The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [240]
“And she succeeded,” Genie said, “until one foolhardy act brought the Ivanoffs back into the limelight. Suddenly everyone wanted to know who the ‘Lady’ selling the Ivanoff emerald was, and everyone wanted to find her. Because it seems those stories about the billions in the Swiss banks waiting to be claimed by the rightful heir were true. And there was one more thing the big nations wanted—the right to certain mines in Rajasthan that had been found to contain valuable deposits of strategic minerals.”
She paused, shuffling her notes, and then she looked directly into the camera and said, “I am the ‘Lady’ they were looking for. My real name is Anna Sofia Yevgenia Adair. My mother was the Xenia Ivanoff who escaped from the forest at Varishnya all those years ago.”
Cal glanced anxiously at Missie. She was leaning forward, chin in hand, listening intently as Genie told the story of Ava Adair and their lives. She went on to say that she had handed over the rights to the mines to the U. S. government and that with her billion-dollar inheritance she intended to set up a foundation to help the needy of the world, the refugees, the homeless, the starving children, as well as for education, and that she would be giving up her career in television to run it.
Missie gasped as Genie held up a photograph of her and said, “But it is not me to whom America owes a debt of gratitude. It is Missie O’Bryan, because if it were not for her, none of this would belong to our country. Missie O’Bryan Abrams is the true ‘Lady’ America should honor.”
The picture faded and the announcer thanked Genie and said there would be a discussion on the situation later that evening.
“So,” Cal said, switching off the set, “everything worked out all right, after all.” But Missie was staring silently at the black screen, lost in her own dreams. He added cheerily, “Genie will be here soon. Why don’t we ask Nurse Milgrim for some tea while we wait?”
He pressed the bell and a few minutes later Nurse Milgrim appeared with a tray. She glanced doubtfully at Missie and then back to Cal.
“There’s no need to be angry with Cal,” Missie said quietly. “I’m just thinking about the past….”
He watched her silently as the minutes ticked by on her little mantel clock, so many minutes, such a long, eventful life. He knew now where Genie got her spirit. Missie O’Bryan, one of life’s great survivors, had taught her to meet the world head on and to follow her heart as well as her head.
He glanced up as the door opened and Genie’s sad eyes met his. His heart lurched as she smiled gamely at him, tilting her chin at the old arrogant angle.
“Okay?” she asked quietly.
“You were great,” he replied simply.
She walked over to Missie, and sinking to her knees, took her hand. They gazed at each other in silence and though neither one spoke, for a few moments Cal felt as if he were eavesdropping on their silent conversation. He knew they had no need for words.
Genie sighed as she rested her head on her “grandmother’s” knee, and Missie stroked her soft blond hair lovingly.
She looked at Genie and then at Cal, and then she picked up Misha’s photograph and looked at it for a long time.
“You know, Misha,” she said softly at last, “sometimes I wonder whether it was all true. Did I really love you, and did you really love me?”
She replaced the photograph with a sigh. “And sometimes I ask myself whether I based my whole life on the romantic dreams of a young girl.”
She sat back in her chair, her eyes closed, and Genie stroked her hand gently. She knew what Missie was telling her. That the past was the past. And life was for living. Her glance locked with Cal’s—those lovely red-setter brown eyes—and she smiled.
Special Advance Preview
from Elizabeth Adler’s New Novel
Fortune Is a Woman
Available February 1992 from Delacorte Press
PROLOGUE
1937
When Lysandra’s grandfather, the Mandarin Lai Tsin, knew he had very little time left on this earth, he took her to visit Hong Kong. He was seventy