Matters Of The Heart

Chapter 19

As it turned out, it snowed the night Hope left New York, and her plane sat on the runway, delayed, for four hours, waiting for the storm to lessen. They eventually took off, but the winds were against them, and it was a long bumpy flight to Dublin. There were delays getting the bags off the plane, and instead of arriving at Robert Bartlett’s office at ten in the morning, she arrived at two-thirty in the afternoon, tired and disheveled, dragging her finally retrieved suitcase behind her.

“I’m so sorry!” she apologized as he came out to greet her. He was a tall, slim, distinguished-looking man with graying sandy-blond hair, green eyes, and a cleft in his chin that was more noticeable when he smiled, which he did often. He had a friendly face, and a warm demeanor. He made tea for her while she settled into one of the comfortable chairs in his office. The law firm was in a small historical building in Southeast Dublin, on Merrion Square, near Trinity College. There were lovely Georgian houses and a large park. The floors of his office were crooked, the windows were off center, and the general atmosphere was one of cozy disorder. It was a far cry from their fancy, sterile New York office. Robert liked this much better, and was almost sorry he was going back. And after seven years in Dublin he was very much at home there, and so were his children. But he wanted to be closer to his children, both of whom were in college now at Ivy League schools on the East Coast, although he said that one of them wanted to come back to Ireland after college.

He and Hope talked for hours about the vagaries of Finn, the lies he had told, and her hope that somehow, magically, things would get better. Robert knew not to argue with her, but he kept reminding her of the evidence she did have, and the unlikelihood that Finn would mend his ways now, even if he loved her. Robert knew it was a slow process giving up the dream, and all he hoped was that Finn didn’t do something really terrifying to her in the meantime. He reminded her again and again to trust her instincts, and get out if she felt she should. He couldn’t say that to her often enough, and wanted to impress her with it. It was essential, and she promised him that she wouldn’t stay if she was uncomfortable, but she didn’t think Finn would harm her physically. His style these days seemed to be more psychological torture. And she hadn’t told him yet that she was coming back, and surely not that she was spending the day in Dublin with an attorney before she did.

By the time they had finished talking, it was five o’clock and Robert told her that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of her going back to Blaxton House in the evening. She had to rent a car, which would take time, and then get there, and she had already said how uncomfortable she was driving in Ireland, particularly at night. Worse than that, she might arrive when Finn was in a black mood or drinking. Winfred and Katherine would have gone back to the village for the night. He just didn’t think it was smart. He suggested she stay at a hotel in Dublin that night, and go back in broad daylight the next morning. And as she thought about it, she agreed with him. She was anxious to see Finn, although nervous about it, but getting there late in the evening could mean putting her head in the lion’s mouth if he’d been drinking. It just wasn’t smart, and she agreed.

Robert suggested a hotel she knew, and his secretary made a reservation for her. It was the best hotel in Dublin. And since he was leaving the office, he offered to drop her off with her suitcase, which she gratefully accepted. It had been a pleasant afternoon talking to him, although the subject was difficult. What was happening in her life was so disappointing and painful. As hard as it was to justify or explain, she was still in love with Finn, the one she had known in the beginning, not the man he was now. It was hard to believe and absorb all the terrible things she’d heard about him, yet she had doubts about him herself. But when she had asked for the investigation, she hadn’t expected to get the kind of information she did. Now she had to decide what to do about it. But sadly, it didn’t change how attached she was to him, which only made the distressing discoveries hurt more. It seemed like a huge problem. Robert had said to her that afternoon that ultimately the situation would take care of itself. It was the kind of thing her teacher in India would have said, or her favorite monk in Tibet. And for the rest of the way to the hotel, she talked about her travels. Robert was impressed, and they had a very agreeable conversation.

The doorman took her bag when they reached the hotel, and Robert turned to her with a kind expression. He knew this was a hard time for her, and she was anxious about seeing Finn the next morning. She had no idea what to expect, or what kind of mood he’d be in. There was no way to know if she’d be meeting the good Finn or the bad Finn, the old Finn or the new Finn, and she had admitted to Robert that she was feeling very stressed about it, particularly after his many warnings about what potentially lay ahead.

