Page 38 of Starting Over

Her handbag lay on the passenger seat and her face pinkened betrayingly as she glanced at it. Inside it were the condoms it had taken all her self-confidence and several abortive attempts to purchase. What were the social niceties of such matters? She really had no idea, but she knew that there was no way she could possibly leave either her health or the conception of an unplanned child to chance.

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 a

lmost 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.

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