“Good lord,” Finn said, smiling at her. “I didn’t expect you to restore my house yourself.” He was touched by what she was doing. She was a hard worker and she had a good eye. She made him take her into Blessington to find a restorer, which she did, and she made an appointment for him to come out the next day. He took away all the pieces Finn agreed needed to be worked on, and the following day, she had him drive her to Dublin, where she bought miles and miles of fabric, for upholstery, and some for the bedrooms in pastel satins. She made sure that Finn liked all the colors, and she paid for it herself as a gift to him.

And for the next many days, she worked with Winfred and Katherine to clean all the rooms, and get rid of all the dust and cobwebs. She left some of the shredded curtains hanging, and those that were beyond salvation she threw away. The windows looked better with no covering than with the remains of the old ones hanging there. The house already looked cleaner and more cheerful, and she pulled back the deep green velvet curtains in the gallery, so the house didn’t look so dark as one walked in. The place was looking better every day. And Hope said she was having a ball.

“Come on,” Finn said one afternoon, “let’s get out of here. I want to show you around.” He took her to see the other great houses, and she assured him that none were more beautiful than his. Blaxton House looked the most like Russborough House. And her goal now was to help him get his place into shape. It was too big a job for him alone, and she sensed that money was somewhat tight for him, so she tried to do everything on a budget, and paid for things whenever she could, without offending him. Finn was deeply appreciative of all she did. He was well aware that it was a labor of love she was doing for him. And the results were already starting to show.

Whenever he had work to do, she spent time on her waxing and polishing project, and room by room, the woodwork was starting to shine. The broken furniture was out being restored. A local upholsterer had taken the pieces to be re-covered, and upstairs she had found treasures under the holland covers. The master bedroom once uncovered was a marvel of exquisite furniture and beautiful frescoes on the walls. She said it looked like Versailles.

“You are amazing,” Finn said in admiration. And when she wasn’t waxing, polishing, and pushing furniture around, she was taking photographs of the locals, or digging through antique shops, looking for treasures for his house. She even helped Katherine polish the silver on a rainy afternoon, and that night, they had dinner in the formal dining room, at one end of the enormous table, instead of on trays upstairs. She was wearing jeans and an old sweater of Finn’s, which made her look like a little girl. The house was still fairly cold. “I feel like one of those cartoons in The New Yorker,” Finn said, laughing, as Winfred served them dinner in the gigantic room. The kitchen was in the basement, and was a relic, but everything in it worked, and Hope had wrought her magic there too. By the time she had been there for two weeks, his house looked as though she had worked on it for months, and it was much improved.

After dinner, she was taking photos of the frescoes on the ceiling in the main living room as Finn walked in and smiled to see her there. She made his heart sing every time he gazed at her.

“How hard do you think it would be for us to paint these rooms ourselves?” she asked, looking vague, as he put his arms around her and kissed her.

“You’re insane, but I love you. How did I ever survive before we met? My house was filthy, my life was a mess, and I didn’t know what I was missing. Now I know. I don’t think I’m going to let you go back to the States.” He looked serious as he said it, and she laughed. They were both enjoying working on his house, and it was looking great. She could see why he loved it, and she was enjoying polishing it up for him.

“Why don’t we have some of your neighbors in for dinner sometime?” she suggested. “There must be some interesting people here, living in all those big houses. Do you know a lot of them?” she asked with interest. It would be exciting to fill the table in the dining room with lively people, and she wanted to meet some of the locals.

“I don’t know any of them,” Finn said. “I’m always working when I’m here. I never make time to go out. I do most of my socializing in London.”

“It would be nice to invite people over, maybe when the furniture comes back,” she said pensively.

“I’d rather be alone with you,” he said honestly. “You’re only here for a short time, and I don’t want to share you with anyone. It’s much more romantic on our own,” he said firmly. He clearly wanted her to himself, but Hope wanted to meet people and show off the house.

“We can do both,” she said sensibly. “We can meet people, and spend time alone.” It seemed odd to her that he had lived there for two years and didn’t know anyone.

“Maybe next time,” he said vaguely, and as he said it, her cell phone rang and she answered it. It was Paul. And she walked into a little alcove off the living room and sat down to talk. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. He was still sailing, and said he was fine. She told him she was visiting a friend in Ireland at a fabulous old house. She noticed that he sounded tired, but didn’t press the point, and after a few minutes she got off, as Finn walked into the room. “Who was that?” he asked, looking worried. Hope smiled as he sat down next to her.

“It was Paul. I told him all about your house.”

“That’s nice. Is he still in love with you?” Hope shook her head. “He’s too sick to think of anyone but himself. He divorced me, remember? He’s just a very special friend now. He’s my family. We were married for a long time.” Finn nodded and didn’t pursue the subject, and he looked relieved by what she had said.

They went for a walk in the hills then, and Hope brought back two baskets full of wildflowers, and put them in vases when they got back. Finn looked at her with a happy smile, and that night he talked again about their having a baby, although he had promised not to for a while. He said he loved her so much, he just couldn’t resist. He insisted he wanted a child with her, and she reminded him that it was too soon. She didn’t say it to him, but she didn’t want to have a baby unless they were married, and that wasn’t a certainty yet, although it was looking more and more likely.

