Starting Over (26 page)

That comment Nick had made about her being the first woman he had taken back to his cottage had caught her off guard and punched a huge hole in her emotional defences. Was it the truth or was it just a cynical ploy he had used knowing how such an admission was likely to affect her.

The weather was worsening, thick clouds drifting in ominously off the sea and reducing driving visibility, and Sara was shiveringly aware of what a mystical land this was. A land of legend and ancient wisdom where anything could happen.

Why
was she telling herself that? What was it she secretly
wanted
to happen?

Back there in the town square of Aberaeron, locked to Nick's body, returning his passionate kisses with hungry fervour, she had known she was aching for him physically right down to her toes. And she had known as well that the ache wasn't merely physical. A sheep loomed out of the mist causing her to grasp her steering wheel hard and remind herself that she needed all her concentration for the road.

IN FRONT OF HER
as he saw the way the weather was closing in, Nick cursed himself for not insisting that they travel together. He was far more familiar with this drive than she was and, unfashionably macho though it might make him seem, he couldn't deny his very male urge to take charge and protect her.

Standing body to body with her in the town square of Aberaeron looking down into her face, knowing helplessly that he was completely unable to resist the temptation to kiss her, Nick had finally allowed himself to acknowledge that no mere desire on its own, no matter how strong or potent, could be responsible for the intensity of what he was feeling.

In that telling moment in the restaurant when Sara had unwittingly revealed her female jealousy of Bobbie's supposed relationship with him along with his instinctive urge to reassure her, had been a much less civilised and outrageously male triumph that she should feel that way about him.

They were approaching Fishguard, the small town wreathed in a blanket of sea mist. On the other side of the town lay the road to St. David's and the hin-terland behind it—and his cottage. He frowned as he caught sight of his jacket on the passenger seat of the four-wheel drive. Inside it was his wallet and inside his wallet... He had felt almost as awkward and self-conscious as a teenager when he had made the journey to a large anonymous supermarket out of town to buy the condoms now concealed in his wallet. It made good sense, of course, for Sara's sake and his own to take such precautions; but he had to admit that he felt there was something a little bit too clinical and con-trived about the act of having to do so. Ruefully he mentally derided that passionately romantic streak in his nature that baulked at such practicalities. And even more so at the fact that Sara was exercising her modern woman's right to have sex with him simply because she wanted sex? What was it he
really
wanted from her—a passionate declaration of love? He frowned as the mist thickened, demanding that he gave his attention to his driving and not to his own personal thoughts.

HONOR FROWNED
as she listened to Ben complaining to her about Max and Maddy.

'I think you're being rather unfair,' she told him quietly, resisting the temptation to say even more as she reminded herself of her growing concern that his health was deteriorating.

As she listened to Ben she couldn't help comparing him to her cousin Freddy. Granted Freddy was a little bit younger than Ben but more importantly, Freddy had a warmth, a love, for his fellow human beings that Ben totally lacked.

Thinking of Freddy made Honor's frown deepen slightly.

Two days ago he had asked her and David to have dinner with him, explaining that there was something he wanted to discuss with them both. That something had been his desire to leave Fitzburgh Place to them.

Honor wasn't sure which of them had been the more shocked.

'But surely it's entailed,' she had protested.

'The title goes to the next male in line,' Freddy had agreed. 'But there's no legally enforceable entail on the house. I
had
thought of endowing it for a charity but most of them are awash with great expensive properties they don't really want and then, after you moved here, Honor, and David arrived and the two of you...'

He had paused and looked at Father Ignatius, who he had insisted was to be privy to what he wanted to say.

'I know the house will be safe in yours and David's hands, Honor,' he had said quietly and simply.

Instinctively she had looked at David, who had returned her gaze before reaching for her hand, knowing immediately that she wanted him to respond for both of them.

'It's a very big decision to make Freddy,' David had pointed out gently. 'And a very generous one...'

'It's not generous—not really,' Freddy had objected. 'Place costs a damn fortune to run—not that it will be coming to you without something to support itself. I've been lucky with my investments and the place is becoming more self-financing and once we get this wedding thing off the ground... Take on Fitzburgh Place and you can grow as many herbs as you wish,' he had told Honor temptingly.

Later that night when they had discussed his offer in bed, tears had filled Honor's eyes as she admitted to David how surprised she had been and how touched.

'He might not show it but he loves that house so much. To feel that he can entrust it to us is such...'

'I know what you mean,' David had agreed gruffly.

In the darkness they had hugged each other tightly.

'It won't be easy,' Honor had acknowledged. 'Running a place like that...making it pay...'

'But the prospect of doing so excites you,' David had teased her before adding with gentle warning,

'Don't forget that people change their minds. Hopefully Freddy will have a lot of years left to run Fitzburgh Place himself and in that time he could make other decisions, other choices....'

'You mean like your father with Queensmead?'

Honor had guessed immediately, shaking her head.

'No. Freddy would never do that.'

Even so they had both agreed that for the time being they would keep Freddy's proposition to themselves.

'You're not interested, then,' Freddy had barked gruffly at them both before they had left.

'Of course we are,' they had confirmed together.

'But we want to give you time to think things through properly,' Honor had told him gently, her hand on his arm as she smiled at him.

'Think I'm a senile old fool who doesn't know his own mind—is that it?' he had grumbled.

'You? No way!' David had laughed. 'But it
is
a big decision to make.'

'My decision has already been made. Can't think of anyone better fitted for the job of taking over the place, nor anyone I'd rather hand it over to when the time comes. Know you'll both do the right thing by it...and by me.'

'Oh, Freddy,' Honor had whispered emotionally as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

'No. No.'