“Would you like to go out for an easy dinner tonight? Pizza? The pub? There’s a halfway decent Chinese place not far from here. And a really good Indian one, if you like hot food. I’ve got a court appearance tomorrow, and I know you want to get on the road early, so if you want to grab a bite, I could pick you up in an hour. I only live a few blocks from here.” She actually liked the idea. He was a nice person, and she was feeling jangled by everything she had in her head. She didn’t really want to eat alone in her room, or go out on her own in Dublin, it seemed too depressing, and it would be friendlier dining with him. He was just an ordinary decent man, but a smart one, and Mark had said he was an excellent attorney. She appreciated his advice so far, a lot of which wasn’t legal, but even more useful to her, given the situation she was in.

“I’d love that,” Hope said gratefully, looking tired and worn out.

“Terrific. Put on a pair of jeans, and I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

She checked into her room, which was small, elegant, and clean. She didn’t need anything fancy, and she lay down on the bed for a few minutes, before taking a shower, putting on jeans, and brushing her hair. He was back in exactly an hour, as promised. And as she looked at Robert as they drove to the restaurant in his car, it was hard to imagine him in the clutches of the evil Nuala, or even besotted with her. He looked like an even-tempered, sensible person. He had worn jeans that night too, with a sweater and a pea coat, and he looked younger than he had in a suit. She guessed him to be about Finn’s age, and close to hers. He said he was originally from California. San Francisco. And had gone to Stanford, followed by Yale Law School. She told him about her father teaching at Dartmouth, and he laughed and said he loved beating them when he played football for Stanford. He said Dartmouth had a great team. He had played amateur ice hockey too, at Yale, and still looked fit and healthy, although he claimed he wasn’t. But he said he loved to go skating with his girls, both of whom were on sports teams in college. He was looking forward to seeing them for Christmas. They were all meeting in New York for the holidays, staying at the Pierre, and he was planning to start looking for an apartment, since he was moving back in March or April.

Hope had no idea where she’d be by then. Either back in New York, heartbroken, or still in Ireland, things having settled down with Finn, maybe even married. She sounded hopeful, and Robert nodded and didn’t comment. He had said enough on the phone and that afternoon. Hope had all the information she needed, and he hoped that when she was ready, she’d use it. It was all he could do. There was nothing for him to do for her legally at the moment, except be available to her. She now had his office, home, and cell phone numbers written down on a piece of paper in her bag. And he told her to use them, and not be shy if she needed advice or help at any hour. That’s what he was there for, and he was happy to help.

The curry was delicious and they talked about her travels again. He was fascinated by her stories, and her work, and said he had never been anywhere exotic. Just Europe and Scandinavia, mostly on business. He looked like a typical Ivy League suburban husband, with an extra dose of kindness in his eyes.

They finished dinner early and he took her back to the hotel, and wished her luck for the next day, and a good rest that night.

“Remember, you’re not alone now. I’m an hour away at any time. If you get in real trouble, call me, and I can get help to you in minutes. Or call the police. Or just get out.” She smiled at what he said, it was like preparing for a war, and she didn’t think that Finn would ever be violent with her, or dangerous. He would be upsetting, and argue with her, or drink too much and then pass out, but it wouldn’t get worse than that. She knew him well and reassured Robert. His wife had been an exceptional case.

Much to her surprise, Hope slept extremely well that night. She felt peaceful and safe, and it was reassuring to know that she had a friend in Dublin. Everything Robert had said had made her feel less isolated, and she called his office before she left the hotel and left a message, thanking him for dinner. She was careful to leave the hotel by nine A.M. for the car rental place. She wanted to be heading for Russborough by nine-thirty. When she flew in, they normally got to the house by eleven, and she was planning to tell Finn that she had arrived on the morning flight to surprise him. She had sent him a loving text message the night before, and he hadn’t responded. She hoped he was writing. And she had no intention of telling him that she had spent the night at a hotel in Dublin. That would make him suspicious and inevitably jealous. She looked neat and rested as she drove toward Blessington, and then Russborough, and as though perfectly timed, she arrived at Blaxton House at ten to eleven. There was no one outside, and it was a wintry December day, with a light veil of snow on the ground.

