‘Such as?’
‘Well, what happens when the baby’s born. What we’re going to do—’
‘I thought we were taking it a day at a time?’
‘And we are.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘But we can’t go on like that for ever, can we?’
He put his glass down. ‘I think we could.’
Her heart started beating frantically. ‘You do?’
‘I can’t see any reason why not.’ He smiled. ‘My sweet Catherine! We’ve discovered that we like one another. That we can live together without wanting to throw things.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Thankfully, you seem to have got all that out of your system!’ He smiled again as she giggled. ‘See! We make each other laugh. We’re compatible sexually—though that was never in any question, was it? That’s not bad to be going along with.’
‘And you think that’s enough?’
He got up and threw a log on the fire, because the May weather had taken a sudden, unseasonable dip. It fizzed like a golden firework in the grate and he turned to look down at her, his face all light and shadows cast by the flicker of the flames.
‘It’s more than a lot of people have,’ he said quietly. ‘But you must decide whether it’s enough for you. Whether you want to go chasing rainbows, or settle for giving this baby the security it deserves. Think about it, Catherine.’
Chasing rainbows. He made the search for love sound so insubstantial. And of course love had been the glaring omission from his list.
‘And fidelity?’ she asked, because that was more tangible than love.
‘I could not tolerate infidelity,’ he said slowly. ‘And I would not expect you to either.’
Which was not quite the same as saying that the situation would never arise, was it? That if someone came along and captured Finn’s heart he wouldn’t be off?
‘It’s up t
o you, Catherine,’ he said. ‘The choice is yours. I’m being honest in what I’m offering you.’
Choice. There it was again, that infernal word he was so fond of using and which she was so wary of. Because choice meant coming to a decision, and there was always the chance that she would make the wrong one.
She could give her baby security—and not just the security of being legitimate and being cared for. The security of having a father around. A father who, she was certain, would love the baby as much as she did, who would be the kind of role-model that any small boy would give his eye-teeth for.
He was not offering her rose-tinted dreams and an impossibly romantic future together, but surely that was just practical. And honest, as he had said.
She considered the alternative. Going back out there as a single mother and consigning herself to a life alone with her baby. Or foolishly hoping that she might meet another man who would capture her heart as Finn had done—knowing, deep down, that no other man would ever come close to holding a candle to him.
If they had been different people, with different upbringings and in different circumstances, then both of them might have gone chasing those elusive rainbows.
But they were not different people. They were Finn and Catherine. And their pasts had made them into the people they were today. The past was powerful, she recognised—it sent far-reaching repercussions down through the ages.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.
Their lovemaking seemed especially close that night, and they held each other very tightly afterwards for what seemed like a long time.
When Catherine went to the door to wave Finn off in the morning, her heart felt as heavy as the sky.
Finn glanced up at the leaden grey clouds and frowned. ‘Feels like snow.’
‘You can’t have snow in May,’ she protested.
‘Who says we can’t? One year we had a frosting in June!’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘No, sweetheart, I’m not.’ He caught her in his arms. ‘You will take care, won’t you?’