Forbidden Surrender (18 page)

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Authors: Carole Mortimer

BOOK: Forbidden Surrender
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‘I’m very grateful to Dominic,’ her father continued. ‘And sorry for him too. It must be very hard for him knowing the woman he loves is going to die.’

So hard that he occasionally wanted to hold a living, breathing replica of Marie, to make love to her double knowing that she wasn’t going to die? She knew with sickening clarity that this was the reason Dominic made love to her, told her he loved her—he had wanted her to be Marie, a Marie who would live.

She licked her dry lips. ‘Will they—will they marry—before—–’

‘I have no idea,’ her father revealed heavily. ‘I haven’t interfered in their plans in any way, either the engagement or wedding plans. If they want to marry they will.’

‘But is that fair on Dominic?’ It was already obviously tearing him apart now, but if Marie became his wife …!

‘No,’ her father sighed. ‘But Dominic has a definite mind of his own.’

She knew that, but at the moment Dominic’s mind didn’t seem to be functioning rationally. Marie’s illness was filling him with a desperation that made him turn to Sara. God, the things she had said to him earlier, how he must hate her for that! No more than she hated herself!

She took a deep breath. ‘Is Marie asleep now?’

‘Mm,’ her father nodded. ‘She wanted to wait up with
me, but I wouldn’t let her. The party was strain enough for her.’

‘I’m sorry to be such a worry to you.’ Sara bit her lip.

He put his arm about her shoulders. ‘You aren’t a worry, Sara, you’re part of this family. Maybe we’re at fault for not telling you, but that was the way Marie wanted it.’

She frowned. ‘Marie didn’t want me told?’ Somehow that hurt.

‘Only because she wanted your reaction to her to be that of any sister towards another. Very few people know of her illness, only myself, Dominic, his mother—and his brother too now.’ His mouth twisted.

‘I think Danny is in love with her,’ Sara revealed huskily.

‘I know,’ her father acknowledged heavily. ‘But it won’t do him any good, Marie just isn’t interested.’

‘No.’ Dominic was Marie’s love, but Sara felt pity for Danny, knowing such an unwanted love herself, for Dominic. It seemed that both of them had lost out, that they had loved tragically.

She went to bed, but she didn’t sleep, and Marie seemed very restless too, tossing and turning in her bed. She went in to look at her once, just to make sure she wasn’t awake and in pain. Marie was asleep, but muttering constantly, actually crying out a couple of times. She looked so young and vulnerable lying there, the bright bubbly personality she showed to other people stripped from her, leaving her looking like a lost little girl.

Marie slept in late the next morning. Sara didn’t sleep at all, finally giving up to go and sit downstairs. It seemed her father was sleeping late too, and when the maid announced Dominic’s arrival she had no other choice but to receive him, her embarrassment acute as she sat up from her lying position on the sofa.

Dominic looked no more pleased to see her than she was him; his expression was forbidding. ‘Marie and your
father are still resting?’ he asked stiffly, looking very tall and attractive in navy blue trousers and a matching fitted shirt, the sleeves of the latter turned back to just below his elbows.

‘Yes,’ she answered gruffly.

‘But you didn’t feel the same need?’ There was bitter mockery in his voice.

‘I—I couldn’t sleep.’

‘Couldn’t, or wasn’t allowed to?’ Dominic scorned.

Sara was very pale, her brown eyes shadowed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You spent the night with your lover, didn’t you?’ he derided harshly.

She blushed. ‘I spent part of the night with Eddie, yes,’ she confirmed in a stilted voice. ‘But not all of it.’

‘At least your father was spared that humiliation.’ Dominic’s mouth twisted. ‘Explaining away your sudden absence wasn’t very easy, worrying about what you were doing was even harder on him.’

‘What I was doing …?’ Sara echoed in a choked voice.

‘Yes,’ he snapped tautly. ‘Spending the night with your lover wasn’t supposed to be conducive to his peace of mind, was it?’

‘Eddie wasn’t my lover—–’

‘Wasn’t?’ Dominic cut in sharply. ‘Does that mean he is now?’ He grasped her arms and shook her. ‘Does it, Sara?’

‘And if he were?’ Her eyes blazed with anger. She was exhausted from her sleepless night, crying with the pain of her sister’s illness, and aching with the love she felt towards Dominic. Just to have him touch her, even in anger like this, was an agony of pleasure almost too much to bear. She shook out of his grasp, anger her only form of defence against his overwhelming attraction. ‘What does it have to do with you?’ she asked him defiantly.

