by Anne Mather
‘How are you?’ he asked at last, lowering his lips to her forehead and allowing his tongue to caress the moist flesh. ‘Have you missed me? Lie, if you have to, but don’t tell me you haven’t.’
‘Oh, Michael…’ With a sob she collapsed against him, burying her face against the hair-roughened skin of his chest, exposed now that she had unbuttoned his shirt. ‘Michael, why did you come here? Don’t you know this is the cruellest thing you could do to me? I—I tried to keep it simple, but you—you’ve complicated everything. Why did you do it? Why did you do it?’
‘Hey!’ His fingers found her chin and forced it upwards, making her look at him through the tear-drenched veil of her lashes. ‘I came here because I love you, because I suspected you—loved me.’ His eyes bored into hers, dark and passionate. ‘You do, don’t you? Oh, Sara, you fool! You crazy fool! Did you really think your condition would change the way I felt?’
Sara sniffed. ‘It does. It has to. Michael, I don’t have the right to marry anyone.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ His hands cupped her face with painful intensity. ‘Sara, I am going to marry you, believe me. And I don’t care what nonsense Diane has filled your head with.’
‘Diane?’ Sara was dazed, looking up at him. ‘What else did she tell you?’
‘What else?’ His brows descended. ‘Diane told me nothing, Sara. Nothing! She let me go on thinking you had asthma, guessing, I suppose, that I was less likely to come looking for you if I was convinced there was nothing seriously wrong with you. What a blessing my ego wouldn’t let me believe her!’
‘But—’ Sara couldn’t believe it. ‘She—she said—’
‘Yes?’ He was impatient. ‘What did she say? I should have guessed she’d contact you.’
‘She—she did.’ Sara licked her dry lips. ‘She—told me that you—that you’d been—well, shocked, when you learned that I—that I—’
‘God! The bitch!’ Michael swore angrily. ‘What else did she tell you? Did she explain that she wouldn’t give me your address? That I had to find out where you worked from the man who broke up my half-brother’s marriage?’
‘Lance?’ Sara was shocked. ‘But—but—’
‘I went to see him,’ stated Michael flatly. ‘I hoped he might know you, and then I found out he was your father’s cousin or something, and he knew as much about you as Diane did.’ He sighed ruefully. ‘He was quite decent, actually. I was prepared to detest the man, but I couldn’t. I guess he must be a little like you. At any rate, I found him quite charming, and more than a little concerned about you after I explained what Diane had done.’
‘You—explained?’ Sara was wide-eyed, and Michael nodded without contrition.
‘Why not? She was prepared to sacrifice you without compunction. I told him a few home truths, and he seemed very receptive to what I had to say.’
‘Oh, Michael!’
‘Don’t “oh, Michael” me in that rueful way. That woman has ruined one life already, and would have been quite willing to ruin two more. Why should I feel sorry for her? Anyway,’ his lips twitched a little, ‘you might not feel so sympathetic towards her if I tell you she wouldn’t have been averse to my taking up where Adam left off.’
Sara gasped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘What do you think I mean?’
‘You didn’t—’
‘No, I didn’t,’ he agreed reassuringly, bending his head to part her lips with his. ‘Mmm, jealousy tastes so sweet!’
Sara trembled, but her arms were around his waist, and she did not draw back when his kiss hardened into passion. She was giving up so much, she thought despairingly. Surely she had the right to take this small consolation.
‘So…’ he muttered at last, his voice thickened with emotion. ‘Where was I? Oh, yes…’ He blinked, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. ‘As I say, I spoke to Wilmer, and he was very enlightening. Apparently he knew all about your condition right from the beginning, and he explained about your getting rheumatic fever when you were a baby, and how the valve was narrowed and how it won’t close properly.’ He pressed her closer, as if the nearness of his body could act as a protection against the dangers of congestive heart disease. ‘He was very sympathetic, and if it’s any consolation to you, he gave us his blessing.’
‘Michael…’ Sara tried to pull away from him then, but he wouldn’t let her go. ‘Michael, this doesn’t make any difference—’
‘Like hell it doesn’t!’ he snapped, and then more wearily: ‘Okay, okay. Let me finish. There’s more, if you insist on hearing it.’
‘More?’
‘Yes, more.’ Michael’s face was drawn now. ‘Wilmer told me something else. Something you may or may not know about.’
‘What?’
Michael sighed. ‘Apparently—apparently, after you’d recovered from that attack of rheumatic fever, your mother became absurdly protective. She kept you with her whenever she could, and never allowed you to do anything that might endanger your health.’ Sara nodded. ‘That’s right, she did. But she was only thinking of me.’
‘Was she?’ Michael’s mouth pulled down at the corners. ‘Did you know, when you were ten years old, she was approached by the specialist who had treated you when you were a baby? Apparently the advances in heart surgery were such that he—the specialist—considered that it might be possible to operate and correct the narrowing of the valve, even install an artificial valve if necessary.’
‘No!’ Sara gulped. ‘I don’t believe it. She would have told me.’
‘Not necessarily. You were only ten years old, remember? The person she did discuss it with was your doctor.’
‘Doctor Harding?’
‘Harding. Yes, that’s right.’ Michael paused. ‘He recommended against it, and your mother was only too willing to agree.’
‘Doctor Harding recommended against it?’
Michael nodded. ‘Yes. From what I can gather, he doesn’t care much for modern technology.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Wilmer told me. He went to see him yesterday. He’d also spoken to the surgeon at St Oliver’s.’
‘St Oliver’s?’ Sara frowned. ‘But that’s the hospital where—where—’
‘—where you were treated when you had rheumatic fever? I know. The specialist who treated you has retired now, but the man Wilmer spoke to is the present consultant.’
Sara was bewildered. ‘But why did Lance go to St Oliver’s? Why did he speak to Doctor Harding? I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t you?’ Michael sighed. ‘No, well, I didn’t want him to do it. But he seemed to think it was worth the effort.’
‘What effort?’ Sara’s voice was faint. ‘You mean there might be some chance that I could have this operation now?’
Michael hesitated, obviously reluctant to go on. ‘Operations are risky things,’ he muttered harshly. ‘Why can’t you accept that I love you just the way you are?’
‘Michael!’ Sara’s features were taut now. ‘Please. You have to tell me the truth. If Lance has found something out…’
‘Lance isn’t involved, Sara. We are.’
‘Michael!’
‘Oh, all right, all right. Livingstone—the surgeon, that is—he believes he might be able to help you.’
Sara gasped. ‘Oh, Michael!’
‘That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?’ He thrust her away from him then, and paced heavily across the room. ‘It doesn’t matter to you how I feel, only that you should satisfy whatever devil there is inside you that demands the complete sacrifice! This is open-heart surgery, we’re talking about, Sara! Not pulling a tooth. And Doctor Harding is still of the opinion that so long as you don’t do anything foolish, you could lead a perfectly reasonable life—’
‘A reasonable life, yes,’ Sara interrupted him. ‘Michael, can’t you see what this means to me? It may be an opportunity to lead a normal life, not a reasonable one. I love you, you know that: I can’t deny it. But marrying yo
u—it wouldn’t be fair. To either of us.’
‘And what about me?’ he asked flatly. ‘Where do I stand? Condemned to two impossible choices. Either I accept that you must take this chance, and in so doing accept the risk too—or I lose you, because of some hare-brained belief you have that you’ll be a burden to me.’ He pushed back his hair with hands that she saw were shaking a little. ‘I don’t know that I can take it. Oh, when Wilmer first started talking about an operation, I admit I was impressed. But I soon changed my mind when we began to discuss the difficulties involved. I didn’t even want him to make enquiries, but—well, I had to have some reason for contacting you again, so I let him go ahead. There were things I had to do anyway. Isabella was wanting to know where I was and what I was doing, and I had to go out there and explain the situation to her, and by the time I got back, Wilmer had contacted Livingstone, and you know the rest.’ He made a weary gesture. ‘He’d have come here himself to see you, if I hadn’t agreed to tell you.’
