Sarah's Secret (8 page)

There were instant demands to see photographs, and exclamations over the child’s extraordinary likeness to Sarah now she was growing up.

‘We all feel a bit proprietary about Davy, Jake,’ Nick explained. ‘We’ve known her since she was in her buggy.’

‘I envy you that,’ said Jake quietly.

‘She’s a poppet,’ said Grania, and smiled proudly. ‘Talking of which, guess what, folks?’ She paused dramatically. ‘We’re hoping to achieve something similar ourselves by Christmas!’

The stop-press news brought a flood of congratulations and kisses all round, then Nick looked at his watch and blenched, instantly transformed into panicking bridegroom mode.

‘Sorry, must dash. Promised to collect my brother from the station. Coming, Paul? See you all in church.’ Looking harassed, he thrust a hand through his dark curly hair, thanked everyone for the gifts, then hurried off with Paul.

‘Poor dear,’ said Frances, shaking her head. ‘I thought women suffered bridal nerves, not laid-back people like Nick.’

‘Ben was just the same,’ said Grania, and sighed deeply. ‘Oh, dear. I hope he comes back with good news.’

‘So do I,’ said Sarah, then turned to Jake. ‘Perhaps we’d better check in.’

‘Right. I’ll bring the luggage in.’ He smiled warmly at Frances and Grania. ‘Good to meet you. I’ll see you later.’

After he’d gone out to the car Sarah’s one-time housemates pounced on her.

‘Does this mean you’re going to give Davy a daddy at last?’ asked Grania eagerly.

Sarah shook her head, flushing. ‘We’re just friends.’

‘Pull the other one, ducky,’ said Frances, laughing. ‘The man’s obviously nuts about you—and not at all happy to see Nick cuddling you, either.’

‘Stop it, Fran,’ said Grania, who had always been the one to look out for Sarah most in the past. ‘You’re making her blush. But Jake’s definitely a charmer. Have you known him long?’

‘Not very long,’ said Sarah, smiling as she saw Jake beckon from the foyer. ‘I must dash.’

‘I’m famished, as always by this time of day,’ said Grania, patting her middle. ‘So when you’re settled in come back down and have a snack lunch with us, Sarah. Ben and Tom should surely be back by then.’

‘Love to. See you later.’

Sarah hurried from the bar to take her hatbox from Jake. ‘Could we talk somewhere before checking in?’ she muttered in his ear.

‘Yes, of course. There’s a sofa over there.’ He gave her a searching look. ‘Sit down. Tell me what’s wrong, and what I can do to help.’

She smiled gratefully. ‘Jake, what sort of room did you book?’

To her astonishment he looked embarrassed. ‘You’ll laugh.’

‘Of course I won’t. Did they put you in the broom closet, or something?’

‘Quite the reverse. They let me have the spanking new bridal suite. Not required by your friend and his bride, obviously.’ He shrugged. ‘It was that or nothing.’

‘You’re joking! What on earth does it cost?’ she said, giggling.

‘Don’t ask.’ He took her hand. ‘So tell me, what’s your problem, Sarah, and how can I solve it for you?’

She sighed. ‘It’s just that Grania’s pregnant.’

Jake nodded. ‘And you’re worried at the idea of her sleeping in the car.’

‘Exactly. I feel guilty because I booked a double room, and heaven knows what size yours is. It seems so awful not to hand one of them over, but—’

‘There’s obviously more, so spit it out.’

Sarah looked at him in appeal. ‘This sounds stupid, but even if you agree to let me share with you I don’t want the world to know we originally booked separate rooms.’

Jake’s eyes gleamed. ‘Run that past me again. You actually want to share with me?’

‘So Grania can have my room, yes,’ she said impatiently. ‘There must be a sofa I can sleep on?’

‘You’d better hope so,’ he said, after a pause, ‘because any bridal suite worth the name is certain to have a double bed.’

‘I realise that. Would you mind sharing with me?’

Jake let out a deep breath, a wry twist to his lips. ‘No, Sarah. I wouldn’t mind at all. But are you sure about this?’

‘Of course I’m sure. So what do we do?’

‘Tell the receptionist we double-booked by mistake, and to pass your room on to your friend without men
tioning you,’ said Jake promptly. ‘What’s Grania’s surname again?’

‘Forrester.’

‘Right. Wait here.’

