The Baby Secret

by Helen Brooks

  Victoria had sat in stunned disbelief, holding the phone for a good five minutes after it had gone dead, but no matter how she'd tried to explain it away one fact remained. He had been worried about her, so worried he had smoothed the way by the only avenue left open to him. Oh, Zac, Zac… She'd felt more confused than ever.

  She had made the excuse of feeling tired—which wasn't really an excuse at all as she was constantly exhausted these days due to one sleepless night after another—when Zac had arrived home later, and had gone to bed without telling him about her mother's phone call. She'd needed to think about this, digest it, before she discussed it with him. Everything was getting more and more complicated.

  And then, as she had lain staring into the darkness with sleep a million miles away, the memory had come to haunt her.

  It had featured her father and Linda Ward and herself. She could only have been four or five, and there was a garden party going on. She was sitting in one of those upholstered sofa swings on Linda's lap, and her father had joined them. From that point it was blurred, but her father must have been short with her because she recalled Linda saying that she—Victoria—was the innocent one in all of this, and it wasn't fair to take it all out on a child.

  And her father had cried. That was the thing she had buried, because she hadn't been able to cope with it at the time—she had been too unused to any show of emotion. But he had definitely cried.

  The phone ringing at the side of her now interrupted further reminiscences, and she picked it up quickly, glad to come out of the misty shadows that puzzled and confused her.

  'Tory?' Zac's voice was dark and gentle, and she shivered deep inside. 'How are you feeling?' he asked softly.

  'Feeling?' she echoed dazedly, her mind a million miles away.

  'You felt off colour last night, and you had backache this morning at breakfast,' Zac reminded her quietly. 'Is everything okay?'

  'Oh, that—oh, no, I'm fine,' Victoria said hastily. Fine. What a stupid word, she thought with savage self-deprecation. She wasn't fine; she was anything but fine. She missed him. He was living in the same house, eating his meals with her, talking to her about his work, his interests, everything these days, and the more he did that, the further away he seemed to get Because it made her realise what she was missing. Oh, she was a mess…

  'The weather forecast is foul, so just put your feet up today,' Zac said softly, 'and if your back is still troubling you when I come home I'll give you a massage.'

  A massage? Victoria remembered how he had looked at breakfast that morning, his lean, muscled body clothed in a designer suit and light blue shirt, black hair slicked back from his forehead and his tanned skin carrying a deliciously clean, lemony smell that carried undertones of raw male. It had taken her a full hour to recover. And he was talking about a massage…

  'It's…it's all right,' she said in a flustered gasp. 'I…I'm sure I'll be—'

  'Fine?' he finished lazily. 'Well, we'll see. Goodbye for now.'

  How would Linda react if she went to see her? Alone with her thoughts again, Victoria returned to a safer topic than Zac. The baby was due in another three weeks so if she was going to go now was the time. But perhaps her father's mistress wouldn't want to see the daughter of her old lover? If she was at home, that was.

  Linda was at home, and she welcomed Victoria with a warmth that surprised the younger woman as she said, 'How lovely to see you.' Linda's looks, although pleasant, had never been stunning, and now Victoria saw the older woman had obviously decided to ride the passing years gracefully. Her make-up was perfect but discreet, and her thick hair cut expensively well but showing liberal amounts of silver among the brown. 'I'd heard the baby was expected soon, and I've been looking in the paper every night for the last week or so to see if it's arrived,' Linda said with her gentle smile.

  'Have you?' Victoria was surprised but rather pleased.

  Once Linda had led her into the sitting room—a cosy room Victoria remembered vaguely from the past, with good but slightly shabby furniture enhanced by a roaring log fire in front of which the most enormous tabby cat lay—Victoria knew she had to speak quickly before she lost her nerve.

  'You'll probably think I'm being silly,' she began hesitantly, 'and I hope you won't mind what I'm about to say, but it is important My mother told me some months ago about you and…and my father.' She was blushing furiously but she couldn't help it.

