Forbidden Surrender (8 page)

‘How?’ she scorned.

‘By loving your mother all these years.’

Sara gasped. ‘But he said—–’

‘Yes?’ Dominic quirked one eyebrow. ‘Your father never at any time this afternoon said he didn’t love your mother. They had a momentary setback because like a lot of young people they wonder how they’re going to manage to live when they start a family. It’s often a time of great strain. Your mother coped with it by involving herself in plans for the birth of her baby, your father coped with it—–’

‘By having an affair!’

‘By being with a woman who maybe listened to his anxieties—–’

‘Among other things!’

Dominic sighed. ‘I accept that it wasn’t a very sensible thing to do, but then human beings aren’t infallible. When it was too late to save the marriage or revive your mother’s love for him, he realised how much he really loved her. And he’s continued to love her. Finding out she’s dead hit him very badly.’

Sara turned away, wishing she could feel compassion for her father, but still feeling only resentment. ‘How do you know all this?’ she finally asked him. ‘About him still loving my mother.’

He shrugged. ‘Michael’s never made any secret of it. Maybe now that she really is dead … Well, maybe now he’ll start to forget. And forgive.’

‘My mother—–’

‘Not your mother, Sara,’ he interrupted patiently. ‘Himself.’

‘Himself …?’

‘It can’t have been easy living with himself all this time. Maybe you should try to forgive too.’

‘And maybe you should mind your own damned business,’ she snapped. ‘You may be going to marry my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have any say in how
I
live my life.’

His expression was harsh. ‘You can live your life any damn way you please, but when it involves Marie then I
have a say in it. She’s very fond of you already, and I—I like her to have things that make her happy.
You
make her happy.’

Sara knew that they were engaged, but she hadn’t figured on Dominic being that besotted with Marie. He didn’t seem the sort of man who would ever allow his emotions to rule his head. He must love Marie very much. And somehow Sara didn’t like that idea.

She brought her thoughts up with a start. Somewhere along the line, probably when she had appealed to him for his support, she had become more than a little attracted to Dominic Thorne. Now wouldn’t that be ironic, twins in love with the same man! She certainly couldn’t allow that to happen.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked sharply, already too confused to delve into what she now felt towards Dominic Thorne. If she felt anything at all!

He shrugged. ‘I was just driving around. Until you calmed down.’

‘I’m calm now. And I’d like to go home.’

He turned the car in the direction of her home. ‘Michael’s going to want to see you again—you know that, don’t you?’

Her mouth set stubbornly. ‘Then he can wait—for ever.’

‘Sara—–’

‘I’m grateful for your support, Mr Thorne, but that’s all I am. I won’t be seeing Michael Lindlay again.’

‘And Marie?’ he asked hardly.

She swallowed hard. ‘Marie is—well, that’s different. I—I said I would call her, and I will.’

‘Thank you,’ he said softly.

Her aunt was out when Sara let herself into the house, so she was able to collect her thoughts together in private. She hadn’t asked Dominic in, and he didn’t seem to mind her abrupt departure.

She wasn’t an orphan after all! She had a father and a sister, a sister she already loved. It would be impossible
not to love someone who looked so much like her, and her affection seemed to be returned.

‘You’re looking pale, love,’ her aunt told her when she returned from the shops loaded down with groceries.

Sara helped her put the food away. She had thought long and hard about mentioning her meeting with her father and Marie to her aunt, and she still didn’t know what to do about it. Obviously her aunt and uncle must have known about Marie and herself, which also now explained away her aunt’s flustered behaviour when she had broken the cup. It hadn’t been the smashed cup that had upset her at all, it had been the mention of Marie’s name.

‘Sara?’ Her aunt was frowning at her now.

She blinked, biting her bottom lip. She hadn’t made her mind up what to do about her father, and to talk it over with her aunt was not something she felt like doing at the moment. No matter how kind her aunt and uncle had been to her during this visit, they had also helped to deceive her about the past.

‘I—er—I have a headache,’ she made up.

‘Now that’s a shame, I think Eddie wanted to take you out tonight.’ Her aunt seemed satisfied with her explanation. ‘He said he wanted to see you before you leave.’

‘But I’m not going for several more days.’

‘You know Eddie,’ her aunt teased. ‘He’s become very fond of you.’