Sara trembled. ‘But you don’t think he was right?’
‘I think—I feel—that what we have is more important than what may result from some miracle cure,’ he replied quietly. ‘All right, so you can’t swim the Channel or run up a mountain! So what? People have been known to survive without doing either of those things. And quite happily, too. From what I hear, you’ve got a hell of a better chance than most, and the idea of putting your life in jeopardy for purely—selfish reasons—’
‘Selfish?’
‘Who else are you considering?’ he demanded harshly, and suddenly there was no doubt in her mind about what she really wanted.
‘And—you’d marry me knowing—knowing—’
‘I love you!’ he ground out angrily. ‘Goddammit, I wish I didn’t!’
‘Oh, Michael…’
With a little sob she covered the space between them, throwing her arms around him and pressing her body close to his. ‘Darling, darling Michael! We’re going to be so happy together.’
‘What do you mean?’
Incredulity still showed in his expression as she lifted her face to his and touched his cheek with adoring fingers. ‘I’ll marry you, Michael. Whenever you say. Tomorrow, if you like. I—I only wanted to make you happy, you see. I’ve lived with this for so long now, but you—you’re so strong and healthy, and I thought—oh, I thought if I was well again—’
But her mouth was silenced by the pressure of his, and for a long time there was no sound at all.
* * *
They were to be married two weeks later. It was to be a quiet wedding, with few guests, but Michael’s great-aunt had promised to make the journey from Coimbra, and Sara’s happiness was complete.
Then, a few days before the wedding, she had a telephone call from Lance Wilmer. He had been out of the country, Michael had told her, probably with Diane, she realised now, but he had returned to represent her side of the family at the small church in Kensington where she was to be married. He seemed delighted that she was to find happiness at last, but disappointed that she had not gone to see Livingstone.
‘Is that wise, Sara?’ he demanded, rekindling the doubts she thought she had succeeded in burying. ‘Why don’t you at least hear what he has to say? I can make the arrangements—tomorrow, if necessary. Sara, you owe it to yourself.’
Sara shifted her weight from one foot to the other rather uneasily. She was glad Michael was not there to see her indecision. Was she always to know this uncertainty where her health was concerned? How could she agree to something she had promised to forget?
‘I’m sorry, Lance,’ she said at last. ‘It was kind of you to go to all that trouble, but it’s not what Michael wants, and I love him too much to risk hurting him again.’
Lance protested again, as she had known he would, but she was adamant, and at last he had to give up. She heard Michael letting himself into the flat with the key she had given him, as she replaced her receiver, and was glad he had not had to hear her refusal. She loved him too much to want to spoil these days before their wedding.
The following afternoon Michael had a surprise for her, however.
‘There’s someone that I want you to meet,’ was all he would say, helping her into the Mini, and she pulled a curious face when he wouldn’t be drawn.
But her curiosity was dispelled by other emotions, when he drove through the gates of St Oliver’s Hospital, and she turned worried eyes in his direction when he parked the car near the specialised heart unit.
‘Michael…’
Her mouth was dry and anxious, as she turned to him, but she saw none of the censure in his face she had expected to see.
‘I heard what you said to Wilmer yesterday,’ he explained gently. ‘You thought I came back as you were finishing the call, but I didn’t. I heard it all.’
‘Then you’ll know—’
‘I know that I’ll have no peace of mind until you’re examined by an expert. Until I can satisfy myself that what we’re doing is right.’
‘But Michael—’
‘See him. Do this, for me. Then we’ll talk about it, shall we?’
Sara had no choice but to obey, but she walked into the hospital on shaky legs. There was so much she would have liked to say, but there was no time now.