“I want a little girl who looks just like you,” Finn said wistfully, as he held her after they made love. “I want our baby, Hope,” he pleaded with her.

“I know,” she said sleepily, “me too… but it’s not a sure thing at my age anyway.”

“It is nowadays. We can get a little high-tech help. The Brits are pretty good at that.” He was very persistent about wanting to get her pregnant, but for the moment they were still using protection, so it wasn’t likely to happen. It really seemed too soon to her. That was a major decision she wasn’t ready to undertake yet. It was one thing helping him fix up his house, another having a child.

“We’ll see,” she said, as she cuddled into his arms and nestled up against him, smiling happily, thinking that these were the best days in her life, or surely in a very, very long time.

On her third week in Ireland, Finn surprised her by suggesting they go to Paris for the weekend. She hadn’t thought of traveling in Europe while she was there, but she loved the idea. He made reservations at the Ritz for them, which was her favorite hotel, and that weekend they flew to Paris. They were going to London on the way back, which was perfect for her, since she wanted to meet with the photography curator at the Tate Modern, and called the day before they left to make an appointment. He was delighted at the prospect of meeting her.

Their time in Paris was everything they had hoped. The room at the Ritz was small but elegant, they walked miles all over Paris, and ate in wonderful old bistros on the Left Bank. They went to Nôtre Dame and Sacré Coeur, and poked around antiques shops, looking for things to take back to Blaxton House. The time they shared was magical, just as it had been so far everywhere else. But Paris seemed even more romantic and particularly special. The city was meant for that.

“I’ve never been so spoiled in my life.” She tried to pay for some of their dinners, but Finn wouldn’t let her. He had old-fashioned ideas about it, although he had let her pay for a few things for the house. She wished he would let her do more. His books did well, she knew, but he had a son to support and pay tuition for. He was putting Michael through college, and even without income taxes in Ireland, a house the size of Blaxton House was a major challenge to maintain and support. And life was expensive everywhere. She had so much money from Paul that she felt guilty not helping Finn more. She tried to explain it to him one day over lunch.

“I know it’s embarrassing to have me pitch in,” she said gently, “but I got this crazy huge settlement from Paul when we divorced. He had just sold his company, and with Mimi gone, neither of us has anything to do with our money. He spends most of his time on the boat. And I have hardly any expenses. Honestly, I wish you’d let me pay for things once in a while.”

“That’s not my style,” Finn said firmly, and then wondered about something. “With Mimi gone, who are you going to leave your money to one day?” It was an odd question, but nothing was out of bounds between them. They had talked about everything, and she had thought of it herself. She had no living relatives except Paul, and he was sixteen years older than she was, and very sick. It was unlikely that he would outlive her, a thought that made her very sad. And all the money she had came from him. He had given her a staggering settlement in the divorce, over her protests, but he had insisted that he wanted her set for life, and whatever was left when he died, was coming to her too.

“I don’t know,” Hope said honestly, thinking about the money she would leave behind at the end of her life. “Dartmouth maybe, in honor of my father and Mimi. Or Harvard. I don’t have anyone to leave it to. It’s kind of an odd situation. I give away a fair amount every year now, to various philanthropic causes I care about. I set up a scholarship in Mimi’s name at Dartmouth, because she went to school there, and another one at the New York City Ballet.”

“Maybe you should fund things that you enjoy.”

“I know. It’s kind of taken me the last two years to get used to having all this money. I don’t need it. I told Paul that when we got divorced. I lead a simple life.” And her parents had left her enough to take care of the house on Cape Cod. “Sometimes I feel guilty having it,” she said honestly. “It seems kind of a waste.” He nodded, laughed, and said he wished he had her problem.

“I keep wanting to put money aside to restore the house, but it’s hard with a kid in college and houses all over the place. Or two anyway. One of these days I’ll really clean the place up.” She was dying to help him do it, but it was too soon for that too. They had been together for two months, which in the real world wasn’t a long time. Maybe in a few months, if all went well, he would let her help financially with restoring the house. She really wanted to do it.

After that, they walked in the Tuileries, went to the Louvre, and walked back to the Ritz for their last night. It had been a heavenly weekend, just like everything else they did together. They ordered room service and spent the night in bed, indulging in the luxury of the hotel. And in the morning, they took the train to London, and were back at his tiny house at noon. It warmed her heart to see it, and think of the shoot they had done there. As she had suspected at the time, they had gotten several wonderful photos out of it, and Finn had chosen one he loved for the book, when it was ready for publication. She had framed several others for him, and for herself.

She had her appointment at the Tate Modern Museum that afternoon, and Hope was startled to discover that Finn was annoyed about it, which didn’t make sense to her.

“What’s up?” she asked him, as they shared one of his terrific omelettes in his kitchen. “Are you mad about something?” He was visibly pouting at her over lunch.

“No, I just don’t know why you have to meet a curator today.”

“Because they want to give me a retrospective show next year,” she explained quietly. “That’s a big deal, Finn.”

“Can I come with you?” he asked, looking hopeful, and she looked apologetic, but shook her head.

“It wouldn’t look serious, if I brought someone along.”

“Tell them I’m your assistant.” He was still pouting.