  Linda's face straightened but her eyes were steady as she said, 'I've nothing to hide, Victoria. What do you want to know?'

  'I don't understand half of it, and it's none of my business, I know that, but something has been bothering me.' Oh, this was difficult, awful. She should never have come.

  And then Linda made everything easier as she leant forward, her eyes soft, and said, 'Of course it's your business, Victoria.'

  It was simple from then on, and after Victoria had finished speaking Linda was quiet for a full minute before she said, 'I'll make some tea and then we'll talk properly.'

  They talked until lunchtime, and when Linda asked her to stay and share a meal Victoria promptly accepted. She was so glad she had come; she had learnt so much.

  Linda's face had glowed as she had talked of Victoria's father. 'We met just a year too late,' she said softly. 'His marriage with your mother was virtually an arranged one—two families who had known each other for years wanting their offspring to wed. Your father had never met anyone he really cared about, and your mother was very attractive, so he let himself be talked into it. He knew from his honeymoon it was a terrible mistake, but you were conceived almost straight away. We met a few months later.'

  Linda's hand went out to hold Victoria's as she continued, 'Your mother…well, she didn't plan on having a baby, and your father always said it was a miracle you were conceived anyway. She didn't like the intimate side of marriage at all. But there it was; you were on your way and neither of us felt it was right for him to leave until you were older.'

  'He stayed because of me?' Victoria asked slowly. 'But he never took any interest in me, not really,' she added bewilderedly.

  'He wanted to, but your mother was very clever in using any weakness as a weapon,' Linda said a trifle bitterly. 'Added to which he wasn't a man who could show affection easily, and he was consumed by guilt most of the time. He felt he was being unfair to you, to me, and, of course, to your mother. I finished with him several times—for his sake, not mine,' Linda added quickly, 'but we couldn't live without each other; it was as simple as that. And Coral didn't actually mind.' Linda's voice reflected her amazement. 'As long as he remained her husband in name and allowed her to live as she chose. In fact, she almost encouraged our liaison.'

  'I know.' Victoria nodded, remembering all her mother had said.

  'Once Coral had sent you away to school he spent most of his time here,' Linda said quietly. 'And then…he was gone, along with all the plans we had made for the future.'

  'And you've never met anyone else?' Victoria asked slowly, her heart going out to the gentle, softly spoken woman in front of her who was the very antithesis of Coral.

  'I've never wanted to.' Linda smiled a sad smile, 'He was the only one for me, and I know I was the only one for him. We were utterly faithful to each other. It happens like that sometimes.'

  'It happens like that sometimes.'

  The first lazy fat snowflakes were beginning to fall out of the laden sky as Victoria waved goodbye to Linda later that afternoon and stepped into the taxi the other woman had ordered for her, her head spinning with all she had been told.

  'It happens like that sometimes.' She couldn't get the refrain out of her head. She felt as emotionally drained as if she had been caught up in some terrible tragedy, but then she had in a way, she told herself silently as the taxi sped along the fast whitening roads. An old tragedy, but a tragedy nevertheless, which had affected everyone who'd played a part Her father's entrapment in a loveless marriage and his ongoing guilt and pain and confusion had touc
hed all of them, but most of all her, as she had struggled to make sense of an adult world she couldn't comprehend. But that was the past, and she understood better now…

  The niggling ache in the small of her back that had started first thing that morning was getting worse, along with the snow which was now coming down in a feathery white curtain. It was beautiful, Victoria thought wonderingly. And life was beautiful—it was. And she didn't want to miss out on it. Her father had been capable of love; in his own way he had been faithful to Linda from the moment he met her because he loved her. His mistake had been in marrying the wrong woman, she realised with a thudding heart.

  And had she married the wrong man?

  The taxi driver swore as two small children muffled up to the eyeballs threw a snowball at his cab, but Victoria didn't even hear him, a missile of gigantic proportions crashing into her consciousness. Zac was her 'sometimes'.

