Forgotten Passion

by Penny Jordan

  Lisa could tell by Rorke’s rigidly stiff back that Dr James’s revelation had come as a shock. In other circumstances she might almost have been able to feel pity for the grimly haunted face he turned towards her when Dr James had finished speaking, but now all she could think of was Robbie. Robbie injured and in need of the life-giving blood that had to come from his father.

  ‘Rorke.’

  Dr James was touching him lightly on the shoulder, indicating the waiting nurse. Lisa couldn’t bear to watch as Rorke followed her down the corridor, and she wasn’t even aware that Dr James had remained until he said gently, ‘Try not to worry. I promise you he’s going to be all right. It’s lucky for him that you brought him in for those boosters so quickly, Lisa, and that Rorke was on hand. What happened exactly?’

  Now was her chance to implicate Helen by repeating what Robbie had said to her, but she found she just wasn’t able to do so. All her attention was concentrated on Robbie, willing him to get well. She simply told Dr James that Robbie had slipped on the coral and gashed his arm.

  ‘Yes, I thought that’s what must have happened. Robbie told me that Rorke hadn’t wanted to take him on to the reef, but that he had insisted on going. He’s a very lucky little boy,’ he added a trifle grimly. ‘Thank God Rorke kept a cool enough head to act quickly, otherwise…’

  ‘Please… when can I see Robbie?’ Lisa asked him urgently. Her throat muscles were taut with tension, she felt oddly lightheaded and yet strangely weak, almost as though she could float away. As she followed Dr James down the corridor she had the oddest sense of weightlessness, almost of not really being there at all, but separate from her body, watching its mechanical movements.

  The ward Robbie was in was a small one; the other beds were empty apart from the one next to him where Rorke lay, watching the little boy, his arm brown and sinewy against the white of the bedclothes and the complication of the transfusion equipment.

  Even as she watched Lisa could see a more natural colour returning to Robbie’s pale face. She had eyes only for her son, unaware of the pain etched into Rorke’s features as he watched.

  Dr James’s light touch on her shoulder roused her. ‘Look,’ he said quietly, ‘Robbie’s starting to come round. We gave him a tranquillising shot when you brought him in. He’s a tough little character,’ he added for Rorke’s benefit, ‘and something tells me this isn’t the last time I’m going to see him here.’

  ‘In that case I’d better come in again and give you some more of this,’ Rorke told him, tapping the tube linking his arm to the transfusion equipment. ‘Another time I might not be on hand.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Dr James agreed, indicating to the nurse that Rorke could get up.

  Robbie stirred and opened his eyes, and to Lisa’s anguish the first person he looked for was Rorke.

  ‘I’m sorry I went on the reef when you told me not to, Daddy,’ he said drowsily.

  ‘That’s all right, Robbie.’ Rorke swung himself off the bed and crouched down beside the little boy. ‘You’ve learned a painful lesson, and you know now why I was warning you not to climb on the coral.’

  ‘But Helen did it,’ Robbie objected sleepily.

  ‘Helen’s old enough to make her own mistakes,’ Lisa heard Rorke saying huskily. He saw Dr James glancing at him and added softly, ‘Now you’re going to go to sleep for a little while.’

  ‘Will you be here when I wake up?’

  Across the bed Rorke’s eyes met Lisa’s.

  ‘We’ll both be here Robbie,’ he promised softly.

  With a little sigh Robbie turned to Lisa, letting her kiss and cuddle him, telling her drowsily that he was all right.

  They left the ward together, Lisa unable to forget that Robbie had turned first to his father. She was still in a numb daze when she stumbled against the wall. Instantly Rorke’s arm was supporting her and it seemed from the dream world she was suddenly inhabiting that there was pain as well as concern in the look he gave her. From a distance she heard Dr James’s voice answering Rorke’s sharply curt query, and then she was sliding into warm darkness, the voices of the two men dull echoes that couldn’t hurt or touch her.

  ‘Lisa!’