Jake crossed the hall to the reception desk, and Sarah looked on, impressed, while the Hogan charm went into overdrive as he explained the apparent mistake. The young woman behind the desk listened with rapt attention, then nodded with enthusiasm, smiling warmly at Jake. She sent an envious, dewy-eyed look in Sarah’s direction, and went off towards the bar.

‘What on earth did you say?’ whispered Sarah, when Jake rejoined her.

‘That I’d booked the bridal suite as a special surprise for you, unaware that you’d already made a reservation. And don’t worry, I emphasised that you were not only anxious that Mrs Forrester should have yours, but wanted the arrangement kept secret to avoid any embarrassment.’

‘What embarrassment?’

‘I gave her a mysterious smile and didn’t specify. It seemed to go down well.’

‘It must have. I think she’s already gone to find Grania. Better make ourselves scarce.’

Crammed into the small lift with their luggage, Sarah suddenly broke up with laughter, and Jake sagged against the wall, joining in.

‘I would have been hopeless as a spy!’ he said, when he could get his breath. ‘It was hard to keep a straight face when I was doing my bit with the receptionist.’

‘But doing it so
well
,’ mocked Sarah, as the doors opened on the top floor.

‘Just for you,’ he reminded her.

‘What’s the room number?’ she asked, as they went out into a corridor.

‘We haven’t arrived yet,’ said Jake, leading the way past closed doors. ‘We foot it the rest of the way, up those stairs at the end.’

Intrigued, Sarah followed him up to a landing, where it was immediately obvious which room was theirs because there was only one door.

‘Former attic bedrooms now converted into bridal suite,’ said Jake. He put down the bags and unlocked the door.

Sarah went ahead of him into a long, light-filled room, her eyes drawn instantly to a tester bed with filmy white drapes. She looked away quickly, concentrating on the décor instead. ‘Well, well,’ she said, as Jake closed the door behind him. ‘You should feel right at home here.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s like your flat. Pale colours, white bed. Almost minimalist. Not everyone’s idea of a bridal suite.’

‘Which it isn’t tonight,’ Jake said with regret.

‘True.’ Sarah laid her hatbox and garment bag on a narrow settle grouped with a pair of chairs and a table under one of the windows. ‘Where do I hang my things?’

Jake went over to a series of brass handles let into one wall and pulled on one to discover a wardrobe. ‘And over there,’ he added, pointing to a door in the other wall, ‘must be the bathroom.’

Because she was the one who’d asked to share Sarah did her best to hide any awkwardness. ‘Right,’ she said briskly. ‘Grania asked us to join them for a snack lunch when we’re ready.’

‘Good, I’m hungry,’ said Jake, unzipping the cover from his morning coat. ‘I’ll just hang this up, then I’ll
leave you to sort out your gear. I’ll wait for you in the bar.’

Sarah smiled at him with gratitude. ‘Thank you, Jake. This is very good of you.’

‘A beautiful woman asks to share my room and it’s good of me to agree?’ Jake shook his head, his eyes gleaming. ‘If I
were
good I’d offer to give the room up to you and sleep in the car, Sarah. But I can’t see that happening, somehow. Don’t be long, and don’t forget to bring the key with you,’ he added, and left her alone.

Afraid that her solution to Grania’s problem was likely to cause quite a few for herself, one way and another, Sarah hung her dress away, pleased to see that it had survived without creasing. She unpacked her bag, then opened the door into the bathroom. And laughed out loud. Mirror-tiled walls reflected opulence the exact opposite of the bedroom’s restraint. The interior designer had gone overboard with gold dolphins. They were inlaid in the glass housing the shower, frolicked on the filmy curtains at the window, and accessed water to the sunken circular tub. Several more held up shelves laden with every bathtime luxury a guest could possibly need, and they even bordered fluffy white towels piled on a gilt chair. Everything your average sybarite could possibly want, thought Sarah, amused.

She washed her face, touched it up again, then went back into the bedroom. But no sofa had materialised by magic in the meantime. Not counting the small, decorative settle under the window, and the sunken tub in the bathroom, the only place to sleep was the ineluctably bridal bed.

T
HERE
was an air of celebration in the bar when Sarah joined the others. Tom Hill and Ben Forrester made a great fuss of her, while Grania, euphoric with relief, gave the news that there had been a cancellation after all.

‘So Grania won’t have to sleep in the car,’ Jake said, smiling at Sarah as he seated her beside him.

