The White Rose by Jean Hanff Korelitz Read Free Book Online Page B

nannies had blown it all that way, between their left-behind siblings in Cavan or Monaghan and those little brown babies, lining up for a shot and a school uniform? Where were those brown babies now, and where were the nannies?
    “Marian?”
    She looks up. “Hmm?”
    “I said,” Valerie says, enunciating carefully, “have you?”
    “Have I what?” Marian says.
    “Been to the Steiner mansion.”
    “Oh. No.”
    “No?” says Valerie with disbelief. “You mean, in all this time?”
    Marian feels addled. She must have missed something significant amid the superficial nattering on the opposite sofa. “Time since…?”
    “Since the restoration. Mort is so generous with the house. I’ve been to many events there,” she says, smugly.
    With one pocket full of purloined Beluga and the other hiding a tape recorder, Marian thinks, but she assembles her most gracious smile.
    “Oh, you’re lucky. I’ve never been. Is it lovely?”
    Valerie turns back to Barton, since this is a question which evidently needn’t be answered.
    “Now what’s happening tonight?” she asks.
    He shrugs his meaty shoulders. “Haven’t the faintest. Some sort of family dinner. They have it every Friday. But Sophie and I have an appointment tomorrow with an attorney for the prenuptial.”
    “Ooh…” Surprisingly, Valerie has found room to lean back still farther. Any more and she’ll be supine, Marian thinks. “Aren’t you smart. We all have to be so careful today. It’s extremely wise to settle financial matters before a marriage.”
    Oh Barton, thinks Marian, the time has come to shut up now.
    “I couldn’t agree more,” he says with a nod. “Where there are assets, there must be clarity. For example, when Mort was last with me at The Retreat, I was telling him about all the work that the estate still requires. There is a significant problem with the original molding on the ground floor, which we are going to have to replace. Now I don’t need to tell you that this is fantastically expensive. You’ve got to find someone who can mill wood on the old machines, and with the kind of intricate original we’ve got there, this makes the thing doubly challenging. But Mort said at the time, he said to me, ‘Barton, this is preservation work of the highest order, and it must be done right. We cannot take the chance of having it bungled, it’s too important!’ ”
    “Sure.” Valerie nods.
    “So clearly he intends to make some contribution to this effort. Not that I’m surprised, given his interest in early architecture, not to mention New York history and the part my family has played in it. Soon to be his daughter’s family, I should add. But I do think we will all be more comfortable once these intentions are down in black and white.” He finishes with a nod.
    Marian looks at him blankly. Does he mean to bill Mort Klein for his restoration costs?
    “Barton,” Marian says. She can’t stop herself. “You’re not intending to make your repair bills part of your prenuptial agreement.”
    He looks at her as if she is mad. “Not at all! Not at all! I mean for it to be a separate matter. Entirely separate.”
    “Oh.” She is relieved. “Well, good.”
    “A separate document. Quite apart from any arrangements we might make regarding the marriage. If Mort wishes to contribute to the restoration of an important American home, and he has given every indication that he wishes to do so, then I see no reason we shouldn’t put that in writing.”
    Marian looks at Valerie. Valerie is beaming. Valerie must be wild to get to her laptop, her cell phone.
    Barton, misunderstanding, leans forward conspiratorially. “After all, I am making my own gifts in this arrangement, am I not? Over the years I’ve had many opportunities to marry. I mean, within my own social group. I say this not as a snob, mind you! Marian can tell you that I am a very humble person. I do not call attention to myself or demand special favors because of our