Read The Hidden Years Online

Authors: Penny Jordan

The Hidden Years (81 page)

He couldn't even spare the time to drive down to
Cottingdean to see her. Of all the times… If only he had
reacted faster last night, kept her with him. By now…

He groaned as he recognised the direction his thoughts
were taking, half appalled, half amused by the immediate reaction of
his body.

This was not the time to start thinking along those
particular lines, not when he had what would potentially be one of the
most difficult board meetings of his life to chair… No, much
as it galled him, his private life would have to wait… At
least for a few days.

A few days. He groaned again. They would feel like a
lifetime. Several lifetimes. How the hell was he supposed to
concentrate on business when all he really wanted was to be with Sage?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

'What's
wrong, darling? You're looking very pensive.'

Sage smiled at her mother. The four of
them—Lewis, her mother, Scott and herself—had flown
here to this exclusive holiday island in the Caribbean just as soon as
her doctors had given her mother the all clear.

They were occupying a villa belonging to a friend of
Lewis's and they were to spend a month here, getting to know one
another 'as a family', as Lewis had put it.

Sage had only been able to marvel at the patience and
wisdom of her unknown sister-in-law, Scott's wife, who had had the
understanding and the strength of character to refuse Scott's request
for her to join them. Sage had spoken to her by telephone and she had
explained to Sage that she believed that the four of them needed this
special time together.

'I'm looking forward to meeting you, Sage. But you and
Scott and your parents have a lot of private catching up to go through.
There'll be time for us later… I know Scott's hoping that
you and your mother will come out to us for a long holiday…
And of course Faye and Camilla will be welcome as well.'

But that was for the future… For now it was
just the four of them. Four people tied by bonds of love and blood, who
in so many ways were all strangers to one another.

Sage had witnessed the love between her
parents…had seen it and recognised it; had been aware of the
love Scott felt for his wife, and, despite the happiness she had found
in being with these closest members of the family, the joy she had
known in at last coming close to her mother, in at last knowing that
she had been loved— greatly loved, more loved than she had
ever deserved to be—she felt there was still something
missing, still a part of her that ached and yearned… There
was still Daniel.

'I was just thinking,' she murmured…

'About Daniel Cavanagh,' her mother guessed shrewdly.
There were no secrets between them now…no need for Liz to
conceal any longer the great welling up of love she felt for this, the
child Lewis had given her. The child who was so much Lewis's. Gently
she pushed the hair off Sage's face, so that she could look at her.
'You love him very much, don't you?'

'Too much,' Sage acknowledged drily. 'Even if he were to
love me in return, which he doesn't, I don't know if I'd ever feel
happy in that kind of relationship… with that kind of
intensity. It makes one so vulnerable.'

'You should never be frightened of love, Sage,' Liz told
her gently.

Sage smiled at her. 'Weren't there ever times when you
wished you had not loved my father?'

'No,' Liz told her truthfully. 'Because if I hadn't loved
him I would never have conceived you. I wanted to be with him, of
course, and I was desperately concerned for Scott… Edward
allowed me to receive one letter a year from your father, reporting on
Scott's progress, and your father was generous enough to make sure that
I knew that Scott was growing up healthily and happily. And of course I
had you, my precious, wonderful daughter, who was so much her father's
child. I was so frightened that Edward would see how much I loved
you—that he would insist on separating us…'.

'I know,' Sage told her unsteadily, tears filling her eyes
as she marvelled at her mother's courage… her steadfastness,
her ability to cope with what must have been the most appalling burden
of loneliness and fear.

'We'll soon be going home,' Liz reminded her. 'Only
another few days.'

'And then you and Dad will cause a riot when you announce
that you're getting married. I'm still not sure that I'll be able to
cope… with Cottingdean and the mill.'

'You'll cope,' Liz assured her warmly.

'But ultimately Cottingdean must go to Camilla.'