  She recognised the voice and its implicit command and opened her eyes warily. She was lying in the bed she shared with Rorke, although she had no memory of getting there. Rorke himself was standing beside the bed, staring down at her, his face tautly bitter. Lisa’s hand crept up to the pulse beating erratically in her throat, encountering the soft silk of her nightgown. Who had undressed her and put her to bed? Rorke? Heated colour flooded her skin as she caught the elusive memory of gentle hands easing her out of her clothes, soothing her anguished protests.

  ‘Lisa, I know you’re awake. I want to talk to you.’

  ‘I know,’ she agreed huskily, ‘you’ve already told me.’

  She looked up and saw that Rorke was frowning. ‘That was before…’

  ‘Before you found out that Robbie is your son?’

  Strange how knowing that he now knew the truth had so little effect upon her. She ought to be exulting, but somehow it was too much of an effort. All she cared about was Robbie. Rorke had denied his child for too long for her to care that he knew the truth now. Where once she would have given anything to have him standing looking at her with the helpless anguish she could read plainly in his eyes, suddenly it meant less than nothing to her. It was almost as though she were incapable of feeling anything. It was a sensation not unlike the numbing anaesthetic administered by her dentist. She knew what was happening around her, she knew how she ought to react to it, but somehow the numbing effect of the anaethestic made it impossible for her to do anything more than be an onlooker.

  ‘Lisa, for God’s sake! I didn’t know…. I couldn’t believe…’

  She turned away from him, her voice cool as she said quietly, ‘It really doesn’t matter any more, Rorke. Loving someone sometimes does require an act of faith. It isn’t your fault that you couldn’t believe me—not when you couldn’t remember what happened.’

  ‘Dr James says you’re suffering from shock and that you must rest, but we have to talk this whole thing out, Lisa, we can’t just leave it here.’

  ‘Why not?’ She was amazed that she could be so calm, so uncaring in what ought to have been her moment of triumph.

  She heard Rorke growl something in his throat, but didn’t bother to turn round.

  ‘You might have just discovered that Robbie is your son, Rorke, but don’t forget I’ve always known, and so for me nothing has changed.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later,’ she heard Rorke say grimly as he got up and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Once he had gone she gave herself up to the desire to sleep, wondering vaguely if Dr James had given her some sort of tranquillising shot. She felt so calm and relaxed.

  It was some time later that she heard her bedroom door open again. This time it wasn’t Rorke, it was Helen, immaculately dressed in a suit of pure gentian blue silk, her eyes hardening as they looked across the distance that separated them.

  ‘You haven’t won, you know,’ she began conversationally, sitting down and crossing slender brown legs. ‘You might think that discovering that Robbie is really his son is going to make Rorke turn to you, but it won’t, Lisa. In fact,’ she continued, idly smoothing the silk fabric with long, painted nails, an expression of feline triumph in her eyes, ‘it simply makes matters easier for us.’

  ‘If you mean by “easier” that Rorke can divorce me to marry you, he’s been free to do that for the last five years,’ Lisa told her calmly.

  ‘Oh yes, but then he’s always known how much his father dotes on you. Leigh had planned to split his estate between the two of you, you know, until he found out about the boy. Now he’s leaving your share to Robbie, and as Rorke is Robbie’s natural father, it will be the easiest thing in the world for him to divorce you and claim custody. That way he keeps Leigh happy by keeping the child here and he gets to i
nherit the entire estate.’ She laughed softly. ‘Now that Rorke knows that Robbie is his son he holds the winning card doesn’t he?’

  * * *

  Half an hour later when Mama Case came upstairs with a glass of milk and some fruit she found Lisa staring blindly out of the window, her face pale and set.

  ‘Why, honey chile, whatever be de matter?’ she exclaimed in concern. ‘That little boy, him gonna be just fine, so don’t you go worryin’ yourself about him.’

