Sins of Sarah (32 page)

'Many congratulations. Miss Campbell.' The proprietor smiled as he bustled to attend to them. Sarah stared at him in surprise for a moment, then realized it was the award he was talking about. In her misery over Nick she had forgotten about it.

'Why, thank you, Anton.' She smiled back gratefully at him, and decided she was hungry after all. 'I'd love lobster, Charles, if that's OK?'

'That sounds more like you!' He laughed back, and Sarah shook herself, and gave him her full attention from then on.

'I'll send Bernard to take you to the theatre,' he promised. 'And to take you home afterwards.'

'That's not necessary, Charles.'

'Yes, it is!' There was to be no argument, she found. 'The Press can be horrific and I'm taking no chances with you. If Nick can't protect you, I can.'

'Nick has to see Diana,' she pointed out.

'You do realize he won't come back, don't you?' Charles asked casually. 'Diana has a terrible hold over him.'

'She's already phoned me,' Sarah admitted, and told him about Diana's call.

'The bitch!' he exclaimed furiously. 'What are you going to do?'

'Whatever Nick decides,' she sighed. 'Don't let's spoil lunch, Charles, please.'

* * *

Diana had hung up the phone in a total fury. Only the day before she had asked Nick about Sarah Campbell and he had fiercely denied any involvement with her, outside business. Now Max Moreton was openly speaking of their affair. Not sure whether it was his denials she hated most, or the humiliation of the press coverage, she stormed around for an hour or more, totally unable to stop, ignoring the constantly ringing phone. Every time she tried to stop, the tide of fury swept over her again.

Finally, a banging on the door brought her to her senses and she ran downstairs to it when she recognized Paul's car. Everyone should have a Paul, she thought as he patted her shoulder awkwardly, and then made her some coffee.

'Let's face it, Diana,' he said as they sat each side of the kitchen table. 'It's not the first time he's done this, is it? And it probably won't be the last, living as you two do.'

'He lied to me about Sarah Campbell,' she sobbed anew. 'I can't bear that!'

'There may be nothing in it,' Paul reasoned. 'You said yourself, that reporter has it in for Nick. He may well have used the photographs and a bit of gossip to make some-thing of it.'

'No, Paul, this time it's all true. The reporter actually saw them making love. The bastard couldn't even do that behind closed doors! I've known for months deep down, I just turned my back on it, hoping it would all go away like it did over Stephanie. But it hasn't, it's just got worse.'

She hated Nick for what he was putting her through, but under her fury was the infuriating knowledge that she still wanted him under her control. The row that would come was a small price to pay for keeping him, and she knew she would do that, whatever happened when he got home. There were still a lot more she wanted from Nicholas Grey.

Paul took her out to lunch in a quiet pub a few miles away, comforting her and calming her down, relieved in a way that Nick had been having an affair with Sarah Campbell as he had begun to suspect Madeleine. She had become rather too friendly with Nick of late, since she had been working for him up in London, and he had been furious when, despite his objections, Madeleine had insisted on continuing to work for him.

Everything came far too easily to Nick, Paul had decided, years ago, and he hated him for what he perceived as his careless treatment of a beautiful wife. Though loving Diana as he did made it far easier to comfort her and understand her distress, he told himself ruefully.

* * *

When Nick pulled his car into the drive around five o'clock Diana was ready for him, dressed and made-up, her hair smooth and sleek, showing no sign of the storms of the morning. Playing for time, he seemed to take for ever getting his bag and briefcase out of the car, before he opened the front door, calling to her where she waited in the drawing room, watching him from the window.

Very slowly, she went towards him across the hall, conscious of the roses he had sent that afternoon still lying on the hall chair. Nick ignored them and bent to kiss her unsmiling mouth. Without a word, Diana turned back into the drawing room, picking up the flowers as she did so. 'I'll get a vase for these,' she said, quietly as he put his briefcase down on the coffee-table, giving him a chance to relax slightly as he watched her arrange them.

It was too early for a drink, he thought, and then poured one. Diana shook her head when he offered one to her.

The atmosphere was electric.

'Well?' she asked at last. 'What are you going to do? I've had Daddy on the phone half the afternoon.'

'I bet you have,' Nick said drily. 'He's given me a hard time too. I'm not going to do anything, Diana. It's up to you. I suggested a divorce months ago, remember?' Blast him, Diana thought bitterly, ready to hit him with frustration.

'No divorce. Nick! I told you that and I meant it! I'll see you in hell first - which is where I've been all day after listening to Max and all his rancid little tales! Have you any idea what that's like?'

'I'm sorry, Diana.' Nick stared down into the glass in his hand, unable to look at her suddenly. 'I really didn't think Max would stoop so low as to tell you all that.'

'Well, he did! He didn't leave much out either. You disgust me. Nick! You're forty, not a teenager, surely to God you have some control over your urges? Making love on a garden bench - at your age! It's revolting!' She made what had appeared to him as a wonderful interlude suddenly seem so sordid somehow, and Nick winced.

'I have the normal instincts of any man,' he defended. 'Just because they don't correspond with yours doesn't mean they're wrong! Face it, Diana, we just aren't compatible!'

'We were. Once.'

'No, Diana. Don't kid yourself! We have a friendship, I admit, and surprisingly it's one I'd prefer to continue. But I don't think you've ever liked me to touch you - you don't even approve of Lotte hugging me, for heaven's sake! I make no excuses over Sarah, and I refuse to let you denigrate her in your sanctimonious fashion.'

'She's nothing but a slut. Nick! A cheap little tart! Can't you see all she wants is your influence to help her to make it in the business? It's all those ignorant little bitches ever want! And you're too stupid to see how you're being used'

'Oh, no! That's where you are completely wrong! Possibly Stephanie did, but not Sarah! This is different - very different! This time I want out, Diana. Out of this marriage, out of your life altogether!'

