A Christmas to Remember (23 page)

“The fixing up is what I’m afraid of. You won’t paint the dinner room Day-Glo orange, will you?”

“Of course not.” Sara took heart. Was her grandmother seriously considering this idea?

“Does your mother know about this scheme? Is she in on it with you? She’s been waiting for a good excuse to come in here and
renovate.
” Lillian practically spat out the word.

“No, I didn’t talk to her about it. I wanted to ask you first.”

“Oh, theres a switch. It’s usually a done deal by the time I get wind of anything important.”

“So, will you think about it?”

Lillian glanced at her for a moment. “Yes, I’ll take it under consideration. There will be limits, of course, to what I will allow to be altered, moved around, etcetera.”

“Yes, I understand.” Sara decided she would quit now while she was ahead. “Would you like to come into the living room? Luke and I are ready to put ornaments on the tree.”

“Do you have the tree up already?” Lillian seemed surprised at their progress. “You must be very careful with the ornaments, Sara. They’re extremely fragile—hand-blown glass from Switzerland and Italy—and valuable family heirlooms. I don’t want anything broken—”

“Of course not. That’s why we want you to help us. To tell us where everything should go.”

Sara knew Lillian would direct anyway, but she wanted her grandmother to feel that she and Luke recognized her authority—even if they had turned her house upside down the last few days.

Lillian took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll come out in a minute. Just let me get my bearings. Would you bring me a cup of tea?”

Sara nodded and rose from her seat on the bed. “That’s no trouble. I’ll be right back.”

Boston, December 1955

L
ILLIAN SAT IN HER USUAL PLACE AT THE LONG DINING ROOM TABLE
.
She couldn’t eat a bite; her stomach was jumping with nerves. No one seemed to notice, though. Her younger brother, Lawrence, was home from Princeton on his holiday break, and all eyes were turned his way. Her father had picked Lawrence up at the train station last night, and this was their first dinner together as a family. Her father was drilling Lawrence about his term, how his exams went, and what grades he expected

“The history final was harder than I expected,” her brother admitted. “There were two essay questions, and I had to take the full two hours to finish.”

“Take your time,” her father advised. “You shouldn’t rush through these examinations, Lawrence. This year is very important for you. You won’t get into Harvard Law with less than an A-minus average.”

“What about that fellow you know who’s going to help him?” her mother asked. “That judge something or other. I thought he was going to write a recommendation.”

“He will write a recommendation. He’ll write a very persuasive one. But the boy needs the grades to back it up.”

As usual, her father got very agitated whenever his son’s future was discussed. Lillian wasn’t sure what her father would do if Lawrence didn’t get accepted to Harvard Law. Throw himself into the Charles River maybe? Or throw Lawrence?

She had done her undergraduate and master’s studies at
Wellesley and had been accepted to start her doctoral work at Harvard, but her father didn’t seem to take much notice of it, except when he complained about the tuition bills.

The dinner plates were cleared and the maid brought out fruit and dessert. Nancy came to the dining room door then. She looked straight at Lillian, and Lillian felt her heartbeat race.

“There’s a young man to see you, miss. Shall I show him in?”

Her parents both stared at her. “Are you expecting someone, Lillian?”

Lillian didn’t answer. She nodded at the housekeeper. “Yes, show him into the library, Nancy. I’ll be right up.”

Then she stood up and slowly pushed her chair back under the table. Her legs felt like jelly, and she had to hold on to the back for support.

“You haven’t answered us, Lillian,” her mother said more sharply.

Lillian felt them all staring at her. Beth met her eyes then looked away. Even though Lillian hadn’t told Beth about her secret engagement, she could tell her little sister had already guessed who their visitor was. Well, it was time they all knew.

“It’s Oliver Warwick. He wants to speak to you, Father. To both of you,” she added, glancing at her mother.

Her father sat back in his chair, looking red-faced and shocked. “Warwick? What the devil is he doing here? Did you know he was coming here, Lillian?”

She could see he didn’t understand what any of this signified, and she didn’t dare start explaining it to him. Not without Oliver at her side.

She turned and walked quickly toward the door. “Just come with me to see him, please? That’s all I ask of you. It won’t take very long.”

Her father jumped up from his chair and tossed his napkin on the table. “You’re darned right it won’t take long. I’ll have that bum out on his ear.” He looked over at a baffled Lawrence. “Come with me, son. I may need your help.”

The entire family paraded out of the dining room and climbed up one flight to the library. Lillian heard them a few steps behind her. She opened the library door and saw Oliver standing there, scanning the titles in the bookcase. He turned and smiled when she walked in. He held two bouquets of long-stemmed roses. He wore an elegant navy-blue suit and a burgundy silk tie. He looked perfect, she thought. She had to hold herself back from running into his arms.

“Hello, Lillian. I hope I’m not too early?” He glanced at his gold watch.

“No, you’re right on time.”

“Good. These flowers are for you.” He handed her a bouquet. “And these are for your mother.”

Lillian was too nervous to think about flowers and set them aside on the library table.

“Do you have your ring?” Oliver picked up her hand and looked at her blank finger.

She nodded. “Right here, in my pocket.”

“I think you should be wearing it.”

“You’re right. I should.” Lillian took out the diamond ring Oliver had given her and slipped it on her finger.

He watched as she did it, then met her eyes and smiled. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Lillian glanced at the door. She heard her family coming. “I need to warn you. My father is very—”

Her father burst into the room, his glance searing as he took in Lillian and Oliver, standing close together, talking quietly. Inti
mately. He couldn’t have looked any more shocked or disdainful if he had found them kissing, she thought.

She quickly stepped to one side of Oliver, but he reached out and lightly touched her arm, giving her a moment of courage.

“Hello, sir. I’m Oliver Warwick. You must be Lillian’s father.” Oliver stepped forward and held out his hand.

Albert Merchant stared at his hand but didn’t take it.

“What the devil do you think you’re doing here? Didn’t I make myself perfectly clear in our last conversation? Do you want me to have you removed by the police? Or will you go willingly?”

Oliver squared his shoulders, still wearing a small smile.

“The situation has changed since our last conversation, Mr. Merchant. I don’t think there’s any need to call the police, sir.” He was speaking in a very dignified way, Lillian thought. Not like a nervous twit, shaking in his boots, but not arrogant and disrespectful of her father, either.

“I hope you will hear me out, Mr. Merchant. What I have to say is very important. In fact, it’s crucial to your daughter’s future happiness.”

“There’s nothing you’d have to say that would be important to me, young man,” her father shouted.

Lillian saw her mother creep forward from the doorway and tug on her father’s sleeve. “Let him speak, Albert. I want to know what’s going on here.”

“Very well,” her father said reluctantly. “What is all this about? Do you want permission to see Lillian? Well, we won’t allow that. I thought I made that clear to you weeks ago.”

Oliver smiled calmly. “I want permission to marry her, sir.” He looked down at Lillian and took her hand. “Lillian has accepted my proposal. We’re engaged.”

Lillian looked back at her parents’ pale, shocked faces. Her
mother put her hand to her throat and sat down heavily in a chair. Her father’s face turned beet red, his eyes bulging.

“Engaged? You can’t be engaged! That’s impossible.”

Oliver’s expression grew serious. Lillian could sense him digging in, holding his ground. He wasn’t the least bit cowed by her father’s temper. She could see that underneath Oliver’s casual, breezy attitude, there really was a steely backbone.

“We are, sir. I’ve given her a ring and she’s accepted.” He turned to Lillian, who held out her hand. Her father took a step forward and stared at the diamond.

Lawrence gaped over his shoulder. “Wow, that’s some rock!”

“Lawrence! Behave yourself,” her mother scolded. She was sniffling quietly into a handkerchief.

“So I see. A ring. So what? That doesn’t mean anything,” her father scoffed. “Lillian will just have to give it back to you. I suppose you two have been sneaking around behind our backs, lying to us all this time and betraying our trust. Haven’t you, Lillian?” he shouted.

Lillian shivered and Oliver put his arm around her shoulder. “You left us little choice, sir, considering your attitude toward me, sight unseen. You’ve listened to a lot of rumors and hearsay. I’m not the man you seem to think I am.

“All I ask is the chance to prove that I’m worthy of your daughter. We can have a long engagement, as long as you like. I can give Lillian a good life, everything she’s ever hoped for. If love counts for anything, she’ll never find a man who could love her more than I do.”

Lillian’s eyes were locked on her father. Was he swayed at all by Oliver’s plea?

“We want your blessing, Father,” she spoke up. “We want both of your blessings,” she added, looking over at her mother.

“Oh, Lillian! How could you do this to us?” Her mother was sobbing, covering her face with her hands.

“Over my dead body!” her father declared. “I’ve asked around about you, Warwick. I know all about you, and fine words can’t change what you are and always will be. We may not be as wealthy as your family, young man, but we’re decent people. I’m sure that you tricked poor Lillian into this secret romance—tricked and seduced her with your lies. She’s a respectable young woman and will not be dragged into the gutter by the likes of you, a divorced, debauched…scoundrel!”

Her father moved toward Oliver, looking like he might deck him. Lillian stepped between them. “Dad, I love him. We want to be married.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! What do you know about love?” Her mother stepped up alongside her. “Come with me.” She tugged on Lillian’s arm, pulling her away from Oliver and toward the door. “Let your father handle this. And give back that ring!”

Her mother grabbed Lillian’s hand and tried to pry the ring off her finger, but Lillian snatched her hand away.

“Lillian, are you all right?” Oliver started to follow her, but as he walked across the room she saw her father and Lawrence grab him on either side and hold him back.

“Take Lillian upstairs, Ruth. We’ll show Mr. Warwick to the door.”

Lillian glanced over her shoulder as her mother pushed her out of the room, taking one last glimpse of Oliver, his wide, startled eyes and sad expression.

“All right, just don’t hurt her,” she heard Oliver say to her father and brother.

She stopped fighting. They had lost. She let her mother lead
her up the stairs toward her bedroom. Beth followed slowly behind, sad and silent.

When they reached Lillian’s bedroom, her mother practically shoved her inside. “Go on, get in there. I can’t bear to look at you. Your father and I will come and speak to you when we’re ready.”

Lillian threw herself on her bed, muffling her sobs in her pillow. She felt as if she could cry for hours, until she was empty and hollow inside. There seemed no hope for her, nothing to live for, no reason to take another breath.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there when she felt a hand gently stroke her hair. “Poor Lily,” Beth said. She knelt down beside the bed and Lillian turned to look at her. “So that was Oliver,” she whispered.

“Yes, that was him all right.”

“I thought he was wonderful—the way he stood up to Father and said how much he loves you. And he’s so handsome.”

He had been wonderful, Lillian thought, but it hadn’t helped. “Oh, Beth, everything seems worse now than it did before.” Lillian felt more tears welling up. “They’ll never let me marry him. They won’t even hear him out.”

Beth stroked Lillian’s hair again. “You can’t give up now, not if you really love each other. That’s the most important thing.”

Lillian met her sister’s gaze. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

Her parents’ recriminations and anger hurt her deeply, but that was nothing compared to the heartbreaking despair she felt at the idea of never seeing Oliver again.

Beth gazed down at Lillian’s hand as it rested on the blanket. “Is that a real diamond?” she asked quietly. “I’ve never seen one that large. His family must be very rich.”