She left her suitcase in the car, bounded up the front steps, and saw Winfred as soon as she walked into the house. He touched his brow in a gesture of respect, smiled broadly, and went out to get her bag, while she rushed up the steps to their bedroom. Suddenly, she was excited to see Finn. It was as though all the terrible things people had said had disappeared. They couldn’t be true about Finn. She loved him too much for any of that to be true about him. It was all a mistake. It had to be.

She tiptoed to their room and opened the door. It was dark, he was asleep in bed, and there was an empty scotch bottle on the floor beside him, which explained why he hadn’t responded to her text message the night before. He had obviously been drunk.

She slipped onto the bed next to him, looked at his handsome face for a long moment, loving him all over again, and gently kissed him. She was under his spell again the moment she saw him. He didn’t stir until she kissed him once more, and then he opened an eye, saw her, and gave a start, and then he beamed at her and pulled her into his arms. He reeked of scotch, but she didn’t care as he kissed her. He smelled like an open bar, which worried her for him, but she didn’t say anything about it. She wondered how the writing was going, and how close he was to delivering at least one of the two manuscripts he owed them. They were going to uphold the lawsuit if he didn’t, and she didn’t want that to happen to him.

“Where did you come from?” he asked with a slow, sleepy smile, stretched, and then turned over.

“I came home to see you,” she said tenderly as he put his arms around her and pulled her closer, and as he did, all the good advice she’d been given was forgotten, as Robert Bartlett knew it would be. But he also knew she’d have it in her head when she needed it, at the right time.

“Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come to pick you up,” he said as he pulled her into bed with him, took her clothes off, and she didn’t fight him.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said sweetly, and he forgot about what she was saying. He had a much better surprise for her, but it was no surprise. Their sex life had been fantastic from the first, which was part of the excitement of being with him. It was irresistible, even if she knew better than to fall for his seductive charms again. He was hard to resist. And minutes later they were making wild, passionate, insatiable love, as though the world was about to come to an end, and for a moment it always felt as though it might.

It was afternoon when they got up, bathed, dressed, and he looked at her. He was being so sweet to her again. It was hard to believe that he could ever tell a lie, hurt anyone, or make anyone unhappy, even her.

“I missed you so much,” he said, and she could see that he meant it. He really did. She had found five empty scotch bottles under the bed. He had drowned his sorrows while she was gone, or his fears. He was like a child sometimes.

“I missed you too,” she said gently. And then they went downstairs together and went for a walk before dark. It was snowing lightly, and looked beautiful. They were going to spend Christmas there alone. Michael was going skiing in Aspen with friends. And Hope had no one now. Only Finn.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that with Paul. It must have been rough.” He looked sympathetic and she nodded, as they held hands and walked. She tried not to think about it, or it would have panicked her that Paul was gone. And then he asked her a question that startled her in its bluntness. He wasn’t usually that crude. “What’s happening with the estate?”

“What do you mean?” She looked at him, shocked.

“You know… what happens now?… do they just give you the money, or do you have to wait until they sell stock or something?”

“That’s a strange question. What difference does it make? It takes a while to probate the estate. Months, a year. I don’t know. I don’t care.” And she didn’t know why he would. They weren’t dependent on Paul’s money. Hope had enough, from what he had given her before. More than enough, as Finn knew only too well, since she had told him. “I just miss him,” she said sadly, changing the subject. His interest in her money, and now Paul’s, unnerved her and brought reality home to her again.

“I know you do,” Finn said sympathetically, and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “You’re all alone now,” he said, although he didn’t need to rub it in. She was well aware of it herself, too much so. “All you have is me.” She nodded and said nothing and wondered where he was going with what he was saying. “We have each other. That’s all we have.” She thought of his old fusion theory. He hadn’t mentioned it in a while.

