The Hidden Years

by Penny Jordan

  They were occupying a villa belonging to a friend of Lewis's and they were to spend a month here, getting to know one another 'as a family', as Lewis had put it.

  Sage had only been able to marvel at the patience and wisdom of her unknown sister-in-law, Scott's wife, who had had the understanding and the strength of character to refuse Scott's request for her to join them. Sage had spoken to her by telephone and she had explained to Sage that she believed that the four of them needed this special time together.

  'I'm looking forward to meeting you, Sage. But you and Scott and your parents have a lot of private catching up to go through. There'll be time for us later… I know Scott's hoping that you and your mother will come out to us for a long holiday… And of course Faye and Camilla will be welcome as well.'

  But that was for the future… For now it was just the four of them. Four people tied by bonds of love and blood, who in so many ways were all strangers to one another.

  Sage had witnessed the love between her parents…had seen it and recognised it; had been aware of the love Scott felt for his wife, and, despite the happiness she had found in being with these closest members of the family, the joy she had known in at last coming close to her mother, in at last knowing that she had been loved— greatly loved, more loved than she had ever deserved to be—she felt there was still something missing, still a part of her that ached and yearned… There was still Daniel.

  'I was just thinking,' she murmured…

  'About Daniel Cavanagh,' her mother guessed shrewdly. There were no secrets between them now…no need for Liz to conceal any longer the great welling up of love she felt for this, the child Lewis had given her. The child who was so much Lewis's. Gently she pushed the hair off Sage's face, so that she could look at her. 'You love him very much, don't you?'

  'Too much,' Sage acknowledged drily. 'Even if he were to love me in return, which he doesn't, I don't know if I'd ever feel happy in that kind of relationship… with that kind of intensity. It makes one so vulnerable.'

  'You should never be frightened of love, Sage,' Liz told her gently.

  Sage smiled at her. 'Weren't there ever times when you wished you had not loved my father?'

  'No,' Liz told her truthfully. 'Because if I hadn't loved him I would never have conceived you. I wanted to be with him, of course, and I was desperately concerned for Scott… Edward allowed me to receive one letter a year from your father, reporting on Scott's progress, and your father was generous enough to make sure that I knew that Scott was growing up healthily and happily. And of course I had you, my precious, wonderful daughter, who was so much her father's child. I was so frightened that Edward would see how much I loved you—that he would insist on separating us…'.

  'I know,' Sage told her unsteadily, tears filling her eyes as she marvelled at her mother's courage… her steadfastness, her ability to cope with what must have been the most appalling burden of loneliness and fear.

  'We'll soon be going home,' Liz reminded her. 'Only another few days.'

  'And then you and Dad will cause a riot when you announce that you're getting married. I'm still not sure that I'll be able to cope… with Cottingdean and the mill.'

  'You'll cope,' Liz assured her warmly.

  'But ultimately Cottingdean must go to Camilla.'

  'Yes,' her mother agreed. 'She is, after all, a Danvers, and I did promise Edward…'

  'I don't mind,' Sage assured her, knowing that once she would have done—once the knowledge that her niece, no matter how much she loved her, was to inherit the home which she had always felt had somehow rejected her would have hurt unbearably, opening old wounds, recalling old hurts, reinforcing her belief that she was unloved.

  'I know you don't.'

  'Do you mind—leaving it all, I mean, after all these years?'

  'Yes and no… I've achieved as much as I can. It's time that younger, firmer hands took up the reins of control. I was never more than a caretaker for Cottingdean: it knew it and so did I. In some ways Lewis was right when he accused me of wanting Cottingdean more than I wanted him. I didn't want it more than him, and I certainly didn't love it more, but it needed me. Just as Edward needed me, and, perhaps foolishly, I allowed myself to think that I was indispensable… irreplaceable.'

  'You were… you are,' Sage assured her. 'I'm still not sure that I—'

  'You'll cope… Come on. Lewis and Scott will be wondering what on earth we're doing…'

  'You mean that Dad misses you madly every time you're out of his sight for more than ten minutes,' Sage teased her. How well she understood this man who was her father. How well she now understood so much more of herself, of her own emotions and motivations. This time with her mother, her father and her brother was something she would always cherish, a special learning, sharing time which all of them had needed, a special bonding time which had brought them together as a family… a unit. She was delighted that her parents were going to marry. She was delighted that Scott was so happy in his marriage. And yet… and yet despite her happiness she felt alone.

  Daniel… It all came back to Daniel… Daniel, whom she loved and who would never love her. What was she doing to herself? Was she deliberately recreating the feeling of rejection, of alienation, of loving hopelessly and helplessly, that she had done with Edward, with her mother, with Scott? It was a depressing thought, and one she did not want to dwell on.

  They flew home four days later. Her parents were going to marry, quietly and quickly. It would take a month or so for all the ends to be tied up… for her mother to finally sever her bonds with Cottingdean. But at the end of that time she would be flying out to Australia, to rejoin Scott and his family, and she would be flying out with her new husband… her lover… the father of her two adult children.

  Heathrow was busy, crowded with travellers and their families. Faye had come to meet them, along with Camilla. Camilla had an air of suppressed excitement about her. She kept looking at Sage and grinning at her. She, of all of them, seemed to have accepted the changes in' their lives the most easily, readily welcoming Scott and Lewis into her family.