  She loved Zac with all her heart, and she believed he loved her in the same way. Her father, cold and remote as he had been, had loved Linda Ward almost to the exclusion of anything—or anyone—else, his frustration at not being able to live with the woman he loved gnawing away at him until he had died prematurely. He hadn't played the field, he hadn't gone from one affair to another…

  Zac had wanted to take care of her all along, even when she had rejected him for the second time. He had been prepared to wait for her, playing a part in her life and his child's until she grew to trust him; she saw that now. She saw it.

  Or was she fooling herself because she so wanted to believe what her heart was telling her? Her stomach turned over and all the old doubts reared their heads before she took a deep breath, staring out of the car window at the thick curtain of snow falling from a white-grey sky, the faint golden glow from the streetlamps barely making an impression in the fading light.

  She loved Zac. She was her father's daughter, not her mother's, and she loved him. Her father had made a terrible mistake in marrying the wrong woman, but her mistake would be a hundred times worse than that if she let the right man go because of her cowardice. And that was what it boiled down to. She was frightened of opening the door and allowing Zac free entry, frightened of the power it would give him and her own vulnerability. But if he loved her as she loved him he was in the same position, wasn't he? It worked both ways. There was no get-out clause.

  She continued to chew at the dilemma all the way home, shifting in her seat as the ache in her back grew more uncomfortable and began to make her feel slightly nauseous.

  It was just after four when the taxi drew into the drive, and before it had even drawn to a halt Zac was there, his face thunderous as he wrenched open the door. 'Where the hell have you been?' She couldn't remember ever seeing him so angry. 'Where the hell have you been?' he repeated furiously, his eyes flashing.

  'I've been to see someone.' Victoria stared at her husband in amazement. 'What on earth is the matter?'

  'I popped home lunchtime to see how you were,' he bit out savagely, 'and Mrs Watts didn't have a clue where you were.'

  'You popped home…' And then she recalled his telephone call earlier that day, and immediately felt horribly guilty. 'But you said you wouldn't be home till five. Oh, I'm sorry, Zac, really.'

  As the taxi driver joined Zac on the drive and received a ferocious glare for his pains, he clearly thought he ought to make his position clear. 'Nothin' to do with me, mate,' he said cheerily, 'although I thought it was a bit strange she was gallivantin' on a day like this in her condition. Still, that's women for you. My missus is the same.'

  Zac wasn't interested in the taxi driver's 'missus' and said so, softening his testiness with a handsome tip that sent the man away happy with a merry toot of his horn.

  He said not another word as he helped Victoria over the snow and into the house, but immediately he closed the front door behind them his simmering rage bubbled over again.

  'I've called everyone we know—and the hospital— since lunchtime,' he said tightly. 'I've even had William phoning round.'

  'William?'

  She stared at him in amazement, and his snarl of, 'Yes, William,' was not reassuring as he took her elbow and steered her into the drawing room, his face still dark with temper.

  'I called to see if you'd gone round there, and he thought he might know a few folk I didn't,' Zac said in a low sort of growl. 'The guy was as worried as me, so you'd better call him in a minute and put his mind at ease.'

  'I will.' He must have been worried to ask for William's help.

  'But not before you tell me what was so important that you high-tail it on a day like this,' he grated.

  There was a strange kind of tightening in her stomach, but it barely registered on Victoria's consciousness as she sought for words to explain why it had been so important to see Linda that day. She just didn't know where to start, she thought helplessly.

  'I…I had to see someone,' she said at last.

  'Male or female?' It was a gruff bark, and she suddenly realised that along with his unquestionable worry there had been an element of something else—confusion, doubt, even jealousy?

  She stared at him in absolute amazement 'Zac, I'm as big as a house,' she said blankly. 'You didn't think…?'