'Yes,' her mother agreed. 'She is, after all, a Danvers,
and I did promise Edward…'

'I don't mind,' Sage assured her, knowing that once she
would have done—once the knowledge that her niece, no matter
how much she loved her, was to inherit the home which she had always
felt had somehow rejected her would have hurt unbearably, opening old
wounds, recalling old hurts, reinforcing her belief that she was
unloved.

'I know you don't.'

'Do you mind—leaving it all, I mean, after all
these years?'

'Yes and no… I've achieved as much as I can.
It's time that younger, firmer hands took up the reins of control. I
was never more than a caretaker for Cottingdean: it knew it and so did
I. In some ways Lewis was right when he accused me of wanting
Cottingdean more than I wanted him. I didn't want it more than him, and
I certainly didn't love it more, but it needed me. Just as Edward
needed me, and, perhaps foolishly, I allowed myself to think that I was
indispensable… irreplaceable.'

'You were… you are,' Sage assured her. 'I'm
still not sure that I—'

'You'll cope… Come on. Lewis and Scott will be
wondering what on earth we're doing…'

'You mean that Dad misses you madly every time you're out
of his sight for more than ten minutes,' Sage teased her. How well she
understood this man who was her father. How well she now understood so
much more of herself, of her own emotions and motivations. This time
with her mother, her father and her brother was something she would
always cherish, a special learning, sharing time which all of them had
needed, a special bonding time which had brought them together as a
family… a unit. She was delighted that her parents were
going to marry. She was delighted that Scott was so happy in his
marriage. And yet… and yet despite her happiness she felt
alone.

Daniel… It all came back to Daniel…
Daniel, whom she loved and who would never love her. What was she doing
to herself? Was she deliberately recreating the feeling of rejection,
of alienation, of loving hopelessly and helplessly, that she had done
with Edward, with her mother, with Scott? It was a depressing thought,
and one she did not want to dwell on.

They flew home four days later. Her parents were going to
marry, quietly and quickly. It would take a month or so for all the
ends to be tied up… for her mother to finally sever her
bonds with Cottingdean. But at the end of that time she would be flying
out to Australia, to rejoin Scott and his family, and she would be
flying out with her new husband… her lover… the
father of her two adult children.

Heathrow was busy, crowded with travellers and their
families. Faye had come to meet them, along with Camilla. Camilla had
an air of suppressed excitement about her. She kept looking at Sage and
grinning at her. She, of all of them, seemed to have accepted the
changes in' their lives the most easily, readily welcoming Scott and
Lewis into her family.

Between the welcoming hugs and kisses she told Sage that
her mother had been dating Alaric Ferguson. 'He's crazy about her,' she
told Sage with a grin. 'Absolutely nuts about her.'

'And do you like him?' Sage asked her niece.

'He's OK,' she said casually. But Sage could tell that she
was quite happy with her mother's new relationship. Everyone, it
seemed, was happy. Everyone contented and fulfilled. Everyone but
her… and then she looked up, and it seemed as though her
heart stopped beating.

Daniel was standing less than five yards away from
her…just standing there, watching her. She stared back,
looking at him with hungry, vulnerable eyes, looking at him as though
he had suddenly materialised out of empty space. Daniel…
What was he doing here? Where was he going? She looked wildly around
her. He wasn't standing in any kind of queue. He wasn't carrying any
luggage. Her mother was standing beside her. She gave her a little push.

'Go to him, Sage,' she told her.

Go to him? She opened her mouth to protest, and looked
round to discover that her mother and the rest of her family seemed to
have disappeared. A wild sensation of having strayed into an unreal
world overtook her. She discovered that she couldn't take her eyes off
Daniel's face, that she couldn't do anything other than stand there and
then stare at him. He wasn't moving. He was looking back at her,
watching, waiting…

Go to him, her mother had said… Go to him. She
took a step forwards and then another, and suddenly she was in his arms.

'Daniel… Daniel…' The taste of his
name mingled with the taste of her tears.