The examination Mr Livingstone subjected her to was extremely thorough. Aware of Michael, sitting in the waiting room, fretting over what might be going to happen, Sara wondered how she could ever have doubted his feelings for her. She knew what a traumatic experience this must be for him. At least she was there, she knew what was going on, whereas Michael had to suffer alone.
It took a long time, or at least that was how it seemed to Sara, but at last Mr Livingstone seemed satisfied with his investigations. After she was dressed again and facing him across the width of his leather-topped desk, he sat for several minutes just looking at her. Then he said quietly:
‘Naturally I would have preferred an overnight examination, to give me time to do further tests. But from what I’ve learned in this short time, I would say you were in reasonably good shape.’
‘I am?’
Sara caught her breath as he nodded.
‘Yes. Amazingly so, considering.’
‘Oh.’ Sara didn’t know what else to say, and he smiled.
‘You do know you’re pregnant, don’t you?’
Sara gasped. ‘No.’
‘I’m afraid so.’ His tone was dry. ‘About six weeks, I would say. Would you agree with that?’ Sara did not know how to answer him. Her discussion with Michael about a hypothetical pregnancy had never really troubled her, but now she realised it could be so.
‘But—I thought—’
‘You didn’t expect it?’ Mr Livingstone shrugged. ‘Why not? Your reproductive organs are just as efficient as anyone else’s.’ He paused. ‘You’re getting married in a few days, aren’t you?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘Don’t you want a baby?’
Sara clasped her hands. ‘Oh, yes!’
‘Ah.’ Mr Livingstone seemed to understand. ‘You’re concerned because of your health. Well, I don’t think you need to be, so long as you are well cared for. I believe you’ll be living in Portugal. As it happens, I know a doctor who works at the university hospital in Lisbon. I can arrange for him to take care of you while you’re pregnant. If you wish.’
Sara licked her lips. ‘And—and the operation…’
‘Out of the question, at this time.’ He shifted the papers on his desk. ‘But don’t worry. Come back and see me after your baby’s born. That is, if you still want to.’ He smiled again. ‘Don’t look so pleased about it. If all my patients were like you, I’d soon be out of a job!’
Sara could tell from Michael’s face that waiting had put a terrific strain on him, and once they were in the car again she was eager to put his mind at rest.
‘There’s to be no operation,’ she told him gently, touching his cheek with loving fingers. ‘But thank you for th
is. You don’t know what it means to me.’
Michael captured her hand with his, pulling it to his lips and pressing his face into her palm. Then he lifted tormented eyes to hers. ‘Why?’ he demanded huskily. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said I was in pretty good shape,’ declared Sara lightly, nestling closer. ‘Particularly so, for a pregnant lady.’
‘What!’ Michael gazed at her disbelievingly. ‘Oh—Lord, no!’
‘Yes.’ Sara could understand his anxiety, but she was quick to allay it. ‘What’s more, he says there’s absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t have a baby. And he’s going to put me in touch with a colleague of his at the hospital in Lisbon, and he’ll take over all the necessary treatment.’
Michael shook his head. ‘But I thought—oh, Sara, do you really want to go through with this?’
Sara nodded. Then she said hesitantly: ‘Why? You do want the baby, don’t you?’
Michael’s laughter was choked. ‘Oh, darling, you know I want whatever you want. And I can think of nothing more delightful than having a daughter like you. But—’
‘No buts.’ Sara was rather smug. ‘To think, I have Diane to thank for this really. I wonder what her reactions will be when she finds out?’
‘I wouldn’t put it past her to have persuaded Wilmer to come back here and talk to you,’ retorted Michael dourly. ‘But, as it happens, she did us both a favour.’
‘Mmm.’ Sara’s eyes were tender as they rested on him. ‘At least now I know I’m not just a helpless invalid, incapable of being a real wife to you.’
‘Oh, Sara!’ Michael tapped her nose with a teasing finger. ‘I never had any doubts on that score!’ and her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink as he started the motor of the car.
ISBN-13: 9781460346037