  So Robbie was going to be ‘just fine’, was he? A huge lump gathered in Lisa’s throat. What would Mama Case say if she told her how callously Rorke was planning to take her son from her? If only she could appeal to Leigh for help—but how could she in his present weakened state? What on earth was she going to do? Panic tore into her. She wanted to go and see Robbie to make sure that he was all right, that Helen and Rorke hadn’t spirited him away somewhere. One read about such horrible things she thought feverishly, of parents snatching their children or all manner of dreadful things. Tears started to stream down her face, and she saw Mama Case watching her with growing concern. She went to the door and opened it, calling something. Ten minutes later Rorke came into the room, his face grim and unreadable. Did he know that Helen had told her the truth? She suspected not. Rorke was too skilled a tactician to want her to be forewarned of what he planned.

  ‘Lisa, stop tearing yourself apart,’ he commanded sternly, ‘Robbie is going to be all right. If you want the truth Dr James is more concerned about you. He seems to think you’re going through some sort of crisis brought on by the strain of Robbie’s accident. Drink this milk and take this tablet. It’s only to help you sleep,’ he added sardonically, seeing her expression. ‘I’m not Bluebeard. I’m not about to do away with you.’

  Under his grim gaze she was forced to take the pill and swallow it down with milk, and although she fought hard against the darkness reaching out to engulf her, it proved too strong. She found herself sinking into it, Rorke’s face growing misty and distant, the smile he gave her as she finally went under terrifying in its triumph. Her last thought was that somehow she must get Robbie away. She must prevent Rorke from doing what Helen said he planned to do. Helen already had her husband, she thought bitterly, she wasn’t going to have her son as well.

  * * *

  A terrible presentiment of evil stalked her through her dreams; the old childhood nightmare of being pursued through some tangled leafless forest of gaunt spectral trees by some terrifying but unseen ‘thing’, resurrected as she tried desperately to escape the fear haunting her.

  A sudden sharp sound splintered through her fear and she woke up staring round the darkened room, her mouth dry and her heart pounding with fear.

  ‘It’s all right, Lisa.’ Rorke’s voice reached her through the darkness and she realised the sound that woke her must have been him entering the room.

  ‘You’ve been having a bad dream so Mama Case says. She didn’t know whether to wake you or not. Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Fruit juice please.’ She felt so dry. It must be the tablet he had given her. ‘Rorke, Robbie…’

  ‘He’s fine,’ he assured her briefly. ‘We should be able to bring him home in a couple of days.’

  The words ‘we’ and ‘home’ started off an ache inside her that wouldn’t be stilled. She moved restlessly in the large bed, wishing she had the courage to ask Rorke to leave. Where before she had felt protected from any kind of pain, now her reactions were just the opposite. Her emotions felt raw and bruised, tears far too near the surface, her body crying out for the comfort of Rorke’s arms, the solace of his lovemaking, and yet she knew quite well that neither could ease the real pain because that sprang from the knowledge that he didn’t want her, didn’t love her, and planned to deprive her of her child.

  ‘Here’s your juice.’

  He had moved so quickly and quietly she hadn’t seen him. As she reached up to take the glass her fingers were trembling so much that some of the liquid splashed over her skin.

  Instantly Rorke was bending over her, his arm supporting her as he sat on the bed lifting her and holding the glass for her so that she could drink in comfort.

  ‘Lisa, we have to talk.’

  She stiffened immediately.

  ‘What about?’ she asked coldly. ‘We don’t have anything to speak about, Rorke.’

  ‘We have Robbie,’ he contradicted quietly. ‘He’s my son, Lisa.’

  ‘He’s been your son from the moment he was conceived, but somehow that fact hasn’t bothered you before!’

  She felt him tense, and in the moonlight saw the dull colour edging up under his skin.

  He was about to say something when the door opened and Mama Case came bustling in.

  ‘You all right?’ she asked Lisa. ‘Tossing and turning like nobody’s business you were.’

  ‘I was having a bad dream,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m fine now.’

  ‘You always did feel fine when Master Rorke was around,’ Mama Case chuckled. ‘Even as a little girl. Every time you fell over, he always had to be the one to kiss you better.’