‘Thank God,’ said Ben fervently. ‘I’m pretty damn relieved myself, I can tell you. We went right through the list we were given, plus a few more places we found on the way, but no luck.’ He gave a rueful look at his wife. ‘I don’t mind telling you, I dreaded breaking the news when I got back.’

‘But he didn’t have to because miracles do happen sometimes after all,’ said Grania, elated. ‘I can hardly believe our luck.’

‘Is the room comfortable?’ said Sarah, avoiding Jake’s eye.

‘Small and basic, but compared with the alternative it’s utter luxury!’

‘By the way, Tom, I told Grania you could sleep in the car, and she could share with me if the worst came to the worst,’ Frances told her husband, then laughed with everyone else at the comical dismay on his face.

‘Of course I’d have done that,’ he said loftily, then grinned. ‘But I’m bloody glad I don’t have to.’

Sarah was happy to be among the friends she rarely saw these days. And it was a double bonus to find that Jake not only blended effortlessly into the group, but had
gained much approval for his forethought in ordering pots of coffee and an enormous platter of assorted sandwiches for the lunch everyone needed to eat quickly before going off to change for the wedding.

‘Good man,’ said Ben fervently, munching. ‘I’m famished after knocking on all those doors. Emotionally drained, too,’ he added with drama. ‘Good thing we’re having coffee. A beer would knock me flat.’

‘Not that you’re allowed one, anyway, with champagne to come later,’ said Grania, and smiled warmly at Jake. ‘This was such a good idea of yours. Thank you.’

‘How long have you known Sarah, Jake?’ asked Frances curiously.

‘Not long enough,’ he assured her.

‘How did you meet?’

‘He ran me over in his car,’ explained Sarah, and grinned at the startled faces turned in her direction. ‘You did ask!’

‘She gave me the worst fright of my entire life,’ said Jake, shuddering.

‘Good heavens,’ said Grania, awestruck. ‘Were you hurt, Sarah?’

‘Just a graze or two and a bruised thigh. It was my fault, really. Jake did his utmost to avoid me. I literally shot out into the road in front of him. In the middle of a thunderstorm,’ Sarah added, laughing at the instant comprehension on the assembled faces.

‘Ah! All is revealed,’ Frances told Jake. ‘Sarah goes bananas in a storm. In our student days the faintest rumble of thunder sent her diving into the broom cupboard.’

Lunch over, it was decided to make a move and meet in the foyer at two-fifteen for the short drive to the church.

‘Tom and I can direct you, needless to say,’ said Ben,
grinning. ‘After this morning we know every nook and cranny in the entire neighbourhood!’

After Frances and Tom were waved off the others made for the lift.

‘Bit of a tight fit,’ commented Ben. ‘Push up, Sarah. What floor are you on?’

‘Right at the top,’ said Jake.

‘So are we,’ said Grania, pleased.

‘We’re a floor above that again,’ Sarah explained, glad they were crowded so closely together she couldn’t see Jake’s face.

They left the others at their door, then went on up the stairs, Sarah amused by the look on Grania’s face as she watched them go.

‘She likes you, Jake.’

‘Good. I like her, too. And the others.’ He smiled at her. ‘One way and another I’m going to enjoy this wedding very much.’

Sarah gave him a narrowed look as he closed the door behind him. ‘Why?’

‘Because your friends are good company and I’ll be spending the day with you.’ He waved a hand at the bed. ‘Or did you imagine I meant the pleasure of sharing that?’

‘No. Though you’ll have to,’ she said, unruffled. ‘There’s nowhere else to sleep.’

‘So I’ve noticed. Do you snore?’

Sarah laughed. ‘I’ve no idea. Do you?’

‘I’ve never had complaints,’ he said blandly, then gave her the familiar laser-beam look. ‘Sarah, I know perfectly well you didn’t ask to share because you lust after my body. I’ll sleep on the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time. So don’t let worries about tonight spoil your day.’

Sarah went over to Jake and touched a hand to his cheek. ‘You’re a lovely man, Jake Hogan.’

To her surprise colour rose in his face as he captured the hand and kissed it. ‘Thank you kindly, Miss Tracy. No one’s ever said that to me before.’

‘You amaze me,’ she teased. ‘Right, while you hang your things up I’ll use the bathroom. Though do take a look inside first.’

Jake crossed the room and stood still on the threshold. ‘Good
night
!’ He went inside to inspect it, then came out looking smug. ‘A bit over-dolphined, but the mirror tiles are Pentiles’ best, I’m happy to say. Now put a move on, room-mate, I need a shave.’

Sarah had a very quick shower, then emerged in one of the dressing gowns provided by the management. ‘Right. Your turn.’

While Jake was in the bathroom Sarah dressed rapidly, then sat down at the dressing table to do her face, and the hair she’d been up before dawn to wash. She brushed the long, in-curving bob into place, threaded her mother’s amethyst and pearl drops through her earlobes, checked the toenails painted the night before in the same clover-pink as her dress, then slid her feet into two strips of kid the colour of her suntanned skin. She got up and did a twirl as Jake came out of the bathroom swathed in the other dressing gown.

‘Will I do?’

‘Oh, yes, Sarah, you’ll do,’ he said in a tone which brought swift colour to her face.

‘Thank you.’ She smiled awkwardly. ‘I’ll read one of the magazines over there while you get dressed.’

Sarah kept her eyes glued to the pages, well aware that it was idiotic to feel so—so what? Shy? Ridiculous. She’d shared a house for years with Nick and Paul, and
with other male students staying from time to time. But none of them had ever been more than friends. Whereas Jake Hogan was something else entirely.

‘You can look up,’ he said in amusement. ‘I’m decent now.’

Sarah cast her magazine aside with relief and watched while Jake fastened a waistcoat in charcoal-grey silk, then knotted a matching tie under his gleaming white collar.

‘Will
I
do?’ he asked, slotting gold cufflinks into place.

She looked him over in approval, from thick, gold-tipped fair hair, to the gleaming toes of his shoes. Jake appealed to her strongly enough in ordinary clothes, but in formal wedding gear he was spectacular. ‘Perfect,’ she said. And meant it.

Jake gave her a wry glance. ‘If only I were, Sarah.’ He checked his watch. ‘Time you were putting on your hat.’

Sarah removed the lid from the box, and took out a saucer of white straw decorated with loops of stiff white ribbon and a spray of pink rosebuds in a nest of tulle. ‘They added the roses after I took my dress to the shop—good match, aren’t they?’

‘Perfect. It’s a very sexy little hat, but how the devil are you going to anchor it on?’ said Jake.

‘One of the rosebuds is a hatpin in disguise.’ Sarah removed it, planted the hat off centre to let a couple of rosebuds trail over one temple, then speared the confection into place. She turned from the mirror, smiling. ‘What do you think?’

He looked at her in silence for a moment. ‘I’d better not tell you,’ he said at last, and trailed a finger down
her cheek, leaving a ribbon of fire on her skin. ‘On your mark, get set, then.’

Sarah gathered up a small clutch purse, gave Jake a mocking little curtsy, then made for the door. ‘Let’s go.’

The wedding ceremony was an informal, riotous affair, with a troupe of small bridesmaids and pageboys who required quelling from time to time while Delphine Bartlett was joined in holy matrimony to Nicholas Morrell. But because the bride turned a beaming smile on the miscreants and obviously didn’t mind a bit, no one else did, either. Jake, well versed in the ways of small children, was even able to field a small pageboy making a run for it at one stage, and handed him over with a grin to the perspiring father in pursuit.

‘Well done,’ whispered Sarah, impressed.

‘I’m good with children,’ he murmured, and took her hand in his again, to Grania’s deep approval.

After the general photo-session later, Tom and Ben took a few shots of their own little group, then Jake took the camera to record the group of friends with the bride and groom and the best man.

‘Though why the devil did you have to wear such a gigantic hat, Fran?’ grumbled Tom, as he tried to stand close on Jake’s instructions.

‘It’s my sister’s Ascot hat,’ she retorted. ‘It was very good of her to lend it to me.’

‘Pity she didn’t have a cheeky little number like Sarah’s!’

By this time the smaller fry in the wedding party were getting out of hand, and Nick and Delphine made a run for the lych gate, laughing and dodging showers of confetti as they dived into the car for the drive to the bride’s home for the wedding breakfast.

‘Though why it’s breakfast in the afternoon, I’ll never know,’ said Grania as Ben helped her into the car as if she had
Fragile
marked across her forehead. ‘Relax, darling. I’m pregnant, not incapable.’

A marquee, which had served two of the bride’s sisters in the past, stood waiting in the sunlit garden of the old rectory, which, according to Nick, the Bartletts had been restoring and renovating ever since their marriage, thirty years before.

‘Shall I carry you?’ Jake asked as he helped Sarah out into the paddock serving as car park. ‘Those shoes aren’t made for walking, Miss Tracy.’