  'I didn't know what to think,' he prevaricated angrily, but she had seen the look of fierce relief in his eyes before he could veil his glance, and it wrenched her heart. They were stupid—the pair of them, they were stupid, she thought tremblingly, before she qualified that with, But it's my fault He doesn't know where he stands or what to think.

  'I went to see my father's mistress.' She sat down in one of the big soft easy chairs in front of the fire as she spoke; she was really feeling quite odd. 'There were things I had to ask her, things I needed to know. Zac, they loved each other. I mean they really loved each other, like…like us.'

  'Us?' He had gone very still.

  'I've been so stupid.' Tears pricked at her eyes but she blinked them away determinedly. She had to say it all; she couldn't break down now. 'I know that now. Because I do love you, more than anything else in all the world, and I can't live without you, Zac. I don't want to stay in a separate house to you, or for our child to divide its time between us. I…I know about the flat, about you paying for it for me—' And then, as the emotion she had felt when Coral had first told her overwhelmed her in a torrent of love and thankfulness and joy, her voice broke.

  'Tory?' And then he was kneeling at her side, and kissing her in a way that took no account of her size, his voice incoherent as he punctuated the kisses with wild, tender murmurings until both their faces were damp, their tears mingling.

  'Don't ever leave me again, Tory.' He drew back at last, his eyes naked with the agony he had felt then. 'I couldn't go through that again and remain sane.'

  'I won't, I won't.' She traced the contours of his face with wondering hands, amazed at the release of contentment and peace that flooded her. 'Whatever happens in the future, whatever problems we have to face, we'll see them through together. I promise. No more running away. I know who I am now, Zac, for the first time ever.'

  'There'll only ever be you, you know that, don't you?' Zac said softly, placing his hands over hers as she cupped his strong face in her fingers. 'You're everything to me, Tory. You have been from the first moment I laid eyes on you.'

  'I know.' She smiled mistily. 'I really do know now.'

  'Children will be wonderful, gifts from God, but if it had only been me and you to the end of our days that would have been enough for me.' He took her in his arms again, kissing her passionately as he remained kneeling at her side. 'I was determined I would wait for as long as it took to get you to believe in me; I had enough love for both of us. I would never have let you go,' he said with a fierce resolve that thrilled her.

  'I know that too.' Her voice was faintly teasing as she added, 'No divorce, remember? The Harding name must not be soiled.'

  'Ah…' His eyes narrowed slightly, his mouth twisting with wry humour. 'I
have a slight confession to make there. There has been a divorce in the illustrious Harding ancestry, more than one in fact But it was the only thing I could think of at the time.'

  'Shame on you, Zac Harding,' Victoria said reprovingly.

  'I never said I fight fair.' He smiled sexily. 'But I wanted to keep time on my side. I didn't have much else going for me.'

  'Talking of time…' Victoria looked straight into his eyes, relishing the moment. 'That backache wasn't just backache. I'm sitting in a wet chair.'

  'A wet…?'

  She saw the dawning realisation in his face even before she said, her voice serene, 'The baby is on its way, Zac. My waters have broken.'

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The snow was inches thick when they stepped out into a transformed landscape of ethereal beauty some minutes later, but the tranquillity of the moment was quite ruined by Zac's loud and profuse swearing as he surveyed the blocked drive.

  'It will be all right, don't worry.' Victoria smiled at him—loving him, needing him—but then, as the mild backache she had been experiencing all day switched to her stomach with dramatic intensity, inflicting the sort of pain she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy, she almost doubled up on the doorstep.

  'Tory? Hell, Tory, what is it? What's happening?'

  He was panicking. That thought registered through the overwhelming pain, and then, as the contraction subsided, she raised her head and looked into the horrified face of her husband. Although it didn't look like Zac. In fact she didn't think she had ever seen such sheer terror on a human face before. And then she realised. His mother. His mother had died giving birth to his little sister when he was ten years old, and at ten you could take in quite a lot. And it had been an early birth—like this one. He had his own wounds from the past that needed healing.