And Sara was fond of him too, in a brotherly sort of way, which was why she accepted his invitation. He took her to the pub they had visited on their first evening together, cheering her up in a way that no one else could have done.

‘That’s better,’ he smiled as she laughed at one of his jokes. ‘I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get a smile out of you tonight!’

‘Sorry,’ she said ruefully, realising that this couldn’t
be a very pleasant evening for him.

‘Aunt Susan said something about a headache when I rang. Do you still have it?’ he asked sympathetically.

They were sitting in one of the booths in the lounge bar, having decided not to join in the darts match this evening. Sara felt relaxed with Eddie, her discovery of earlier today not seeming quite so traumatic now she was with him. But the problem of it had only been pushed to the back of her mind. She knew that tomorrow, or even later today, she would have to think about it once again.

She shook her head in answer to his query. ‘No, it’s gone. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a dampener on the evening.’

‘Upset about leaving, are you?’

‘Oh yes,’ she didn’t hesitate with her answer. ‘England seems like—home.’ Even more so now! Her life in Florida seemed like a dream, and England now seemed like reality. Which was pretty stupid when she had lived in Florida virtually all her life.

‘Are you thinking of staying on?’ Eddie asked interestedly.

She shrugged. ‘I—I don’t think so. I have to go back for a while anyway. But I—I may come back. I’m not sure.’

He put his hand over hers. ‘I’d like you to.’

Alarm flared in her deep brown eyes. ‘Eddie—–’

‘In a purely sisterly sense,’ he grinned at her.

She smiled. ‘Do you always hold your sister’s hand in this way?’

‘I don’t know, I’ve never had a sister.’

She burst out laughing. Eddie always managed to reduce things to normality, making her panic this afternoon seem stupid. She wasn’t the first person to suddenly discover she had a family, after all, and at least she liked Marie. Her feelings towards her father were harder to define. Her mother had brought her up to love his memory, hence the photograph she always
carried with her, and yet when presented with the flesh and blood man, a man still alive, she had recoiled from such a relationship.

And she still recoiled from it! Richard was her father and always would be.

Both her aunt and uncle were still up when Eddie brought her home, so she made coffee for all of them. Eddie seemed to find their determination not to leave them alone very amusing, and finally got up to take his leave.

‘They’re getting worse than parents,’ he joked at the front door.

‘Don’t say that,’ Sara grimaced. ‘I’ve had my fill of parents today.’

‘Really?’

‘Forget I said that, Eddie,’ she advised hastily, realising she was revealing too much. No one must know about Marie and her father until she was ready to accept it herself. ‘I’ve been a bit down the last couple of days. Delayed reaction, I think.’

He gently touched her cheek. ‘Never mind, love. Just remember you have Aunt Susan and Uncle Arthur. And there’s always me.’

‘Thank you.’ She gave a quavery smile. ‘You don’t know how comforting that is. Really!’ she insisted at his sceptical look.

‘Only I could end up with a beautiful girl like you wanting to be my
friend
,’ he said with disgust. ‘Or my sister, which is worse,’ he grimaced. ‘Just my luck!’

Sara reached up and kissed him warmly on the cheek. ‘Thank you for being here.’

Eddie frowned. ‘When you needed me, hmm?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted huskily.

‘ ’Night, love.’ He bent to kiss her on the mouth, grinning at her gasp of surprise. ‘Brotherly privilege.’

‘I’ll bet,’ she laughed.

Her aunt and uncle were still in the lounge when she returned, and she frowned at their grave expressions.
Something was wrong here, very wrong.

‘We had a visitor this evening,’ her aunt told her softly, her gaze searching Sara’s pale features.

‘Oh yes?’ They often had visitors, being a very popular couple, so she knew there had to be something special about this particular visitor or else they wouldn’t have mentioned it.

‘A Mr Dominic Thorne,’ her uncle told her, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

Sara drew an angry breath. ‘He came here!’ she gasped.

Her uncle nodded. ‘He seemed concerned about you, wanted to make sure you were all right.’

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. ‘What did he think I was going to do?’ she rasped. ‘Commit suicide?’

‘Now then, Sara,’ her uncle chided. ‘That isn’t the way to be. Susan and I much appreciated his visit.’

‘He’s told you, hasn’t he?’ she accused angrily. ‘Why couldn’t he mind his own damned business?’ Her American accent was very strong in her fury.

‘He seemed to feel it was his business,’ her aunt put in softly.

Her eyes flashed. ‘He knew it wasn’t—I told him it wasn’t.’

‘Sara—–’

‘He had no right to come here,’ she stormed, overriding her aunt. ‘No right!’ she repeated vehemently. ‘This is my problem—–’

‘It was never just your problem,’ her aunt told her firmly. ‘Both families are involved as well, and Mr Thorne is engaged to your sister.’ She shook her head. ‘I just couldn’t believe it when people started taking you for Marie, not just once but a couple of times. We’d seen photographs of her, of course, the Lindlay family are often in the society columns, but even so we had no idea the similarity was so extreme. Mr Thorne says it’s almost impossible to tell you apart.’

Sara’s mouth twisted. ‘Only almost?’ she taunted. ‘He seems to have trouble knowing the difference.’

‘Really?’ Her aunt gave her a sharp look.

‘Only my fath—only Michael Lindlay,’ she amended quickly, ‘could tell the difference. He knew on sight that I wasn’t Marie.’ She wondered
how
he had known.

‘How is Michael?’ her uncle asked.

‘A bit dazed at the moment,’ she revealed huskily. ‘I’m afraid I walked out on him this afternoon.’

Her aunt nodded. ‘Mr Thorne told us that.’

Sara’s mouth tightened. ‘What else did he tell you?’

Aunt Susan shrugged. ‘Just that you knew about Marie and your father. He thought we should know.’

Dominic Thorne took too much upon himself. She didn’t like having her life taken out of her hands in this way. And if he thought he had got away with it then he was in for a surprise!

She sighed. ‘I’m not going to ask you for reasons, I’m sure you’re as incapable of giving them as Mr Lindlay is.’

‘Probably,’ her aunt nodded. ‘But I can tell you that your mother regretted what happened all her life.’

‘I don’t believe that! She was happy with Richard, they—–’

‘Not that part,’ Aunt Susan interrupted gently. ‘Rachel always regretted taking you away from your sister. I think in the end she would rather have given you up completely than risk the pain you’re going through now.’

‘No!’ Sara cried chokingly. ‘No, she loved me. She—–’

‘Of course she loved you. It was because she loved you, and Marie, that she knew she’d done the wrong thing in separating you. It’s strange, really,’ her voice broke emotionally, ‘but your mother was actually going to tell you about Marie, was going to bring you over here next month on your birthday and introduce the two of you. But fate decided it wouldn’t work out that way.’

Sara frowned. ‘My mother was really going to do that?’

‘Oh yes,’ her aunt nodded. ‘I can show you the letter if you like.’

‘No, no, that won’t be necessary. I—I think I’ll go to bed now.’ She turned blindly out of the room.

‘Sara—–’

‘Leave her, Susan,’ she could hear her uncle’s firm voice. ‘Leave her on her own, she needs time to adjust.’

Time. Everyone seemed to think that with time she would be able to accept this situation. And maybe she would.

She spent a restless night, eating an almost silent breakfast before leaving the house. Her aunt and uncle were still respecting her wish to be left alone, and she felt grateful to them.

The woman behind the desk was the capable middle-aged woman Sara had expected to be Dominic Thorne’s secretary.

‘Miss Lindlay,’ she greeted with a smile. She was a woman of possibly forty-five, her appearance smart, very attractive in a mature sort of way, her ringless hands evidence of her single state. ‘Shall I tell Mr Thorne you’re here?’

Why not? ‘Please do,’ Sara’s voice was distinctly English.

There was a short conversation on the intercom before the secretary told her to go in.

‘Thank you,’ Sara smiled.

The inner office was even more impressive, wood-panelled walls, thickly carpeted floor, drinks cabinet and easy chairs, and most impressive of all, Dominic Thorne seated behind the huge mahogany desk.

He looked up as she entered the room, putting down the gold pen he was working with, his smile welcoming. ‘Mar—–’ his eyes narrowed and he frowned. ‘But it isn’t, is it? Hello, Sara,’ he greeted huskily, standing up.

Her irritation was impossible to hide. ‘How did you know?’ She used her own voice when talking to him.

Dominic shrugged. ‘I’m learning, that’s all.’

‘You mean there is a difference?’

He gave her a considering look, bringing a blush to her cheeks. ‘Yes, there’s a difference.’