‘The grass is bone-dry, so I’ll manage, thanks.’ She smiled at him. ‘Come on. This is where you get to kiss the bride.’

‘It’s not the bride I want to kiss,’ he muttered, then grinned as the others joined them, demanding the reason for Sarah’s hectic colour.

‘It’s the heat,’ she said, avoiding the gleam in Jake’s eye.

After a session of kisses and congratulations the bride and groom circulated amongst the guests, so obviously happy and comfortable together Sarah watched them wistfully until she found Jake’s hostile eyes trained on her face.

‘Wishing you were the bride?’ he asked in an undertone.

‘Of course I’m not!’ she returned tartly. ‘Weddings make women sentimental, that’s all.’

He leaned so close his breath was hot on her cheek. ‘To me it looked as though you were indulging in a little of the hankering you objected to on my part.’

‘What are you two murmuring about?’ demanded
Frances. ‘Can’t have you canoodling at this hour. Have some more champagne.’

‘Jake thinks I’m feeling miserable because Nick’s married at last,’ said Sarah, amused to see she’d startled Jake by her bluntness.

‘Why on earth should you be miserable?’ asked Grania, surprised.

Ben patted her hand indulgently. ‘She means Jake’s a bit jealous of Sarah’s relationship with Nick, darling.’

‘Are you, Jake?’ demanded Frances, eyes sparkling.

‘Yes,’ he said candidly.

‘No need,’ Grania assured him. ‘They were always thick as thieves, of course, but both of them went out with other people all the time. Nick used to moan to Sarah about his love life—though I don’t think it was a two-way thing. She was never very communicative about herself.’ She smiled. ‘She’s certainly kept you a dark secret.’

‘Would you kindly stop talking about me as though I wasn’t here?’ complained Sarah, and eyed Jake militantly. ‘Happy now?’

‘If he’s not,’ said Tom with a suggestive wink, ‘you can always make it up to him later.’

To Sarah’s relief the bride and groom chose that moment to join them.

‘You look pretty gorgeous, Sal,’ said Nick. ‘Doesn’t she, Jake?’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Jake, deadpan, then turned to the bride. ‘So do you, Mrs Morrell. I wish you every happiness.’

‘Thank you so much.’ Delphine exchanged a luminous look with Nick. ‘Every time someone calls me Mrs Morrell I get this funny feeling here.’ She touched the pearl-embroidered silk at his midriff.

‘Me too,’ her new husband assured her dotingly.

‘You’re a very lucky man, Nick,’ said Sarah, and gave Delphine a kiss. ‘You won’t mind if I say I think you’re lucky too?’

Later, in the marquee, Tom and Ben switched the place cards so that Sarah sat between them at their table, leaving Jake opposite between their wives.

‘Don’t be cross; they don’t see her very often these days,’ said Grania, correctly interpreting the look on Jake’s face.

‘How could I object with you and Frances for company?’ he said, smiling.

When the speeches were over and the cake cut, the top table was cleared away to make room for dancing to records played by a local disc jockey. The bride and groom took to the floor to much affectionate applause, and waltzed slowly and inexpertly round the floor. This time Sarah made sure she displayed no sign of the wistfulness Jake had misunderstood earlier.

When the bridal pair came to a halt the waltz gave way to an old Fred Astaire number, and some of the older guests promptly took to the floor to dance to something familiar while they had the chance.

Jake got up and came round the table to Sarah. ‘Dance with me?’

Because her hat had been taken for safe-keeping to the car before the meal, they could have danced cheek to cheek, in tune with the song. But constraint still lingered between them, until at last Sarah raised her head to meet the brooding blue eyes.

‘I’m not, you know,’ she said, very distinctly.

‘Hankering?’ He almost tripped her up as he missed a step.

‘Yes. At least, not after Nick.’ She met his eyes very
deliberately and felt her pulse leap as his lashes dropped to hide his blaze of reaction.

‘You mean that?’ he muttered into her hair.

Sarah nodded mutely, and moved closer into arms which tightened in response.

From then on the evening was pure bliss for Sarah. She danced once each with Tom and Ben, and even boogied wildly with Nick at one stage, when the music hotted up later in the evening. But for the rest of the time Jake kept her close, either on the dance floor, or sitting with an openly possessive arm round her at the table, to the great satisfaction of Frances and Grania. At last a fanfare blared over the amplifiers and Nick and Delphine reappeared, dressed in travelling clothes.