He thrust her even further away from him. ‘Not a lot,
apparently. What time did you get home? And don’t ask what that has to do with me, I just wanted to know what time Marie got to bed.’

There was silent condemnation in his glacial blue eyes, and all fight left her. ‘She was already in bed when I got home just after three,’ she told him dully.

His mouth tightened. ‘Why him, Sara?’ he ground out fiercely.

‘Why him—–? He isn’t my lover, Dominic,’ she admitted softly. ‘I just cried on his shoulder a little.’

‘You found his preferable to mine?’

She swallowed hard. ‘After what I said to you last night I doubted you would ever talk to me again. Dominic—–’

‘No more recriminations, Sara,’ he advised grimly.

‘I wasn’t going to accuse, I was going to apologise! What I said to you was unforgivable. You obviously love Marie very much, and I—I’m only sorry I can’t be her.’ She looked down at her kneading hands.

He drew a ragged breath. ‘Sara—–’

The lounge door opened noisily to admit Marie. ‘Good morning, everyone,’ she smiled. ‘Dominic!’ she reached up and kissed him. ‘Sara,’ she said more softly, gently kissing her on the cheek. ‘All right?’ She held Sara’s hands.

Tears filled Sara’s eyes at her sister’s concern, concern for
her
, when she was the one who was dangerously ill. ‘I—I’m fine,’ she choked. ‘I—Oh, God!’ she collapsed into Marie’s waiting arms, sobbing out her distress. ‘I’m sorry,’ she moved back seconds later, wiping away her tears. ‘This is the last thing you need.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Marie assured her. ‘I realise it was a shock for you.’

Sara gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Not as much as it must have been for you.’

Her sister shrugged. ‘I’ve got used to it. You will too, in time.’

‘Never!’ Sara vowed vehemently.

‘I hate to interrupt,’ Dominic said quietly, ‘but my mother is expecting us, Marie.’

‘Of course,’ she nodded, smiling.

‘You—you’re going out?’ Sara asked dazedly.

Marie moved to Dominic’s side. ‘I’m not being trite, but life has to go on. I’m lunching with Dominic’s mother.’

She nodded. ‘Of course. I—I’ll see you later, shall I?’

She knew Marie was right, life did have to go on, but for her life was limited—and it didn’t seem fair. There had to be something they could do, something
she
could do. She wouldn’t let all the life and vitality in Marie die without a fight.

Her father was still asleep, and she didn’t want to disturb him. But she wanted Simon Forrester’s address, wanted to talk to him about Marie, find out if there really was nothing that could be done for her.

She did something in that moment that she had never done before, she deliberately violated someone else’s privacy, looking through the address book on her father’s desk in his study, sure that Simon Forrester’s address would be in there, it was sure to be somewhere it could be found at all times.

The telephone number was there, but no address, so she called him instead. He might not even be in, it was a Sunday after all, and like most busy men he probably liked to relax on his day off.

The telephone rang only twice before it was picked up. ‘Forrester here,’ was barked down the telephone.

Oh dear, he didn’t sound very happy! ‘It’s Sara Hamille, Mr Forrester,’ she began tentatively.

‘Ah yes,’ his voice mellowed somewhat. ‘You want to see me, hmm?’

‘Yes,’ she answered dazedly. ‘But how did you know?’

‘I could say telepathy,’ he said in an amused voice. ‘But if I did I would be lying. Your father telephoned me last night, so I knew I would hear from you today.
Come over, my dear, and we’ll have a little chat about your sister.’

‘You’re sure I won’t be causing you any inconvenience?’

‘Not at all,’ he said warmly. ‘Come over now and we’ll have lunch together. I’ll expect you in a few minutes.’

She obtained his address and rang off. She hadn’t expected him to agree to see her so soon, but she felt grateful that he could, leaving a message with Granger that she would be out to lunch, knowing her father would worry about her when he found her gone.

Simon Forrester’s house was impressive, and surely much too big for one man. He probably had a wife and family, although he hadn’t given that impression on the telephone.

He had neither wife nor family, and lived in this big house alone. Although he didn’t look as if he spent much of his time alone; there was a roguish smile on his lips as he appraised her from head to foot.

‘Let’s go into the drawing room,’ he suggested with a smile, very casually dressed in denims and a light blue shirt, looking nothing like the famous surgeon he undoubtedly was. ‘Now, what would you like to know?’ he asked once they were both seated.