“You have Michael,” she reminded him. And the next thing he said hit her like a punch in the solar plexus, and he was a big man and packed a powerful punch.

“And Mimi’s gone,” he said softly, as Hope tried to catch her breath and steady herself from the blow. It was his stock-in-trade now, putting her off balance and making her unstable, hurting her when she least expected it, in all the ways that hurt most. “That just leaves me,” he repeated for emphasis. Hope didn’t answer, and they walked along in the falling snow. But he had hit his mark. She felt even sadder than she had before, and then they went back to the house. He had been reminding her that she was dependent on him now, and without him she was alone. It was a shot across her bow. And she suddenly found herself thinking of Robert and his many warnings. They had agreed that he wouldn’t call her, so Finn didn’t get angry or upset. But if she needed Robert, she knew where to reach him. She had all his numbers in her purse.

She and Finn cooked dinner together that night, and he went upstairs to work while she got things ready, and he was wearing an odd expression when he came back downstairs to the kitchen in the basement. They still needed to restore that. It was functional, but grim. Most of the time they used the pantry on the main floor, but not that night.

Just as they sat down at the kitchen table where the servants used to eat, Finn turned to her with a glint in his eyes, and she wondered if he’d had a drink after their walk, or maybe even before. He was drinking way too much these days. He never used to, but he did now. She wondered if the pending lawsuit was causing him to drink.

“Where were you last night?” he asked her innocently.

“On the plane. Why?” She could feel her heart race, and looked blank as she served him pasta from a large bowl.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking her in the eye.

“Of course I am. Don’t be silly. Where else would I have been? I got here this morning.” She dug a fork into her pasta, and he slammed her passport and a notepad onto the table next to her plate.

“Tell me about it. You stayed at a hotel in Dublin. I found this notepad in your purse when I was looking for something. I called them. And you were there last night. Your passport says you arrived in Ireland yesterday. Not today.” And then he produced the piece of paper with Robert’s numbers. She had written down only “Robert,” no last name. Finn was an excellent detective. And Hope felt like she was going to have a heart attack. It was hard to explain. She had taken the notepad off the desk at the hotel without thinking. And Finn had found it. It never occurred to her to ask what he was looking for in her purse, she was too scared. Her night in Dublin was going to be hard to explain.

She had no choice but to be honest with him. She always had been until now. It was the first time she had ever lied to him, about her arrival, or anything else. “You’re right. I arrived yesterday. I wanted a night to myself in Dublin. And I met with an attorney from my New York law firm. They thought I should see a lawyer here, about taxes, residency issues, this house. I met him, stayed at the hotel, and drove here this morning. End of story. I’m sorry that I lied.” She looked remorseful, and she was not going to tell him about dinner with Robert, or Finn might go into a jealous rage, and there was no way he would believe it was innocent. He never did. In spite of herself, Hope looked frightened and was shaking.

“And Robert?”

“He’s the attorney.”

“He gave you his home and cell numbers? You fucked him at the hotel, didn’t you, you little slut. And who were you fucking in New York? Your agent? Or some guy you picked up at a bar? A trucker on Tenth Avenue maybe while you took his picture.” He knew she went to places like that to take photographs, and he used it against her now. “Did you take pictures of his cock?” He spat the words in her face, and Hope started to cry. He had never talked to her like that before, or been as crude. He was starting to cross boundaries he never had. Robert had warned her that he would, and she didn’t believe him. “What about Robert? Was he good? Not as good as I am, I’ll bet.” Hope didn’t comment. She just sat there at the table looking paralyzed and ashamed. He made her feel like a tramp, and she had done nothing wrong. She had seen a lawyer and had dinner, and would never have considered doing anything more. It didn’t cross her mind. That wasn’t who she was. But he accused her of it, with venom in his eyes and poison in his mouth.