'Yes?' Diana turned bitter eyes on him. Fine, Nick. You do that and you'll never see Charlotte again. I'll see to that! She's still young enough to come under the ruling of the courts, and no judge would even grant you joint custody, not after the things I could tell them. I'd make sure you never got near her again. And once Daddy has finished with the financial side of things, you won't have your precious company either. I can claim a third of it, and I will - believe me, I will. In cash too! Where will you and your sweet little girlfriend be then, eh. Nick? With no money? She'll soon desert you. For Charlie, probably. He's been panting after her long enough.'

'Sarah's not like that!' he said sharply, knowing that on that score he was completely right. But the harsh reality of Diana's threats confirmed everything Nick had feared. He bent down, burying his face in Boots's fur as he bounded up to him, and Diana got up to leave the room, knowing triumphantly that she had hit home.

'You have to give her up, Nicholas, and that's all there is to it! It's her, or Charlotte and the company. Think about it,' she commanded quietly, and walked out.

For the first time since Natasha's death. Nick gave way to grief, tears stinging his eyes as he crumpled, hugging the patient dog. All day, as he had battled first with reporters and then with Alistair Mackenzie, he had known deep down that it would come to this. Half of him wanted to walk out on the marriage right this minute, but then he thought of the hold Diana had on both his precious daughter and the business, and the other half of him told him it was impossible.

Later that morning, after his raging head had subsided, he had walked through the building being greeted and congratulated by the staff, who were as proud of his awards as if they had won them personally. They admired him, they relied on him for their livelihood and they needed him, and without him it would all fold. He wondered bitterly if Max had known of Diana's share of the company - with that man's connections, it was more than likely - and Max knew exactly how to twist the knife. Ironically, he had made Diana a full partner to give her an income of her own; now his generosity had thoroughly backfired on him.

Sarah had sounded so cheerful too, when he had spoken to her as he drove out to Oxford. Charles had taken her to his Dolphin Square flat when they discovered even more reporters outside hers. She had spent most of the afternoon asleep, as she normally did before a performance, and had done her best to reassure him that everything would be fine.

He had to find a way to keep her; he would go mad without her. Slowly, he dragged himself to his feet and went into the study, pulling the list of calls he had to make from his briefcase. Deliberately he left me door open so that Diana would know he was simply making business calls. It was ironic that most of the calls he had received during the day had been congratulatory ones. He worked conscientiously until Diana came to say that supper was ready. He was shooting a commercial the next day so in fact he had plenty to do, and he had done very little during the day, so distracted had he been.

It was a stilted, difficult meal, with neither of them seeming to know what to say to each other. Nick finally pushed his hardly touched plate away. 'I'm sorry, I'm really not hungry,' he admitted.

Diana shrugged. The meal had not been up to her usual standards. 'Nick, what are you going to do?'

'I don't know.' He leant back wearily. 'For now I'm going to take Boots out. I need to think.' Thankfully, she didn't offer to go with him, so Nick whistled the dog and went for a long walk through the nearby woods in contemplative mood.

He hated himself for being so spineless and so utterly unable to make a clear decision. And, he thought, suddenly he was feeling old. He knew the lines around his eyes were deeper, and, though thankfully his hair was still thick and showed no sign of receding, there was definitely grey over his ears now. How could he seriously even think of marrying Sarah, he wondered bitterly, tying her down to an old man? She was too young and vibrant, too full of life.

Yet they shared so much. Like him, she could place any song in a musical - thanks to her father - and they had a shared passion for music and theatre that both rejoiced in. He remembered the absorption on her face as she had listened to Verdi in St Paul's with him, and her determination to sit in the upper circle rather than miss it when even he hadn't been able to get her favourite dress circle seats for a show they desperately wanted to see.

Diana would have thrown up her hands in horror.

Sarah loved the open air, competed happily in most of the sports he challenged her with, and cheerfully tramped galleries with him when time permitted, offering pithy and frequently accurate opinions of paintings he thought of buying.

Though he admitted to treating her like a child to be spoilt, there was still far more to Sarah than a pretty exterior. Moreover, she loved him desperately, and he was going to devastate her if he broke things off. He couldn't do it, he decided, wanting to howl out his frustration to the dark, silent trees around him. He slammed his fist against the unforgiving trunk of an oak, almost rejoicing in the pain the blow produced, and decided then, to go back to London that night. Away from the suffocating atmosphere of Diana's influence. Back to Sarah. This time to stay.

Marching back into the house with his new resolve, he was horrified to find several reporters hammering on the front door and Diana in tears in the kitchen. 'Nick, oh, thank goodness! Get rid of them, please?' she begged him, all animosity gone.

Angrily, Nick forcibly ejected the four men with threats of legal action for trespass that he knew quite well he had no way of fulfilling. But it was enough to shift them to the sanctuary of the gate, out of view of the house. He returned then to pick up his overnight bag, and Diana suddenly realized he was leaving.

'Nick! Please don't go!' she begged him, tears still obvious on her cheeks. 'Don't leave me alone in the house - not tonight, - please. They'll come back. I know they will!' Very slowly he looked at her, and knew he couldn't leave her on her own. His sense of decency was being tested to the limit, and in the face of her distress he simply couldn't do it

'It makes no difference, you know,' he said, firmly. 'I can't go on like this, Diana. But I will stay tonight.'

'In my bed?' Diana stopped crying in an instant.

'No, in my own bed,' Nick decided. 'Take it or leave it, but that's the one condition I am going to stick to. It's never worried you before.'

'Well, it does now.' Diana was equally firm. 'Nick, I know what we decided after Charlotte was born, but have you ever thought that we should have another baby? It could be the one thing that would give some purpose to what's left of our marriage.'