“We? I’m not telling them. You are.” She laughed.

I smiled and said, “I will ask your father for your hand in marriage, as I did the last time.”

“That’s very nice. And don’t forget to tell them that you insisted we not have a prenup.” She suggested, “Bring a video camera. I want to see their reaction.”

Clearly, Susan was at some point in her life and her emotional development that was causing a belated rebellion against parental authority. This was a few decades late, but I could see that the rebellion was complete in her mind; all she had to do now was follow through.

I thought, too, of her marrying her father’s older friend, Dan Hannon, and it didn’t take too much analysis to figure out that that was an arranged marriage, and she’d gone through with it to please Daddy. Now she was going to show Daddy a thing or two. I had no doubt she loved me, and that she’d give up her parents and their money for me, but this was also a little bit of payback for Dad.

Susan had some good news for me. “I don’t want to sound cold, but they don’t have many years left.”

I let that alone and raised a related topic. I said to her, “I’m also wondering if our remarriage will affect the children’s trusts or their inheritance.”

Susan seemed surprised and replied without enough thought, “They would never do that to their grandchildren.”

I didn’t respond, and I wanted to believe that, but I knew the Stanhopes well enough to answer my own question; William, at least, was so vindictive that if he had a family crest, it would say, “I will cut off my nose to spite my face,” and emblazoned on the crest would be the profile of a man without a nose.

Susan reminded me, “The children’s money is in trust.”

I didn’t want to upset her, so I said, “That’s true.” But I’d seen the trust documents, and without getting into legalities, I knew that what Grandpa giveth, Grandpa could taketh away. In addition, her useless brother, Peter, was the trust administrator, and William, through Peter, could manipulate the trusts, and basically stop the monthly payments to the children, plus, he’d make sure that Edward and Carolyn didn’t see a nickel of the principle until they were fifty. And of course, he could disinherit his grandchildren anytime.

I really felt duty-bound to tell her all this because even if she was prepared to give up her inheritance and allowance, she wasn’t prepared to do that to Edward and Carolyn. If it came down to that, then maybe John Sutter would have to go. And I would understand that.

In the meantime, I’d hope that William loved his grandchildren enough that he would not punish them because of the sins of his daughter, so I said, “All right, but you do understand that you, Susan, may lose your allowance, and you could be disinherited from an estate worth millions of dollars?”

“Yes, John, I understand that.”

I asked, not altogether jokingly, “And you still want to marry me?”

She replied, “Not anymore. You cost too much.”

I assumed she was being funny, so I said, “Be serious.”

“I can’t believe you would ask me that question.”

“I apologize.”

“But wait… tell me again what’s in this for me?”

“Just me.”

“That’s it? Prince Charming with no job and no money?”

“I have a law degree.”

“Can I see it?”

We both smiled, sat back, and sipped our drinks. Okay, if that had gone any differently, I’d have been surprised. Susan Stanhope Sutter was in love and wanted me back, and whatever Susan wants, Susan gets. I was in love, too, and had never stopped loving her, so this should work, theoretically.

Susan crossed her legs, stared out the window, and said as if to herself, “Love conquers all.”

“Right.” As Virgil said it, omnia vincit amor, which reminded me of my next subject, if I needed reminding.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

With the Stanhope family issues out of the way, or at least out in the open, I was now ready to discuss with Susan the subject of Anthony Bellarosa, past, present, and future. But Susan wanted to take a stroll to the gatehouse, perhaps to see if there were panties on the floor, so we walked down the long drive from the guest cottage to my temporary quarters.

When I had walked up this drive, six hours earlier, my life was in limbo, and my future plans were uncertain; now… well, now I was engaged to be married.

Susan said to me, “When I grew up here, I never would have imagined that this estate would be sold and divided, surrounded by subdivisions, and I’d be living alone in the guest cottage.” She added to that, “I never really forgave my father for putting the estate up for sale.”

William didn’t really need to sell Stanhope Hall, but the upkeep and taxes cost more than I made in a year and more than he wanted to spend to preserve the family estate for his heirs and their progeny. He couldn’t take it with him, but he hated spending it before he left. So he moved to Hilton Head and eventually found a buyer in the person of Mr. Frank Bellarosa, whom I’m certain was influenced in his decision to own a second estate by the lady walking beside me.

Now Stanhope Hall – minus Susan’s ten-acre enclave and the developed back sixty acres where Susan used to ride – was in the hands of Mr. Amir Nasim, a man who was not in the Social Register, but who might be on the mullah’s hit list. And Alhambra was subdivided, and its former owner, Frank Bellarosa, was dead. A lot of these changes, if you thought about it, were a result of the actions of Susan Stanhope Sutter, who didn’t like change.

In any case, we need to live in the world as it is, not as it was. But first, we all needed to tidy up the past a bit.

Susan, however, was momentarily in the present, and she asked me, “Am I going to find something in the gatehouse that I don’t want to see?”

“Well… did I tell you that I wear silk bikini shorts?”

“Very funny.” She picked up the pace and said, “I’ll bet you never thought you’d be walking me to the gatehouse when you called on me this morning.”

“No, I didn’t.” But the house held no incriminating evidence – only exculpatory evidence – and more importantly, I had a clear conscience.

We reached the gatehouse, and Susan said to me, “You have no idea how upset I was when I saw Elizabeth Allard’s car here all day and all night.”

I thought, by now, I did have some idea, but I said, “Not everything is as it seems.”

“We’re about to find out.”

She preceded me into the gatehouse, and in the foyer she saw the Allards’ personal property that Elizabeth and I had stacked there. Susan commented, “I see you did something other than drink.”

“There was a lot of work to do here.”

“What did you do for dinner?”

“Cheese and crackers.”

She moved into the sitting room and saw my pillow and blanket on the couch, which I was happy I’d left there. But Susan didn’t comment on this evidence that I’d slept alone, so I did. “See?”

She ignored me and looked around the room, then asked, “Does Elizabeth want this old stuff?”

“I don’t know, but I inventoried everything, and she signed for it.”

We moved into the dining room, where the table and floor were still stacked with storage and file boxes. She asked, “What is all this?”

I replied, “Mostly the contents of my law office and my former home office, which I stored here when I left.”

“You can have your old home office back.”

“That is very generous of you.”

“What were you going to do with all this?”

I was going to store it in Elizabeth Allard’s house, but I replied, “Public storage.” I added, “But you’ve solved my storage problem.” I further added, “And my housing problem. And all my other problems.”

She agreed, “I have.” She advised me, “After you resign from your job, you’ll need to get rid of your London flat.”