In his nightmare Max drew out his protest from tortured lungs as he saw the knife slicing through the air towards Maddy and their child.

'Max...Max... What's wrong?' Maddy asked in alarm, reaching out to switch on the bedside light as Max's cry woke her from her own sleep.

Awake now, Max felt the sick sweat of his nightmare chilling on his bare body.

'I'm sorry. Did I wake you?' he apologised to her.

'I must have been dreaming.'

Maddy watched him in concern. Something was wrong but she had no idea what it was. When she had been told by the hospital that so long as she was careful they felt confident that her pregnancy would now proceed normally and that neither she nor the baby were at any risk, she had expected Max to share her relieved joy, but instead he had seemed preoccupied and almost distant.

She had tried to talk to him, to find out what was wrong, but he had refused to admit that anything
was
wrong.

'Max,' she began tentatively. 'If something's worrying you...'

'It was a bad dream—that's all.' Max could hear the defensive tension in his own voice. 'Go back to sleep, Maddy,' he told her in a more gentle voice.

He was already reaching out to switch off the bedside lamp, turning away from her as he lay down again. Maddy studied the silky back of his head in silent anguish. Something
was
wrong. She knew it instinctively. She longed for Max to turn round and take her in his arms but since her return from hospital he had treated her as though she were as fragile as a piece of delicate china.

Hesitantly she reached out, stroking her fingertips along the exposed line of his shoulder.

Beneath Maddy's gentle touch Max tensed. He longed, ached, to hold Maddy tight, to tell her how he felt and why, but how could he? If he did, she would never feel the same about him again.

Tonight's nightmare wasn't his first and he knew that it wouldn't be his last and that things were bound to get worse once the baby Maddy was carrying was born. How could they not? How could he, Max, look into the face of his new child without feeling guilt?

No matter
what
he did,
how
he tried to analyse his feelings away he knew he could never escape from the knowledge that in his own selfish need for Maddy he would have denied their child life.

Maddy would certainly never forgive him if she knew and he was beginning to fear he would never be able to forgive himself.

When Max showed no reaction to her tentative caress, Maddy quietly withdrew her hand.

Was he perhaps angry because of the disruption this new pregnancy was causing? It had been his decision to continue to work mainly from home until after the birth. Maddy had not asked him to do so, but she knew how much she needed his input into the day-to-day running of their domestic fives at the moment. It was true that he had not shown any signs of being irritated by the demands that were being made on him but she could think of no other reason for the tension she could sense in him.

'Stop worrying,' he instructed her whenever she tried to talk to him about her feelings. But how could she when something was so obviously wrong?

DESPITE THE WARMTH
inside her car, Olivia shivered violently as she stopped outside David and Honor's house. She had been feeling ill all day, feverish and shivery, her throat sore with a dull persistent headache.

There was a particularly virulent strain of flu going round and she prayed that she wasn't about to go down with it.

From where she sat in her car she could see into the sitting room. Her father was seated in a chair, Amelia crouching next to him whilst Alex sat curled up on his knee. He was reading to them and the three of them were so engrossed in what they were doing that they were totally oblivious to her own arrival.

As she watched them and witnessed the closeness between them, a pain seared right through her. Never once during her own childhood could she remember her father reading to
her,
never mind exhibiting the loving closeness he was showing her own daughters.

As she watched, Alex started to laugh and as David bent his head to say something, Amelia reached up and flung her arms round him, hugging him tightly.

A huge lump of pain and anguish ached in Olivia's throat. A mixture of resentment and joy. Resentment on her own behalf and joy on her daughters' that they should so obviously and trustingly be enjoying their grandfather's company—and receiving his love?

No one else would know just how hard she had found it to allow her children to be with her father, how much she had hated having to ask for his help, but there was no denying that they were thriving on the situation. Every day they came home full of what they had done with their grandfather. Every morning they couldn't wait for her to drop them off with him.

Already Honor had become 'Grandma' to them, their faces lighting up when they talked excitedly of the time they spent with the older couple.

Alex in particular was fascinated by the priest who it seemed had a fund of exciting stories to tell them, and their conversation was full of references to Grandma's herbals and Gramps's workshop.

The evening they had come out to the car proudly carrying the cakes they had made for her, Olivia's eyes had filled with tears.

Alex and Amelia were now having a play fight over which of them should sit on David's knee and when he resolved it by reaching out and wrapping an arm around each of them Olivia had to look away.

Never once could she remember him ever being so affectionate and loving with her—because she had not been a child who was
worthy
of being loved?

Bleakly she tried to push the thought away. Now was not the time to allow herself to be re-tormented by what should be vanquished spectres.

'For God's sake, Livvy,' Caspar had accused her in exasperation during one of their rows. 'Forget the past and try living in the present.'

Forget the past! If only she could, but right now she felt like a little girl again; a little girl looking enviously at the happy loving domestic scene from which she was excluded.

As she told herself grimly that she was adding to her own pain, she heard someone rapping on her car window.

Her colour rising, she turned away from the scene which had been engrossing her to find Honor standing at the side of the car smiling at her.

Feeling almost as though she had been caught out in something illicit Olivia opened the door.

'I'm just on my way inside. I've been working in my greenhouse trying to make sure everything is properly protected from the frost,' Honor explained easily.

'Why don't you come in with me?'

Olivia started to refuse but then, for some reason, found that instead of doing so she was actually getting out of the car.

Honor's pregnancy was only just beginning to show. It was hard for Olivia to get her head round the fact that the baby Honor was carrying would be her own half-brother or -sister.

Caspar would have liked more children but she had refused. How could she possibly have another child when she was working full-time?