'At last,' she heard him saying roughly. 'At
last… Damn you, Sage. Do you
know
how
long I've waited to hear you say my name like that—do you?'
he demanded, almost shaking her.

'Say it like what?' she asked huskily, while her hands
flexed lovingly against his back, absorbing the sensation of his flesh
beneath her fingertips… the warmth and reality of him, the
maleness. 'Like what?' she repeated dreamily, unaware of the amused and
curious glances they were attracting from other travellers.

'As if you'd suddenly discovered you couldn't live without
me. As if it tasted of heaven… as if you were handing me
your heart and committing yourself to me for the rest of your
life…'

'Oh, is that all?' she murmured provocatively. 'I thought
you were going to say I said it as though I loved you…'

'And do you?' he demanded when he'd finished kissing her.

'Do I what?'

'Do you love me?'

'Does it matter?'

'More than anything else in this life,' he told her
simply. 'I love you, Sage. I want to marry you… I want to
spend the rest of my life with you…'

After she had assured him that his feelings were well and
truly reciprocated, she asked him, 'How did you know we'd be flying
back today?'

'Faye told me…I've been pestering the life out
of her, but she finally only gave way when I told her how much I love
you. She's one tough lady, that sister-in-law of yours.'

'Yes, she is, isn't she?' Sage agreed with a smile.

'Well, will you marry me, Sage? Will you commit yourself
to me?'

She smiled at him, the smile of a sophisticated,
knowledgeable woman, but it was the child who looked out of her eyes at
him—the child who had known so much rejection, so much pain,
the child on the brink of womanhood who had offered herself to him once
before, as she was offering herself to him now, when she said
seductively, 'I'm not sure. We know so little about one another,
Daniel… even sexually.'

'You want us to be lovers now!'

'Only if you do,' she told him unsteadily. And he knew she
was remembering that other time she had offered him this gift of her
body, of herself, and of how he had rejected it.

'Come with me,' he invited her. 'Come with me, Sage, and
let me show you how much…'

It was better than she had expected… better
than anything she had experienced before. Not because Daniel was a
skilled lover, not even because their bodies were so physically attuned
that each caress they shared heightened their pleasure to exquisite
levels. No, it was because she loved him and because she knew he loved
her in turn that it was so special, Sage recognised… because
for the first time in her life she was experiencing not just physical
pleasure, but emotional security.

'I love you, Daniel Cavanagh,' she whispered into the
musky sweatiness of his skin, as he closed his arms round her. It
amused her how much pleasure it gave her to say the words. She was like
a teenager…an adolescent in love for the first time, made
drunk with the intoxication of it.

'Mmm… I love you too,' Daniel whispered back,
and then added gently, 'You're the first woman I've ever wanted to hold
in my arms all through the night. The only woman I've ever wanted to
love.'

'Liar,' Sage derided him sleepily. 'You
never
wanted to love me…'

'Not at first,' he agreed. 'I fought like hell against
what I knew was happening to me.'

'We both did. But the fighting's over now.'

She felt his body shaking and tensed until she realised he
was laughing.

'Do you honestly believe that?' he asked her. 'We'll fight
all our lives, Sage. And we'll love each other all our lives as well.
Loving, fighting, sharing. We were meant to be together, you and I.
Only we were both too stupid to admit it.'

'I love you, Daniel, and I never thought I'd say that to
any man…'

'Much less me… is that it?'

'Much less you,' Sage agreed. 'Funny how things turn out,
isn't it?'

'Hilarious,' Daniel agreed, kissing her tenderly. 'I love
you, Sage—no matter what else might change in our lives, that
never will.'

'No,' she agreed, and as she looked at him she knew that
it was true. His love for her would always be there, supporting her,
cherishing her, fulfilling her. She traced the shape of his mouth with
her finger and then kissed him. Against his mouth she murmured
indistinctly, 'Daniel, do you think I ought to start keeping a diary?'

'Not if you mean to start writing it right at this moment,
I don't,' he told her, drawing her against him. 'Not right at this
moment.'

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