“Come to bed, Hope,” he said, as though they’d had a pleasant evening, which they certainly hadn’t. It had been anything but that, and now he looked like it had never happened. Watching him lie there, all innocence, made her want to cry.
She got into bed cautiously beside him a few minutes later, after brushing her teeth and putting on her nightgown. She glanced at him as though he were a poisonous snake about to strike.
“Everything is fine,” he said to her soothingly, and put an arm around her. It was almost worse than if he were still angry at her. This was just too confusing. “I was thinking,” he said easily, as she lay there stiffly beside him, waiting to see what would come next. It was impossible to relax now. “I think we should get married next week. There is no reason for us to be waiting. We’re not going to have a wedding anyway, with people coming from far away. And I don’t want to wait any longer. We’re all alone in the world, Hope, you and I. If anything ever happens to either of us, like what just happened to Paul, we should be married. No one wants to die alone.”
“Paul was very sick, for a long time. And I was with him,” she said in a choked voice.
“If either of us has an accident, the other would be unable to make decisions. You don’t have kids or family. Michael’s not here for me. We only have each other.” It was a recurring theme for him tonight, to emphasize her solitude and remind her that she only had him to rely on. “I’d feel better if we were legally married. We can always have a party later, in London, New York, or Cape Cod. It’s time, Hope, it’s been a year. We’re grown-ups. We love each other. We know what we want. There’s no point waiting. And we need to get going on the baby project again,” he said, smiling at her. It was as though the scene in the kitchen had never happened. An hour before, he had been threatening her and slamming her into a wall, and now he wanted to get married in a week, and get her pregnant. Listening to him, Hope felt insane. “It’s been six months since you lost the last baby,” he reminded her, and for once he didn’t say it was her fault. It was as though he had cleared his pipes in the kitchen, and now he was his old self again. The good Finn was back with them, tucked into bed with her. But she no longer believed what she was hearing. She didn’t trust it, or him. Not at all.
And she wasn’t ready to marry him, by any means, and she had the strong impression this was only about money. If he was married to her, and anything happened to her in that isolated house in the Irish countryside, he would be the heir to her fortune, and to Paul’s once that came to her. And with a child, she would be even more locked in. Robert had pointed that out to her the day before in his office, and it was obvious to her too. But she didn’t want to get Finn mad at her again by saying she wasn’t ready to get married. At least not tonight. She’d feel better talking about it in the morning, with Winfred and Katherine around, in broad daylight. Not when she was alone in the house, and he might fly into another rage like the one in the kitchen. She’d had enough excitement for one night.
“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” she said evenly. “I’m exhausted.” The scene with him at dinner had made her feel like she’d been hit by a bus. For several minutes, she had been terrified of him. But he seemed totally calm now, and even loving. She felt as though he had ripped through all her gears, and she was still trembling inside and felt very tense. She tried not to let it show.
“What’s to talk about?” he asked, putting an arm around her. “Let’s just do it.” She could tell that this was going to be the subject of their next big fight.
“We don’t have to make that decision tonight, Finn,” she said softly. “Let’s go to sleep.” It was still early, but she just couldn’t deal with it anymore. She was too hurt, too upset, too disappointed, and had been too frightened to want to talk about anything with him. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, or maybe die. She knew suddenly that this wasn’t going to get better, and it was going to be one fight after another. After his attack on her at dinner, she was losing hope, however nice he was now. It wasn’t likely to last long.
“You don’t love me, do you?” he asked in the voice of a small boy. Suddenly he was the injured child, and not the man who had terrified her, and all he wanted was to be loved. This was getting very sick. He cuddled up to her like a two-year-old nestled at her side and put his head on her shoulder. She sighed as she stroked his hair and face.
She loved him, but the roller-coaster ride was taking her breath away. He continued to snuggle up against her, and she turned off the light, and moments later he was pulling up her nightgown and wanted to make love. She was so upset and overwrought, she didn’t want to, but she was afraid that if she denied him, he’d start a fight with her again. And he was so expert at what he did that within moments, her body responded, even though her mind wanted to push him away, and her heart was totally confused. But her body suddenly wanted him. And he made love to her with such infinite gentleness and caring that there was no way to believe that this was the same man who had attacked her only hours before.
After they made love, she lay awake for hours while he snored. And she finally fell asleep, totally exhausted, at dawn. She had been crying silently all night, and she felt dead inside. He was killing her by inches. She just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter 20
Finn was already up when Hope awoke the next morning. She got out of bed feeling drained and beaten, and her spirits were as gray as the weather. She looked tired and pale when she met him in the pantry eating breakfast. He looked full of energy and cheer, and told her how happy he was to have her home. He even seemed as though he meant it. She no longer knew what to believe.
She was cautiously sipping a cup of tea, when he mentioned the wedding again. He suggested they go in to talk to the vicar in the village, and said they had to go to the embassy in Dublin to get permission for her to be married in Ireland. He was an Irish citizen, but she wasn’t. He had already called the embassy to find out what they needed. And she realized that unless she was willing to marry him, she had to say something to him.
She set her teacup down and looked at Finn. “I can’t,” she said sadly, for reasons she couldn’t begin to broach with him. “Paul just died. I don’t want to start a new life right after something so sad.” It seemed like a reasonable excuse to her, but not to him.
“You were divorced, you’re not his widow,” he said, looking faintly annoyed. “And no one’s going to know the difference.”
“I do,” she said quietly.
“Is there some reason you don’t want to marry me?” he asked, looking hurt. There were an increasing number of them, but she wasn’t willing to discuss any of them with him. His many lies, the investigator’s report, the two women whose deaths he had indirectly caused, his recent demand for money, and his attack on her the night before. All seemed good reasons to her to think long and hard before she married him, or not do it at all. But then why was she living with him? Things between them were not as they had been before, even in their best moments now. There was always an undercurrent of something wrong. Things hadn’t been normal between them in well over a month, or more, ever since he’d asked her for the money.
“It’s not a simple matter,” Hope said patiently. “We have to get a prenuptial drawn up, sign papers, talk to lawyers. I’ve mentioned it to them, but it takes more than a couple of days. And I’d really rather get married in New York.”
“Fine,” he said, changing tacks unexpectedly, and for a split second, she was relieved. That had been easier than she thought. “Then how about you set up the account we talked about before? And we can wait to get married till the summer.” It was back to that again.
“What are we talking about, Finn?” She remembered the amounts, but she was wondering if anything had changed.
“I told you I’d settle for four million dollars, although I’d rather have five. But that was before Paul died. Given what he’s leaving you, I really think it should be ten.” Hope let out a sigh as she listened. This was exhausting, and none of it made sense, or maybe it did. Maybe this was all it had ever been about. She felt like she was fighting for her life from the moment she woke up until she went to sleep at night. “I know you don’t have the money from Paul yet. So let’s do five now, and five after the money from Paul comes through.” It seemed perfectly reasonable to him. He said it as though he was asking her to stop at the hardware store, or get him a subscription to a magazine. And he acted as though he expected her to do it, without question, and was sure she would.
“So you want five now, and five later,” she said, sounding like a robot. “And what kind of arrangement when we get married?” She figured she’d get it all on the table now, instead of waiting for him to ambush her with it.