  Between the welcoming hugs and kisses she told Sage that her mother had been dating Alaric Ferguson. 'He's crazy about her,' she told Sage with a grin. 'Absolutely nuts about her.'

  'And do you like him?' Sage asked her niece.

  'He's OK,' she said casually. But Sage could tell that she was quite happy with her mother's new relationship. Everyone, it seemed, was happy. Everyone contented and fulfilled. Everyone but her… and then she looked up, and it seemed as though her heart stopped beating.

  Daniel was standing less than five yards away from her…just standing there, watching her. She stared back, looking at him with hungry, vulnerable eyes, looking at him as though he had suddenly materialised out of empty space. Daniel… What was he doing here? Where was he going? She looked wildly around her. He wasn't standing in any kind of queue. He wasn't carrying any luggage. Her mother was standing beside her. She gave her a little push.

  'Go to him, Sage,' she told her.

  Go to him? She opened her mouth to protest, and looked round to discover that her mother and the rest of her family seemed to have disappeared. A wild sensation of having strayed into an unreal world overtook her. She discovered that she couldn't take her eyes off Daniel's face, that she couldn't do anything other than stand there and then stare at him. He wasn't moving. He was looking back at her, watching, waiting…

  Go to him, her mother had said… Go to him. She took a step forwards and then another, and suddenly she was in his arms.

  'Daniel… Daniel…' The taste of his name mingled with the taste of her tears.

  'At last,' she heard him saying roughly. 'At last… Damn you, Sage. Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say my name like that—do you?' he demanded, almost shaking her.

  'Say it like what?' she asked huskily, while her hands flexed lovingly against his back, absorbing the sensation of his flesh beneath her fingertips… the warmth
and reality of him, the maleness. 'Like what?' she repeated dreamily, unaware of the amused and curious glances they were attracting from other travellers.

  'As if you'd suddenly discovered you couldn't live without me. As if it tasted of heaven… as if you were handing me your heart and committing yourself to me for the rest of your life…'

  'Oh, is that all?' she murmured provocatively. 'I thought you were going to say I said it as though I loved you…'

  'And do you?' he demanded when he'd finished kissing her.

  'Do I what?'

  'Do you love me?'

  'Does it matter?'

  'More than anything else in this life,' he told her simply. 'I love you, Sage. I want to marry you… I want to spend the rest of my life with you…'

  After she had assured him that his feelings were well and truly reciprocated, she asked him, 'How did you know we'd be flying back today?'

  'Faye told me…I've been pestering the life out of her, but she finally only gave way when I told her how much I love you. She's one tough lady, that sister-in-law of yours.'

  'Yes, she is, isn't she?' Sage agreed with a smile.

  'Well, will you marry me, Sage? Will you commit yourself to me?'

  She smiled at him, the smile of a sophisticated, knowledgeable woman, but it was the child who looked out of her eyes at him—the child who had known so much rejection, so much pain, the child on the brink of womanhood who had offered herself to him once before, as she was offering herself to him now, when she said seductively, 'I'm not sure. We know so little about one another, Daniel… even sexually.'

  'You want us to be lovers now!'

  'Only if you do,' she told him unsteadily. And he knew she was remembering that other time she had offered him this gift of her body, of herself, and of how he had rejected it.

  'Come with me,' he invited her. 'Come with me, Sage, and let me show you how much…'

  It was better than she had expected… better than anything she had experienced before. Not because Daniel was a skilled lover, not even because their bodies were so physically attuned that each caress they shared heightened their pleasure to exquisite levels. No, it was because she loved him and because she knew he loved her in turn that it was so special, Sage recognised… because for the first time in her life she was experiencing not just physical pleasure, but emotional security.

  'I love you, Daniel Cavanagh,' she whispered into the musky sweatiness of his skin, as he closed his arms round her. It amused her how much pleasure it gave her to say the words. She was like a teenager…an adolescent in love for the first time, made drunk with the intoxication of it.

  'Mmm… I love you too,' Daniel whispered back, and then added gently, 'You're the first woman I've ever wanted to hold in my arms all through the night. The only woman I've ever wanted to love.'

  'Liar,' Sage derided him sleepily. 'You never wanted to love me…'

  'Not at first,' he agreed. 'I fought like hell against what I knew was happening to me.'

  'We both did. But the fighting's over now.'

  She felt his body shaking and tensed until she realised he was laughing.

  'Do you honestly believe that?' he asked her. 'We'll fight all our lives, Sage. And we'll love each other all our lives as well. Loving, fighting, sharing. We were meant to be together, you and I. Only we were both too stupid to admit it.'

  'I love you, Daniel, and I never thought I'd say that to any man…'

  'Much less me… is that it?'

  'Much less you,' Sage agreed. 'Funny how things turn out, isn't it?'

  'Hilarious,' Daniel agreed, kissing her tenderly. 'I love you, Sage—no matter what else might change in our lives, that never will.'

  'No,' she agreed, and as she looked at him she knew that it was true. His love for her would always be there, supporting her, cherishing her, fulfilling her. She traced the shape of his mouth with her finger and then kissed him. Against his mouth she murmured indistinctly, 'Daniel, do you think I ought to start keeping a diary?'

  'Not if you mean to start writing it right at this moment, I don't,' he told her, drawing her against him. 'Not right at this moment.'

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN