Passion's Promise (48 page)

"So where is it you're going back to?" Hilary returned her attention to Kezia, over a well-chilled martini.

"New York."

"At this time of year? Darling, you're mad!" "Maybe so, but I've been away for almost five months."

"Then another month can't possibly hurt" "I'm going back to do some work." "Work? What sort of work? Charity? But no one's in town in the summer for heaven's sake. Besides, you don't work, do you?" For a moment Hilary looked slightly confused. Kezia nodded. "Yes, I do. Writing."

"Writing? What on earth for?" She was quite bemused, and Kezia was trying hard not to laugh. Poor Auat Hil.

"I guess I write because I enjoy it Very much, as a matter of fact."

"Is this something new?" "No, not really."

"Can you write? Decently, I mean." But this time Kezia couldn't help it; she laughed.

"I don't know. I certainly try to. I used to write the Martin Hallam column. But that wasn't my best work." Kezia wore a mischievous grin. Hilary gaped.

"You what? Don't be insane! You . . . Good God, Kezia, how could you!"

"It amused me. And when I had enough of it, I retired. And don't look so upset, I never said anything mean about you."

"No, but you ... I ... Kezia, you really amaze me." She relieved the butler of another martini and stared at her niece. The girl was really quite strange. Always had been, and now this. "In any case, I think you're a fool to go back in August." Hilary had not yet recovered. "And that column doesn't run anymore." Kezia giggled; it was as though Hilary were trying to trap her into admitting that she hadn't actually written it But that was wishful thinking.

"I know, but I'm going back to discuss the terms on a book."

"A book based on gossip?" Hilary blanched.

"Of course not It's sort of a political theme. If s really too long to go into."

"I see. Well, I'd be thrilled if you wanted to stay ... as long as you promise not to write naughty things about all my guests." She tittered sweetly, as it occurred to her that this might make for some very amusing gossip of her own. "Did you know my niece used to be Martin Hallam, dear?"

"Don't worry, Aunt Hil, I don't write that kind of thing anymore."

"What a pity." Her third martini had softened the blow. Kezia watched her as she accepted her second iced tea. "Have you seen Edward yet?"

"No. Is he here?"

"You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't."

"You have been off the beaten track, haven't you? Where did you say you'd been all this time?" Hilary was watching Jonathan's serve again.

"Ethiopia. Tanzania. The jungle. Heaven. Hell. The usual spots."

"How nice, darling . . . how really very nice. See anyone we know?" But she was too engrossed in Jonathan's game to listen or care. "Come darling, 111 introduce you to Jonathan." But Edward appeared on the scene before Hilary could sweep her away. He greeted Kezia with warmth, but also with caution.

"I never thought I'd see you here!" It was an odd greeting after so much and so long.

"I never thought you would either." She laughed and gave him a hug that reminded him of old times.

"How are you, really?"

"How do I look?"

"Just the way I'd want to see you. Tanned, healthy, and relaxed." And also sober. That was a relief.

"And that's how I am. It's been a long bunch of months."

"Yes. I know." He knew that he would never know the full story, but he was certain it had come close to destroying her. Much too close. "You're staying for a while?"

"Just a few days. Then I have to go back. Simpson is in the midst of making a deal for me, for a book."

"How perfectly marvelous!"

"That's how I feel." She smiled happily, and hooked her arm in his, as he prepared to lead her away for a walk.

"Come. Tell me about it. Let's go sit down under the trees over there." He removed two more iced teas from a silver tray and headed for a gazebo far from the courts. They had a lot to catch up on, and for the first time in years she seemed willing to talk. He had missed her very badly, but the time had done him good as well. He had realized at last what she represented in his life, and what she could never be. He too had made peace with himself and the people he dreamed of, as much as he ever would. Most of all he had accepted what seemed to be bis role. Acceptance. Understanding. As life's trains passed him by.

The last lonely gentleman standing on the platform.

Kezia was almost sorry to leave Marbella, for the first time in her life. She had come to terms with a thousand ghosts in the months she'd spent alone, not only Luke's ghost, but others. She was even free of the ghost of her mother. At last. And now she had to go home.

It was funny, on the plane home from Spain she remembered something Alejandro had said a long time ago. "That whole life is a part of you, Kezia. You can't deny it." Though she didn't want to live it anymore, she no longer needed to exorcise it either. She was free.

It was a pleasant flight, and New York was hot and muggy and beautiful and throbbing when she arrived. Hilary was wrong. It was exciting even in August. Maybe no one who mattered was there, but everyone else was. The city was alive.

There were no photographers to greet her, nothing, no one, only New York. And that was enough. She had so much to do. It was late Friday night. She had to go home and unpack, wash her hair, and first thing the next morning, she would take the subway to Harlem. First thing. She bad flown home from Spain for her book, but to see Alejandro too. It was time now. For her anyway. She had planned it for a long time. And she was ready. For him. For herself. He was part of her past, but not the part she had put away. He was the part she had saved for the present.

And the present looked and felt splendid. She was unfettered now, unbound and happy and free. She tingled with the excitement of all that lay ahead . . . people, places, things to do, books to write, her old conquered world at her feet, and now new worlds to conquer. Above all, she had conquered herself.

She had it all now. What was there to fear? Nothing, and that was the beauty of what she had found. No one owned her anymore, not a life-style, not a man, no one. Kezia owned Kezia, for good.

The days with Luke had been treasured and rare, but a new dawn had come ... a silver and blue morning filled with light. And there was room for Alejandro in her new day, if he was around, and if not, she would ride laughing and proud into noon.