“Nothing happened, Finn. I met with a lawyer, that’s all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because sometimes my business is private.” And even if it had been business, he would have insisted on coming with her. He never let her do anything alone. It was all about control. He even wanted to go to the doctor with her, as he had to the fertility doctor in London. He was intrusive, and wanted to be in full control of her at all times.

“How private was it?” he asked, looking at her, and this time she was sure he’d been drinking. If not, he was insane. And maybe he was that too. He looked like a crazy person as he glared at her, knocked his chair back until it fell, and paced around the kitchen, while she watched him, trying not to anger him further. She sat very still, praying that he’d back down.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything like that,” she said, trying to sound calmer than she felt.

“I don’t know shit about you, Hope. And you know even less about me.” It was probably the most honest thing he had ever said to her about himself, but the way he said it wasn’t reassuring. “For all I know, you’re a whore who blows every guy you meet whenever I’m not around.” If Hope had dreamed of finding the old Finn when she got there, she had encountered the new Finn instead, an even newer one, who was worse. The real one.

“Why don’t we calm down and eat dinner. Nothing happened in Dublin. I spent the night in a hotel alone. That’s all.” She sat straight in her chair, looking dignified and small, and before she knew what had happened, he grabbed her out of her chair, and slammed her up against the wall. She nearly flew across the room in his grip, and let out a gasp as she hit the wall with her back, and he lowered his face next to hers.

“If you ever fuck anyone, Hope, I’ll kill you. Do you understand that? Is that clear to you? I won’t put up with that from you. Get that through your head right now.” She nodded, unable to speak, while tears choked her throat. She could hear a grinding in her ears from when he’d slammed her against the wall, and she was sure it was the sound of her heart breaking. “Answer me! Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She was sure that he was drunk. He wouldn’t behave that way if he weren’t. But if so, they had to do something about it. Or he did. He was under a lot of stress over the lawsuit and the books he had to write. It was obviously driving him over the edge, and now her with it.

He slammed her back into her seat then, and glared at her while she pecked at her dinner. The look in his eyes was not one she recognized. She had never seen him that way before, and it occurred to her as she moved the pasta around her plate and pretended to eat it that she was alone in the house with him. Winfred and Katherine went home at dinnertime, and she was alone with Finn every night until morning. It had never worried her before, but it did now for the first time.

There were no more outbursts during dinner. He didn’t say a word to her. He took the piece of paper with Robert’s numbers on it, shredded it, and then shoved the pieces into the pocket of his jeans so she couldn’t find them. He left the pad and passport on the table. And then without a word, he left the room, and left her to clean up. She sat for a long time at the table, with tears streaming down her cheeks and choking on sobs. And he had made the point earlier. She was alone in the world now. All she had was him. She had nowhere to turn, and no one to love her. With Paul gone, she felt like an orphan in a fairy tale, and the handsome prince was turning into a wild beast.

It took her an hour to calm down and clean up the kitchen. She spent most of it crying, and was afraid to go upstairs, but she knew she had to. And when she thought about it calmly, she realized that the fact that she’d spent the night in Dublin didn’t look good. The piece of paper with Robert’s numbers on it looked suspicious. She could see why he was upset, since she had lied to him about it when she’d arrived. She realized that she should have told him the truth about when she was coming, but if she had, she would never have been able to meet with Robert and she was glad she had. It had been helpful and good to know that she could turn to someone somewhere, if she needed to, to help her. And he was at least nearby. But she could also understand that Finn was upset that she had disappeared for a day and lied to him about her arrival. Although it had been innocent, she felt guilty about it, and in some way didn’t blame him.

She dreaded going upstairs to see him, and was surprised to find when she did, that he was sitting in bed waiting for her. He looked peaceful and as though the scene in the kitchen hadn’t happened. Seeing him go from one mood to the extreme opposite like that was terrifying. One moment brimming with rage like a dragon, the next calmly in bed, smiling at her. She wasn’t sure if he was crazy or she was, and she stood looking at him for a moment, with absolutely no idea what to say.

“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.