Rafe looked at her curiously. ‘A few weeks ago?’
Sage nodded. Rafe continued in clipped, curt tones.
‘He was drunk, and I had already given him a warning. He was being heavy-handed on my best horse. The horse did not appreciate it and neither did I, so I sacked him.’ Rafe clearly had no regrets, and he was certainly not going to apologize for it; he turned and got into the car. Sage understood. Turning up drunk to ride was unforgivable.
She stood alone in the dark stable yard, the freezing gravel biting into her stocking-clad feet. Bewildered by the intricate maze of her emotions, she gazed up at the full moon as fleeting wisps of cloud drifted across its cratered face, casting shadows that looked like wild geese on the wing.
They were quiet in the car. Rafe drove back to Newmarket quickly, softly swearing whenever traffic impeded his progress. They sat with their arms barely an inch apart. Rafe deftly wove his way through the other cars on the motorway and they soon turned off the A14. Now that the adrenaline had faded she felt exhausted; her very bones ached after yesterday’s fall and an unaccustomed long day in the saddle. She wondered if shehad upset him. All she wanted now was to hold Hal’s comforting, solid little body close, eat something and then climb into a hot bath.
Rafe’s thoughts were almost entirely filled with horses: he had a couple of runners declared for Kempton the next day and needed to call their owners. A day’s hunting was a real luxury these days, and he would be playing catch-up late into the night: he had emails to answer, vets’ reports to go through and race planning to get on top of.
Sage drank him in; she found herself wanting to lean over and touch his muscular arm that rested on the steering wheel. Instead she settled for watching his handsome face as he focused on the fast-moving traffic. She was relieved to see that she had not offended him as he caught her gaze and smiled at her, his eyes flashing in the darkness; she saw that he was just thoroughly absorbed in his own thoughts as he dialled another owner’s number. Unable to help herself, she breathed in the intoxicating smell of him that hung in the charged air of the car, giddy with longing.
She was half-relieved when they finally turned into the driveway. In a few moments, she would say goodbye and the agony of not touching him would be over.
Rafe put the car into neutral, the engine idling, and turned to Sage. He did not bother to hide an impish grin.
‘Well, that was torturous,’ he said, exhaling.
‘Hell.’
Their eyes locked.
Sage leant across and placed a feather-light kiss on his cheek and then slipped out of the car. She could not bear to be so close to him, but as she walked up the steps to the house she realized that she hated moving away from him even more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.
Jane Austen,Sense and Sensibility
Saturday, the day of Skylark’s scheduled maiden race, loomed grey and overcast in classic February fashion. Through the drawing-room window, Sage watched black rooks circling the bare beech trees, cackling and shrieking at something below.Just let the rain hold off, she prayed. She longed for the filly to do well; she felt partly responsible for her now that she was her main rider at home. Sage had managed to stay on the flighty filly for the rest of the week and they had worked beautifully on Thursday, galloping easily, several lengths clear of Dear Morris. Dennis was trying his best to keep it all under wraps so that he could get a good bet on.
The phone rang on the desk beside Sage, making her jump. She picked it up without thinking.
‘North Place, hello?’
‘Hi, Sage,’ said Santiago, his words dripping with complacent satisfaction that he had reached her.
It was only two words but the hairs on her neck stood up in dread. She felt a tremor in her hands and balled them intofists. The sound of her husband’s voice propelled her straight back to the horrors of Panama. Listening to his breathing, she tried to speak but no words came out. Her throat tightened and her mind went into overdrive, her thoughts racing. Could she just replace the receiver? she wondered. She held onto the idea like a beacon as rage and terror flashed inside her, making her body weak from internal turbulence. She sat down heavily on her grandmother’s chair, her knees giving way beneath her. She thought of her mobile, switched off, in her handbag. Of course he’d tracked down the landline number. She would never be able to get away from him.
Sage had been dealing with lawyers all week, and the financial and emotional burdens were quickly becoming oppressive. Santiago was already being excessively difficult and claiming he wanted joint custody of Hal, despite her agreement with Lucilla. It was laughable. Santiago had rarely spent any time with Hal, preferring to kiss his son’s clean head just before bedtime, and once Hal had been fed and bathed; only the chaos of the day washed away by Sage. Bitter thoughts of what she would like to say swirled around her mind, but her lawyers had advised against any direct communication.
He asked, in a low soft voice, ‘How is my son?’
‘I think it’s best we only communicate through our lawyers,’ Sage said defiantly, before replacing the receiver on its cradle with a satisfying click.
She stood, her knees stronger and her head clearer, and headed outside to start her grandfather’s car, warming it up before jumping into the back. They would be leaving for the race soon, and Dolly should be arriving any moment to join them. Hal was safely ensconced in the kitchen with Maggie, drawing at the kitchen table. He had started at the nursery around the corner that week, merrily skipping in without hesitation. It was just three days a week and was eating further into her overdraft,but worth every penny. Sage had never known him so settled and confident. The thought that anything might threaten to destabilize the happy balance made Sage even more fiercely devoted to protecting him. In September, Hal would be starting school properly and there was no way shared custody between two countries would ever work. The last written correspondence from his lawyers had suggested that instead of proceeding with their divorce, they should try counselling to help them repair the marriage and enable them to reconcile as a family. Sage could not think of anything she would less like to do, and she shuddered involuntarily. She would just have to figure out the finances on her own, with no contribution from Santiago, and she hoped never to have anything to do with him again. He was not the role model she wanted for her son; his skewed moral compass had definitely lost its true north. Her neck still prickled with goosebumps from the most recent encounter, his voice echoing in her ears.
‘Have you got the picnic basket, darling?’ Betsy was calling from the back door.
Sage opened the door to reply, wrapping her scarf tighter around her to keep the chill off. ‘Yes, Gammy, Maggie gave it to me.’ She felt all the aches and pains of her body much worse in the cold and her muscles were fairly sore. She had ridden more in the last six weeks than she had in about five whole years and her body was still acclimatizing. She felt stronger than she had since leaving school. Her limbs were leaner and harder and her core was becoming solid again; she felt fit and healthy, if a little tender after Skylark’s antics, and she enjoyed the sensation of her body readjusting. Her psychological bruises, however, made the physical ones pale into insignificance. Those would take more time to heal.
She consciously pulled herself together as Dolly’s little car appeared around the corner.
‘Morning! Sorry I’m late!’ Dolly leapt out in a smart, full-length, red fitted coat that flared out prettily above long black boots. Her blonde hair was loose but kept back off her face with a red headband.
‘You look beautiful, Doll,’ Sage said, beckoning her inside the Range Rover and kissing her friend on the cheek. ‘My grandparents are still in the house, you’re not late at all. I amsoglad you could come!’
