her spirits because she could indulge in a little air and exercise.
Her boots were sodden and her umbrella dripped. She was beginning to shiver from her walk through the brown, drooping gardens, down to the pond, and was on her way back to the rear of the hotel where she would climb the back stairs. She heard her name called.
She lifted her umbrella to see him standing there, not ten feet from her, water pouring off his hat. “Andrew?”
He walked slowly toward her. “I’ve missed you.”
“You haven’t let me know that,” she said. Inside she longed to embrace him, kiss the moisture from his face. She held herself in check, afraid he didn’t love her anymore.
“I wanted a chance to take care of a few things before seeing you. I needed to bolster myself; I wasn’t sure I was up to the masquerade of being just a family friend.”
She couldn’t control a trembling smile, and she lifted her umbrella to let him share it. His arm went around her waist, their child held them apart. He brushed his cheek against hers. “My God. Oh, my God.” He felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and she heard the shaking in his voice.
“It’s a strong baby, Andrew. And Mama says it will be large.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m in perfect health.”
“And otherwise?”
“Otherwise? Oh, it’s difficult, but I knew it would be.”
“Lilly, it’s not too late. You can come away with me. I’ll go right back upstairs with you, tell them the truth, and take you with me.”
She fought the urge to cry, to throw her arms around him. At this moment good sense was harder to achieve than ever before in her life. She had never wanted anything so much as to do just what he suggested.
“I want to, Andrew. I want to go with you right now, but I can’t. I can expect this child to make an appearance soon. Two weeks, perhaps three, perhaps less. I might not make it through the coach ride as far as your flat in the city.”
His lips touched her cheek. “I’ll take care of you. I would never let anything happen to you.”
“I don’t want to be away from my mother now, Andrew. Please understand. The family…they’ve been all I…without them I could not be as well as I am.”
“Has it been terrible, Lilly? Worse than you thought?”
She couldn’t hold back the tears through that question. She leaned against him. “It’s been much harder than I thought. I must have been mad to insist on this damnable honesty. Most of the people I pass can’t meet my eyes. The things they’ll say just loud enough for me to hear would singe your ears. Elizabeth has left me.”
“You don’t have to suffer like this. Come away--”
“Perhaps I will, after the baby is born. Oh, Andrew, I made so many mistakes! I shouldn’t have thought myself so strong! I’m not.” She leaned against him and cried. He stroked her back. With the umbrella over them, they could appear to be a couple sharing an umbrella, chatting in the rain.
“Just to have you in my arms, just for a moment, even if it’s while you cry! Lord, I’ve been half a man without you!”
“I thought you didn’t love me anymore,” she admitted.
“Oh, darling, of course I love you. I was trying to accomplish something toward our future together. The Reading priest who has been helping Brenda has petitioned for an annulment. I believe it’s going to happen. Not in time, of course,” he said, his large hand resting on her swollen middle. “But the moment it does--”
“Oh, Andrew, do you mean it?”
“Yes, I mean it.”
“And Brenda?”
“She’s not well, Lilly. There’s nothing to do except what’s already being done. Enduring it as her husband won’t cure her.”
“But will the annulment…will it--”
“Make her worse? I hope not, but it’s too late now. It’s moving along, and she has cooperated with the request. There’s so much happening right now. Wilson is dying, and I’m the only one capable of untangling all his financial affairs. Fortunately I’ve been too busy to think of myself, but I have thought of you.”
“Do you think you can come here now? Do you think you’re up to it?”
“I’ll try, Lilly.” His arm tightened around her. “I’ll try.”
“We can’t stand here in the rain all day,” she sniffed.
He touched her lips with his. “Will you be all right?”
She nodded. “Better now than I’ve been in months.”
“Go inside. You’re freezing. I’ll try to come back to you soon.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you. Be strong. We’ll get it fixed. Somehow.”
Andrew backed away from her. He took ten slow steps before he raised his hand in farewell. He turned and walked away from her, and she stood, her umbrella shielding her and watched until he was out of sight. Then she slowly turned and continued her trek toward the back of the hotel.
Amanda let the curtain in Lilly’s fifth-floor office window drop. “Damn him!”
When the good smells of cooking permeated the apartments on the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day and all manner of friend and family had gathered for a feast, Lilly excused herself. She had not meant to disrupt the household on a day of fellowship and had therefore kept to herself the fierce tightening she felt. When she knew it would show on her face, she went to her room. It was then that she told her mother that the baby was going to make demands.
Lilly had waited too long. The day was cold and the doctor had to be fetched from his own dinner table. When he arrived two hours later, Emily had delivered Lilly of a large, bellowing son, and Lilly was already holding him.
Amanda waited until all the fuss was over before going in to Lilly’s room to view the infant. She looked down at the baby through her spectacles. “Amazing,” she said, smiling at her granddaughter. “You hardly delayed dinner.”
An hour or so later, when the doctor had gone and Lilly rested comfortably, Amanda ordered a hotel coach and waited on the portico, her cloak pulled tightly around her. She instructed the driver to take her to the Montaine household.
She had no idea what to expect there, but Amanda had spent her life playing on hunches. She found the remnants of Wilson’s family--Dale, Deanna, Andrew--all gathered, but not for the celebration of a feast day. She made much pretense of visiting, sitting quietly with Wilson, Deanna at her side. The poor old man was a withered version of his former self, and his room smelled of a death that would not be easy. His rasping breath made conversation impossible for him, and she made do with promising that Katherine would always be protected.
She then gave Deanna some of her time and encouraged her to come to the Armstrong Arms with as much sincerity as Emily would have used. She spoke at length to Dale, telling him that the mettle she always knew he possessed but had never quite received credit for would rise to this occasion. “Make your father proud of you, Dale. Make Katherine proud. This will require all your strength, but you can salvage a very satisfactory life for yourself.”
It wasn’t until she had duly paid her respects to the sick and grief-stricken that she approached Andrew. “I wonder if I could have a moment of your time
. There’s a business matter of some concern that you can help me with.”
“Certainly,” he said, offering Wilson’s study.
When the doors were closed, she faced him. He gestured toward a chair for her, but she shook her head. “I’ll be brief. You have a son. He’s a big boy and healthy.”
He was momentarily shocked, amazed. He had known the child would come soon. “Then Lilly--”
“She didn’t tell me it’s your son. She doesn’t know that I know. I saw you that day, in the rain. That was very foolish.”
“I’m sorry if you were embarrassed, but since you know now, I’ll go to her and--”
“Wait a minute, young man. I want you to listen to me, and listen carefully. I know you’re constructing some kind of trumped-up annulment. Is this thing really going to happen? Are you actually leaving your marriage?”
“Yes. I actually am. Not my responsibility for Brenda’s care, but the marriage. The annulment is not trumped up, not in the least. I’m justified in this action. I plan to have a life with Lilly.”
“Very well, I wouldn’t want to hinder that. The girl is too damned stubborn to be trifled with--she will have whom she’ll have and not settle, whether or not I approve.”
“And do you?”
“Had I been consulted a year ago, I might have given you my answer with a pistol, but what’s done is done. Now pay attention, young man. Stay away from her, do you hear me? I want to see your face only when your annulment is over with and you’re an unmarried man. Then you may come around, politely, and begin your reacquaintance with my granddaughter. There’s still a hope this ridiculous notion of hers can work--if you are discreet.”
“What do you plan to tell Lilly?”
“Not a damned thing. She’ll only defy me as she always has. As her mother did, as her sister did. The women in my family, Andrew, are all defiant. They all think they know better than the one who went before them. It’s a curse.
