When Georgina had asked for a divorce he’d agreed, because he’d felt their life together was over. They’d had no comfort to offer each other—he, because of the terrible bitterness inside him, and she because she felt responsible for what had happened.
But that day in August he’d discovered that their feelings weren’t dead. There was still a spark there. It had been sweet anguish making love to the only woman he’d ever wanted, and he wasn’t going to rest until he saw her again.
He’d gone to Scandinavia with less than his usual enthusiasm, because he was frustrated and miserable to think that she’d come back into his life and given him hope and then disappeared into the unknown once more.
Now he was home again, and amongst the mail that had accumulated during his absence was the envelope with Georgina’s handwriting on it. With heartbeat quickening, he opened the letter.
The brief communication inside said that she needed to talk to him as soon as possible, and it went on to say that she would come to London if he wished. No way, he thought. He’d waited a long time to find out where she’d gone, and now the opportunity was here.
She hadn’t used the word urgent, but there was something about the wording of the letter that conveyed it to him, and as the postmark on it was from weeks ago he immediately began planning how quickly he could get to this Willowmere place in Cheshire.
Ben was freelance, and not attached to any particular hospital, so there were no arrangements to make at his end. After a quick snack, and a phone call to arrange overnight accommodation at a place in Willowmere called the Pheasant, he was ready for the off, warning the landlord that he would be arriving in the early hours.
As she did on most evenings when she’d eaten, Georgina set off for a short stroll beside the river. A heron, king of the birdlife, familiar to all the village folk, was perched motionless on its favourite stone in the middle of the water when she got there, and she remembered how when she’d first moved to Willowmere she’d had to steel herself to look at the Goyt as it skipped along its stony bed.
As the last rays of the sun turned the skyline to gold she felt the child inside her move and wondered if it was going to be a son to follow the one they’d lost or a baby girl with the same dark hair and eyes as her parents.
She knew that under normal circumstances Ben would be over the moon at the thought of another child, but normal would have been as a brother or sister for Jamie and he was no longer with them.
They’d created a new life in those moments of wild abandon and it should be a source of joy for them both, but as it stood now he knew nothing about it.
She saw that the lights were on in the surgery as she walked back to the cottage and brought her thoughts back to the situation there. Would James find suitable replacements tonight for Anna and Glenn?
After a bath and a hot drink, she was tucked up in bed half an hour later and thinking drowsily that for half the population the night would only just be beginning, but tomorrow would be another busy day for her and James.
She awoke in the early hours to the noise of a car pulling up on the quiet lane below, but didn’t get up to investigate. Instead she snuggled lower under the bed-covers with her eyes closed. The doors were locked, the burglar alarm on. Whoever it might be, she was too sleepy to check them out.
As he’d driven through the Cheshire countryside, Ben had thought wryly that Georgina had certainly intended to put some distance between them by coming here, and she’d also chosen a beautiful place to come to.
He’d seen a lake glinting through trees in the light of a full moon as he’d approached the village, and as he’d drawn nearer had seen that the main street was made up of cottages built from limestone next to quaint shops that made the present-day supermarket seem an uninteresting place by comparison.
He’d arrived earlier than expected, and had stopped briefly outside Georgina’s cottage on a lane at the end of the village after receiving directions from an elderly man.
The curtains were drawn, for which he’d been thankful, as it was hardly the hour to be calling. After choking back the overwhelming feeling of regret for all the wasted years they’d spent, he’d driven off into the night to find his accommodation.
Knowing as he did so that ever since he’d found Georgina in the cemetery and persuaded her to go back to the house, then made love to her like some madman, he’d been aching to see her again. Desperate to tell her how he regretted the way he’d behaved when they’d lost Jamie.
He’d been like someone demented and had vented his desolation on to her, as if she hadn’t been suffering, too. If he’d been in charge, the tragedy would never have happened, he’d told her at times when he’d been at his lowest ebb, and it had been as if the love they’d shared had also died.
It hadn’t been until in bitter despair she’d asked for a divorce and left because she’d been unable to stand it any more that he’d faced up to what he’d done to her.
He’d given her the divorce, couldn’t for shame not to after the way he’d behaved, and ever since then had longed to have her back in his life. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for forsaking her when she’d needed him, for being so selfishly wrapped up in his own grief without a thought for hers, and to explain how meeting her that day had brought all his longing to the surface in an enormous wave of passion.
There’d always been amazing sexual chemistry between them, but after losing Jamie they’d never made love, so estranged had they become. Now he was going to try to rebuild the marriage that had crumbled, and maybe Georgina wanting to talk was a step in the right direction.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN Georgina looked through the window the next morning, there was no car to be seen so she concluded it must have driven off after stopping for a moment.
After a shower and a nourishing breakfast she was ready to leave, and with the car already outside from the previous day, she was about to slide into the driver’s seat when she looked up and saw a man walking towards her along the deserted lane.
He was tall and dark-haired with a trim physique. As he approached she stared at him in disbelief and when he stopped at the bottom of her drive and said, ‘Hello, Georgina,’ in the same tone of voice as on that day in August, her legs turned to jelly.
‘So did you get my letter?’ she croaked from behind the car door.
‘Yes, but only a few hours ago,’ he said evenly. ‘It had been lying unopened behind my door for weeks. I’ve been abroad recently. So what’s the problem, Georgina? What do you want to talk to me about?’
So far the car door was concealing her pregnancy but she couldn’t stay behind it for ever, and with a sudden desire to shatter his calm she pushed it shut. Looking down at her spreading waistline, she said, ‘I want to talk to you about this.’
It was Ben’s turn to be dumbfounded. ‘You’re pregnant!’ he gasped. ‘Oh! My God! You’re with someone else! Why didn’t Nick tell me?’
‘Nicholas didn’t tell you because there was nothing to tell,’ she informed him steadily. ‘He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, and as for the rest, there is no one else in my life. I am on my own and prefer it that way. You are the one who has made me pregnant, Ben. Maybe you recall an afternoon in August.’
Recall it? he thought raggedly. He would never forget it as long as he lived, the softness of her in his arms again, his mouth on hers, her desire matching his. Hope had been born in him that day.
It was why he had come to the place where Georgina had made a new life for herself, hoping that the matter she wanted to discuss was getting back together. Only here she was, carrying his child and making it very clear she hadn’t been having any such thoughts. Yet nothing she