  She was still laughing as she left the room, but Lisa felt as though her heart was being squeezed in a vice. Rorke was watching her intently, and to her dismay he lifted his hand, tracing the outline of her jaw and smoothing the untidy curls back off her hot face.

  ‘You put me on a pedestal, Lisa,’ he said huskily, ‘and now you can’t forgive me for falling off it, but I could still try to kiss you better.’

  Lisa wouldn’t allow herself to believe that that was a plea she could hear beneath the quiet words.

  ‘It’s too late, Rorke,’ she told him icily. ‘Five years too late.’

  She had turned her back, but she heard him get up and move around the room, and there was a tight bitterness in his voice as he said slowly, ‘I suppose I ought to have expected that, but somehow I hoped you wouldn’t say it. I’ll get Mama Case to come up and sit with you. Goodnight, Lisa.’

  When he had gone she wanted to cry, but couldn’t. She had cried too much already. Somehow she had to find a way to leave St Martins with Robbie, and quickly. If she could just get to St Lucia. But how? And then it came to her. She could telephone over to St Lucia and get them to send a plane for her. She could tell them that Rorke wanted it. There was a kind of bitter satisfaction to be found in letting him pay for their escape. Tomorrow she was going to the hospital to see Robbie and to find out from Dr James how long it would be before the little boy could leave, and nobody, but nobody was going to stop her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LISA was dismayed to realise how shaky she felt. Mama Case had shaken her head when she told her she was going to the hospital, but nothing she could do could dissuade her.

  Rorke had been away, down at the harbour supervising some work on Lady, so Lisa got one of the boys to drive her to the hospital.

  Robbie was cheerfully happy to see her, and kept asking about Rorke. How was he going to react when he learned that he wasn’t likely to see his father again? Would he hate her for it? After all, he was Rorke’s son, and seemed to have inherited from him Rorke’s love of St Martin’s. But she couldn’t allow Rorke to take him away from her. She just didn’t have that kind of strength.

  Dr. James explained to her that they wanted to keep Robbie in for a few days, but told her that she could come and see him as often as she wanted. ‘But what about you, lassie?’ he asked gently. ‘You’re tearing yourself apart and it isn’t doing you any good.’

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ she assured him, brushing aside his concern. The only thing that could ever make her ‘all right’ again was Rorke’s love, and she was as likely to get that as she was to fly to the moon.

  She was just leaving the hospital when she saw Rorke crossing the road towards her. She turned blindly away, not wanting to confront him again before she was able to get herself under control. The sun was shining in her eyes and she was vaguely aware of the sound of a car horn, and then
everything blurred into a mist as something seemed to hit her in the solar plexus and she collapsed, gasping for breath.

  When she came round she was back in the hospital with Dr James smiling wryly down at her.

  ‘Lassie, lassie, what were you thinking of? he chided. ‘Have you forgotten what side of the road we drive on over here?’

  She had done, Lisa realised guiltily, and she had darted across the road in her anxiety to escape Rorke, without looking properly.

  ‘I did,’ she admitted shakily. ‘Did something hit me?’

  ‘Not “something” but someone,’ Dr James told her grimly, ‘Fortunately Rorke has quick reflexes. He managed to get to you before the car did, and took the brunt of the impact. You were winded when he pushed you out of the way. He saved your life, Lisa,’ he told her quietly, with a look in his eyes that told her he saw more than she had thought.

  ‘I… is he all right?’ she asked shakily,

  ‘Apart from a nasty bruise on his thigh and a knock on the head he’s fine. But I want to keep him in for a few days—just in case there’s any delayed concussion. Funny thing, concussion.’

  ‘Yes, so I believe,’ Lisa agreed, smiling bitterly. She already knew the potentially disastrous effects of concussion. How feverishly she had read up on the effects of it in the months leading up to Robbie’s birth.

  Dr James told her she could go and see Rorke, but added that he was under sedation and so Lisa refused, offering as an excuse the fact that she wanted to get back and reassure Leigh that everything was all right before he heard a garbled and embroidered version of what had happened via the island grapevine.