A direct man himself, Simon Forrester expected her to be equally direct. ‘I want to know what you can do to save my sister,’ she told him simply.

He raised dark eyebrows. ‘And what makes you think I can do anything?’

Her hands wrung together as she sat on the edge of her seat. ‘I just know that you can,’ she told him with feeling. ‘Don’t tell me how I know, I just do.’

Simon Forrester nodded. ‘Your father told me about this affinity you have with Marie.’

‘You don’t think it’s stupid?’

‘Not at all. It often happens with identical twins. You found several similar illnesses that occurred during your
childhood, I believe, and yet I’m sure that if you really went into this deeply you would find other similarities. You and Marie are incredibly alike.’

Even down to loving the same man! ‘Then there is something you can do for her,’ she persisted. ‘I just know there is.’

‘There is a chance—’

‘I knew it!’ Her eyes glowed, there was an air of excitement about her.

‘A chance neither your father nor Marie is willing to take,’ he finished.

Sara frowned. ‘I don’t understand. Surely any chance is better than none at all?’

Simon Forrester was deadly serious now, his flirtatious air completely gone. ‘Not when there’s a chance you could be dead, or as good as.’

She went white. ‘You mean—–’

He stood up to pace the room, as if impatient with his own inability to bring a happy ending to Marie’s suffering. ‘The brain is the most sensitive organ in the body, the slightest mistake with that and—well, any number of things could happen, and do.’

‘You mean she could be paralysed?’

‘Or have permanent brain damage,’ he nodded.

‘Oh, God!’ She felt sick. Hope had been given to her only to be taken away again.

‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘It isn’t much of a choice, is it?’

‘No.’ She swallowed hard, and stood up. ‘I think I should be on my way now. I—Thank you for giving me your time.’ She couldn’t even begin to think about eating lunch now, and she knew Simon Forrester sensed that, as he did not press her at all.

His expression was full of compassion. ‘I wish there were some sort of guarantee I could give you that I could bring Marie through an operation of this kind, but unfortunately that isn’t possible. Marie claims she would rather die than be imperfect in that way. In a way I can understand that—brain damage, of any kind,
isn’t like losing an arm or a leg.’

Sara was very depressed when she arrived home, although she did her best to put on a brave face for her father.

When Dominic suddenly arrived home with Marie, a Marie obviously in agony, both Sara and her father helped to get her to her room.

‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’ she kept groaning.

‘What happened?’ their father asked Dominic anxiously once they had got Marie into bed in her darkened room, leaving her as she seemed to drift off into a restless sleep.

Dominic paced up and down the lounge. ‘Apparently the pain started in the night—–’

‘I thought so,’ Sara sighed. ‘She was very restless,’ she explained. ‘I—I went in and sat with her for a while.’

‘She didn’t tell anyone because she didn’t want us to worry,’ Dominic continued harshly. ‘She finally half collapsed with the pain just after lunch.’

‘This can’t go on.’ Sara’s father shook his head. ‘Just lately the headaches have become worse, more frequent, with much more pain. I—Oh, God, I’m afraid we’re going to lose her!’

‘No!’ Sara denied shrilly. ‘There’s the operation.’

Dominic sighed heavily. ‘Marie says no.’

‘But we can’t just let her die!’

He put a hand up to his temple. ‘I’ve tried to talk her into having the operation, but she won’t even listen to me.’

‘Then maybe she’ll listen to me,’ Sara told him fiercely. ‘I won’t let her die without putting up a fight!’

‘Marie isn’t you, Sara,’ Dominic said softly. ‘You would fight, Marie would rather die than risk being paralysed or retarded.’

‘That isn’t true,’ she denied harshly. ‘Do you know how terrified she is of dying? Death petrifies her, gives her nightmares. In fact, I’m sure it’s this fear that triggers
off half of her headaches.’

‘She told you about—about this fear?’ her father rasped.

‘Yes.’

‘Then I want you to try and persuade her to have the operation. I think if anyone can do it you can.’

She hesitated. ‘Dominic?’

He looked at her with tormented eyes. ‘I agree with your father, you’re the only person who might be able to do it.’

‘Then I’ll try.’

‘Thank you.’ He squeezed her hand.

She had to try and save her sister, even if it meant losing any chance of ever being able to have Dominic herself. There could never be any happiness for her with Dominic anyway; she could always only ever be Marie’s substitute.

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