O'hara's Choice - Leon Uris [85]
Fifi became the wife of a Maryland planter of renown, calved two children of her own with him, and established a small bastion of art, music, and literature on the lowly and removed Eastern Shore.
They were a splendid couple, and she kept splendid control of a menagerie without having recourse to internecine warfare.
And what of Lilly?
Lilly and Felix journeyed on a well-known road of marriage that settled somewhere between the tepid and the occasionally simmering.
Lilly lived in the magnificent Château Villiard in the country, and in a breathtaking Paris residence near the Bois de Boulogne.
She traveled with Felix to Egypt on her first and only archaeological dig, discovering that a barge on the Nile was not a barge on the Loire. Egyptology was not her game, but despite prior warnings, she had chosen a man afflicted with it and she dared not protest his long absences.
By the time she reached nineteen, Lilly was the mother of twins, Chantel and Maurice. The molding of Baroness Lilly was right on course.
For several years she summered in Newport with the twins while her mari plundered tombs and vanished into the seedy mysteries of Cairo.
George Barjac grew remorseful about having fed his daughter to a dilettante. His own marriage to Fifi had set off chimes of happiness. The blandness and lack of fire of his daughter’s marriage and the questionable motives of his son-in-law in entering into it soon tinged him with guilt.
George built Lilly a lovely private summer villa a bit removed on the Onde la Mer estate, as a second home.
There was a saving grace. The flaws in the Villiard marriage were numerous, but it developed a central theme, vital to both husband and wife. Together Felix and Lilly had power.
Power as a couple was understood by them, and a well-worked- out series of compromises ensued. In Paris, they moved well together, and from time to time pleasured each other. In Paris, they did not tempt scandal.
. . . but Cairo was another thing.
. . . and so was Newport. The twins were immersed in activities with their cousins, and with impeccable cleverness, Lilly was able to have summer dalliances. She chose men who were visiting Newport as artists or writers, and she crafted short affairs beyond the reach of scandal.
Lilly’s sisters and brothers and sisters-in-law and brothers-in-law were strongly in sympathy and put up a “blue” wall of silence.
And Lilly always went home to Paris at season’s end.
• 25 •
YOLANDA
Early Summer—1891—Coaster’s Island
Every day at dawn, the major and the lieutenant did a drill of stretches and pull-ups and ran several laps around Coaster’s. Soon the water would be warm enough for Zach to add in a half-mile swim. Fortunately, Ben could skip that exercise, having learned that swimming with one arm was a losing proposition.
Zach reached the giant eucalyptus tree first and jogged in place until Ben caught up.
“Enough for me,” Ben panted.
“I want to do another round,” Zach said, and sprinted off.
Ben plopped, took a swig from his canteen, and viewed the small-boat marina bobbing about as he lit up.
Ben was worried, for sure. His command consisted of but one man, but that one man, Zach, was tidying up his dreams and visions.
An envelope was on Ben’s desk. Amanda Kerr had reached Tobermory. The contents of that envelope could blow everything up in his face.
Three days earlier, he had given Zach permission to construct a scale model. Zach worked the clock out and set up the Battle of Trafalgar, after which Ben gave a discourse. How quickly O’Hara absorbed Horatio Nelson’s crossing the T and smashing the enemy fleets.
“Sort of like a naval version of hit the beach running,” Zach commented.
Zach was so filled with energy that Ben wondered if he would go into orbit. Was that girl going to derail him? If the news was good or bad, should he let Zach free-float into a mess in Newport