She felt better when she got back to the house, and decided to empty two closets that were full of ancient dusty linens. She was sneezing incessantly at the top of a ladder when Finn found her there late that afternoon. She had been easy to find when he heard the sneezing, and scolded her when he found her.
“What are you doing on that ladder?” he said with a disapproving scowl, as she blew her nose for the hundredth time and looked at him.
“Getting rid of this mess.” Shelf by shelf, she was pulling the yellowed linens down, tossing them to the ground, and as she did, a cloud of dust rose each time, and made her sneeze again. “This stuff must have been sitting here for a hundred years. It’s filthy.”
“And you’re a fool,” he said angrily. “Now get off that ladder. I’ll do that if you want. If you fall, you’ll kill the baby.” She stared at him in surprise, and then smiled, touched by his concern.
“I’m not going to fall off, Finn. The ladder is perfectly solid. We found it in the stables.” It was the only one tall enough to reach the top shelves in the closets, because the ceilings were so high. But he was serious, and held the ladder for her, as she reluctantly got down. “I’m not a cripple, for heaven’s sake, and I’m only a few weeks pregnant.” She lowered her voice so no one would hear them, although Winfred and Katherine were both so deaf that it was unlikely they would, and there was no one else around.
“I don’t care. You have a responsibility to all three of us now. Don’t be stupid,” he said, and climbed the ladder for her. And in less than a minute, as he did the same job, he was sneezing too. And a moment later, they were both laughing. It was a relief after the somber discoveries she had made that day. The sad story of Audra was still on her mind, but she didn’t mention it to him again, she knew now how painful it was for him, and she felt sorry for him. “Can’t we just throw this stuff away?” Finn asked, looking at the heap of yellowed linens on the ground. Most of them were tablecloths no one had used for years, and the rest were sheets for beds in sizes that no longer existed.
“I will, but we had to at least pull them out first. We can’t let them sit up there forever.” She was becoming the unofficial mistress of the manor, and Finn was pleased to see it.
“You’re such a little housewife,” he teased her, and then he smiled down at her from the top of the ladder. “I can’t wait till we have a baby running around here. It’ll really feel like a home then. Until you came along, Hope, it just felt like a house.”
She had infused her own life and spirit into it, just by cleaning it up and moving things around, and the furniture she’d had restored looked beautiful, although there was still too little of it. The house was mostly empty, and it would have cost a fortune to fill it. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds, so she was trying to do her best with what was there, and only added a few things, as small gifts to him. He was deeply appreciative of everything she did. And the results were looking good, although it was obvious that it would take years to restore the house to its original condition, and probably more money than Finn would ever see. But at least he had claimed his mother’s family’s ancestral home, and she knew what it meant to him.
His love for the house was almost as deep as his love for her. He had come home to his roots, and reclaimed them. It was a major step for him. And he felt as though he had been waiting to do that all his life, and often said that to her. He knew that his mother would have been proud of him, if she were still alive to see it. And Hope loved sharing the experience with him. Her efforts to improve it for him, and return it to its previous glory, were a gesture of love for him.
For the next several weeks, Finn continued to work on his book, and Hope took a few pictures. She took them discreetly in the pub sometimes, mostly of old people, and no one seemed to mind. Most of them were flattered. After Finn finished work in the afternoons, they went for long quiet walks in the hills. He talked with her about his work, and how the book was going. She paid close attention to everything he said, and was fascinated by the process of his work, as he was with hers. As he had even before he met her, he loved the photographs she took. And he particularly liked the series she was doing of old men and women in the pubs. They had wonderful faces and expressive eyes, and seen through Hope’s lens, they were transfused with all the tenderness and pathos of the human spirit. They had tremendous respect for each other’s work. No one had taken as great an interest in her work before, nor had anyone in his.
They talked about the baby, although she didn’t like to dwell on the subject. She didn’t want to get her hopes up too much now that she had gotten comfortable with the idea. The first three months were always unsure, and at her age even more so. Once she got past that, she would really allow herself to celebrate the idea. Until then, she was hopeful and excited, but trying to remain calm and realistic, and somewhat reserved. Finn had already given his whole heart to it, and she had long since forgiven him for the hideous afternoon at the fertility doctor in London, and even for getting her drunk and pregnant later that afternoon. The results of it were too sweet to resist, and she loved him more than ever, particularly now with this additional bond. She was feeling mellow, happy, and very much in love.
They were talking about getting married, and they both loved the idea. All Hope wanted was to spend the rest of her life with him, and he felt exactly the same way. And their plans to marry in the near future made her feel very much mistress of his home.
She was emptying drawers in the dining room one day, in her continuing efforts to purge the house of old, meaningless things, when she came upon a lease that had just been tossed into a bottom drawer. And it looked relatively new. She was going to leave it on Finn’s desk, and then realized what it was. It was a six-year lease for Blaxton House that Finn had signed two years before. And as she read it, she realized that the house had been rented, not bought. She was floored. He had said the house was his.
She thought about putting the lease back in the drawer, and not mentioning it to him. It wasn’t really any of her business, but it troubled her all that afternoon. It wasn’t just that he had lied to her, but it seemed so odd to her that he would tell her he owned it, when in fact it was only rented. And finally, she couldn’t stand it, and decided to clear the air with him. It seemed like an important point to her. Honesty was a crucial part of the relationship they were building, which they both hoped would last for years, hopefully forever. And she wanted no secrets between them. She had none from him.
She waited until teatime to ask him about it, and they were eating the sandwiches and soup that Katherine provided for them every evening. She made them a hot meal at noon, with hearty meat and vegetables and Irish potatoes, which Finn ate and she didn’t. Hope preferred lighter meals, and she was grateful that as her pregnancy progressed, she felt fine. If anything, she ate more than usual, and she hadn’t been nauseous for a minute. She hadn’t been with Mimi either. In the twenty-three years since her last pregnancy, nothing had changed, and she felt healthier than ever, and looked it. She had the bloom of youth and motherhood in her eyes and on her cheeks, despite her age. In fact, she looked suddenly younger than ever.
She broached the subject carefully as they finished the meal. She wasn’t quite sure how to do it, and didn’t want to embarrass him or make him feel exposed by what she had discovered. In the end, she decided to just say it.
“I found something in a drawer in the dining room today,” she said as she folded her napkin and Finn took a long swallow of wine. He always drank more in the evening when he was writing a book. It helped him relax, after concentrating on the story all day. Hope could see that it was grueling work.