Her Father's House by Belva Plain Read Free Book Online Page A

that had been defrauded of hundreds of millions by a man who was still at large. He had been seen, or reports had come in from people who claimed to have seen him, in places as various and scattered as Brazil, Switzerland, and Baluchistan. The company's subsidiaries had interests forming a complicated web that kept a dozen lawyers like Donald busy all over the globe.
    â€œI work for an international law firm, remember? There's nothing I can do about it, Lillian. Or that I want to do, either,” he added.
    He had not meant to be curt. He wanted peace and contentment, and since he worked for it, it seemed to him that he deserved to have it. And wanting just to shut everything out, he closed his eyes and laid his head on the chair's pillowed back while a heavy silence like a fog crept through the room.
    When he woke up again, there she was, willowy in her slender skirt while one graceful hand toyed with her long necklace, reminding him somehow of one of her favorite paintings; as usual, he failed to remember the artist, some Frenchman, he was very famous. . . .
    This has got to stop. I am too touchy, he thought, and surely not for the first time. Why do I let every little tiff trouble me so? Lighten up! What did I expect? A snug little love nest with never a cross word? People aren't like that. I'm not like that. She's not like that. This is marriage. This is life.
    â€œI'll do what I can,” he said. “Don't you think I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world? Don't you know that?”
    With outstretched arms, she came to him. “When you talk like this, I feel so sorry, Donald, so ashamed of myself. You're too good to me.”
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    He did do what he could. In June, somebody who owned what was said to be a fabulous estate in Westchester was giving a party to which Donald and Lillian, no doubt by way of the Sanders connection, were invited.
    Early in the month, he gave Mr. Pratt the date. “I was wondering whether, since we're probably going to have a meeting soon again in Geneva, whether it would be possible to work around that date a bit? My wife—well, you know how it is, she has her heart set on going to this party. I don't even know the people or anything about them.”
    â€œYou haven't heard about Tommy Fox? About the few billions he made in Mexico? No? Well, it's a couple of years back, and I guess you forgot.” Pratt twinkled. “Or you don't keep up with the social news. Well, tell your wife not to worry.”
    So it was that on a fine, cool evening long before sunset, Donald and Lillian drove out of the city in a sumptuous, attention-getting, imported sports car. He had asked her to rent a car for the occasion, and this was her choice. It suited the occasion, she said. It was worth a hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.
    â€œA hundred and seventy-five? It's not much larger than two trash cans tied together, in my opinion.”
    â€œWell, it's a two-seater, what do you expect?” She laughed. “And it can go over one hundred twenty miles an hour, I'm sure you'll be glad to know.”
    â€œGreat! I'll try it as soon as we're off Riverside Drive.”
    She was full of excitement. Her dress matched her eyes, he remarked. Not exactly, she said. The dress had violet mixed with the blue, and the color was called “periwinkle.” Around her throat lay a narrow diamond necklace about which there could have been some fairly heated discussion if he had not made up his mind that nothing would mar this event, or any event in the future.
    â€œChloe insisted on lending it to me,” she had explained. “You see, what happened is that Frank just gave her another one for her birthday. Of course it's very different from this one, but still she really didn't need it. So now she has two, and she said there's no reason why this one should go to waste when she wants to lend it to me for tonight.”
    Donald's mother would have said that