‘Sage. I have been hoping to meet you. We are great friends with your grandparents. Are they here?’ In an undertone, she added conspiratorially, ‘I really have beendyingto meet you.’ Then louder again, she asked, ‘Are they up in the trainers’ gallery?’
‘It’s very lovely to meet you. Yes, they are – I was just going up to find them.’ Sage answered Constance respectfully, but her eyes strayed involuntarily to Rafe. He had told his mother about her. What did this mean? He was looking right at her, his darkeyes boring into hers. She felt a rush of heat as she recognized the desire in them. Sage knew her misgivings would melt away if he carried on gazing at her with those burning eyes. She felt dizzy with a punch of longing; her body ached for him. She dragged her eyes away, her pulse racing, blood rushing in her ears. None of the practical reasons for staying away from him seemed to matter when she was this close to him.I don’t want to fight this, she realized with surprise, her defences beginning to crumble.
She understood, properly and for the first time, that Rafe really wanted her, and she really wanted him.
‘I need to borrow Sage for a moment, Mother. Louis can take you to find the Seymours. We’ll be up in a bit.’
Louis began to protest but Rafe swiftly took Sage by the hand and led her away, back through security into the stable yard.
‘Where are we going?’ Sage’s voice was ragged. Rafe’s hand was warm and rough and where they touched it felt like a firework of synapse explosions. She had never had this chemical reaction to another person before; it was fire and ice, and her body screamed for more. He looked back at her, fierce with intensity, and then he smiled that rare, devastating flash of unveiled affection and she was completely disorientated by the surge of need she felt for him. Rafe opened up a stable, pulling her inside.
‘My runner in the five-fifteen p.m.,’ was all he said about the black horse in the blue rug who was unconcernedly munching at his haynet. ‘He won’t mind us.’ Rafe gently pressed Sage back against the brick wall, pushing a lock of hair that had escaped from her hair tie behind her ear. Softly running his thumb down her face, he looked at her, seeking permission in her eyes. Sage, literally quivering at the knees, clasped her hands around his neck, overcome with desire, and pulled him closer until their mouths were touching and then they were lost in each other,their kisses getting deeper and deeper; their bodies moulding into each other, touching eagerly and without restraint until Sage let out a soft moan.
‘What are we doing? Someone could come in.’ She placed another helpless kiss on the corner of his mouth, reluctant to stop.
Rafe took her face in his large hands and rested his forehead against hers. His uneven breath smelt of mint, his body of soap and something earthier, honeysuckle maybe. Sage found it inebriating.
‘I can’t help myself, Sage. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. You’vebewitchedme. I do not normally behave like this!’ Rafe was apologetic, steeling himself to step back from her but wanting to sweep her up in his arms and run for the hills.
‘I should think not!’ Sage pointedly looked at his dishevelled clothes; his shirt was rucked up beneath his jersey and coat where she had untucked it to run her hands over his hard midriff, the knot of his blue tie had been pulled loose and his trilby lay forgotten on the banked-up straw.
‘You are normallymuchbetter turned out,’ she said, attempting to unhook his trousers in order to tuck in his shirt. With firm hands he moved hers away.
‘No, I think you’d better let me do that or you will be inrealtrouble.’ He placed a more deliberately chaste kiss on her trembling mouth. Trying to catch his breath and regain his composure he asked, ‘Can you come to my house tonight after the races? I think we’d better have a proper conversation.’
‘Yes. I’ll need to put Hal to bed, and then I’ll come.’
There was the clatter of a wheelbarrow outside and they furtively sprang apart, not a moment too soon, as Chris, Rafe’s travelling senior lad, put his head over the door.
‘I wondered why the kickbolt wasn’t done up, sir. It’s a bit early to be getting him ready though, isn’t it?’ The man lookedfrom one to the other and seemed to take in the situation; retracting his head again with a chuckle, he took himself and the wheelbarrow off down the line of stables and towards the muck heap.
As Sage went to open the top bolt to let herself out of the loose box, Rafe caught her hand in his, pulling her back. She went into his arms again without any struggle, relishing the comforting warmth of his body, and looked up at him questioningly.
‘I just wanted to say … I’m serious, Sage. I’ve thought about this – it’s all I have been able to think about. I didn’t know if you would ever consider it. Considerme, I mean. I know it’s not simple – your and Hal’s situation with Santiago – but I am not taking it lightly …’
Sage wanted to burst into tears at his good, kind sincerity that recognized that Hal would always be her priority. The mention of Santiago brought her back to earth with a bump, however.
She smiled and, placing a featherlight kiss on his lips, let herself out of the stable. Not trusting herself to say any more, not knowing what to say or even what she was feeling, she whispered the one true thing she did know in that moment.
‘Thank you. I can’t wait to see you tonight.’
Sage found Betsy and Dolly sitting at a table in the bar with Constance and Louis Dunbarton.
Taking in her mussed hair and feverishly bright eyes, Louis asked sardonically, ‘How were the horses?’
‘No Casper?’ Sage asked in dismay, ignoring Louis. She could do with some help, her thoughts were so scrambled. Casper would be able to keep things on an even keel; he was so good in social situations like these, having perfected the art of small talk over the years on the legions of owners he rode for. More importantly though, she needed his honest, intelligent council.
‘Oh, he’s here, Sage.Theyare at the bar.’ Dolly’s eyes were slightly wild as she motioned, dramatic in her subtlety of limited movement, over her shoulder.
Sage looked up and with a sinking heart saw that Casper was indeed at the bar, and next to him, dressed in a completely inappropriate pink mini-dress and cream pashmina, was Isabel Delemaine.
Oh shit, she thought, her hot air balloon of newly found happiness taking another plunge. This was all they needed.
Plastering on a big smile, Sage made her way through the room, edging around tables and winding between the people who were milling about waiting for the next race. Reaching Casper and Isabel who were ordering drinks, Sage leant against her brother for a moment.
‘Hello, dearest.’ She gave him a quick, tight hug. Then rallying, she said, ‘Isabel. How are you?’
‘Oh, hi. I’mexhausted. Casper, can we go soon?’ Isabel pouted her huge painted lips and looked pointedly at her watch.