Edition: U.S. / Global

'A Winter Marriage'

Published: December 22, 2002
(Page 3 of 3)

"What sort of books?" "Travel. The Gentleman Adventurer. More Thesiger than Fleming, but slightly later and not so well connected. Quite obviously incredibly brave, only never ever written like that.Touching, really." She paused, her eyes on a woman who seemed anxious to shepherd them toward the lunch tables.

"Of course, they're hopelessly out-of-fashion and out-of-print and cluttering-up-the-secondhand-bookshelves. I shouldn't think Ned Renvyle's royalty checks are exactly keeping the mice from his door." "Where is his door?"

"Oh, Ireland somewhere." Jessica spoke in a neutral voice. "Old family. You know the sort of thing. Nettles and decay."

HANNIE DIDN'T, and it didn't sound very promising. Still, she wasn't exactly being bombarded with opportunities; she might follow it up for want of anything better.

She scanned the tables, found her name on a bit of card and picked up the one from the place setting next to it.Three tables up, she found Ned Renvyle's name card. People were beginning to take their seats but she ignored them, leaned over and changed his card for the one in her hand. She went back to her table, sat down, and put Ned's card on the setting beside her.

JESSICA WAS RIGHT, Ned Renvyle lived in Ireland. Hannie had listened for an estate but heard only a house, a farm. A family farm?

No, not a family farm but the next best thing.A farm near the places and people he'd known in his childhood. He'd bought it when he left off roaming around the place and came home.

Home? He was an Irishman? His family had lived there for generations, he said, not answering her question. But he wasn't a farmer?

He was now. Before that, he told her, he'd mostly traveled, written the odd book, given lectures, that sort of thing. There'd been some rooms in London where he'd lived when he wasn't away. Now he farmed a few acres. Nothing much, but it kept him occupied. He lived alone. Been married once, his wife had died. He was over for this wedding. And to see his publisher, visit friends.

THEY WERE SNARLED in a long line of traffic with no visible reason for the holdup. Hannie sat in the back of the car, staring absently out of the window while Tom and Beth bickered about Beth's choice of route. Ireland. She hadn't thought of Ireland, had never been there. It might be the answer. He was on the lookout, she knew that, just from the things he'd said this afternoon.And he'd taken to her, she knew that too.

She'd have to find things out, she decided: how much land, if there was money to go with it, if there were any commitments. You couldn't rely on family anymore,Andrew had said. Or schools. A chap could sound right and have nothing.These days, there was more likely to be money if he sounded wrong.

Ned Renvyle would definitely have sounded right in Andrew's book. Hannie didn't care what a chap sounded like as long as he wasn't flat broke.

She could probably hook him if she played him right, she thought, and he might be the start she needed. She could always leave him if she couldn't stand him, but he must be pushing seventy, he couldn't live forever, she might just stick it out until he died.With a bit of luck he'd leave her somewhere to live or enough to live on.With a lot of luck he'd leave her both.

If he turned out to have anything at all. But she'd have to let him do the next bit. She wondered how fast he would move if he made up his mind to it. She wondered how fast she could move in her turn. If he did as he'd told her he planned to do and went up to London, she'd have to follow him, invite herself on someone. She couldn't afford a hotel, couldn't put all her eggs in one basket at this stage when nothing might come of it.

But he might not go to London, he might stay on. And if he did, she'd stay on too. She'd tell Beth the truth, or a version of it, ask for her help. Beth would understand. Not like that blond bitch at the wedding with her career and her salary and her future.

She would explain about the separation, which she hadn't so far mentioned. She would tell Beth there'd be no money coming, even after the will was settled, Andrew's children would inherit; she was broke and needed to marry again.


Excerpted from A Winter Marriage by Kerry Hardie Copyright &copy 2002 by Kerry Hardie
