Truly Married (28 page)

She’d like to strangle the damned voice, but she knew it was right. If she wanted him in spite of her doubts and her stupid pride, then she’d better tell him so. She was well acquainted with his stubborn Scottish nature, and she knew he’d never again approach her about a reconciliation.

A noise on the stairs alerted her, and she looked up to see him coming down carrying a garment bag, a large suitcase and a briefcase. He’d also changed into navy slacks and a blue plaid sport coat and once again looked like the idealized picture of a successful young attorney, aloof and professional.

He set his luggage on the floor beside the door and turned to her. His face was an expressionless mask, but his eyes were dark with pain and regret.

“You have both my office and apartment addresses and phone numbers.” His tone was impersonal, but his voice shook slightly. “Promise you’ll call if you ever want or need me.”

If I ever want or need him?
She devoutly hoped she’d never want or need him any more than she did right now, but still she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. He’d fooled her so easily before. How could she trust him not to do it again?

“Fergus, I...I don’t know how I can ever thank you—”

“Gratitude is not what I want from you, Sharon,” he said tartly. “All I ask is that you keep in touch and let me know if you ever need anything. Will you promise me that?”

She swallowed the sobs rising in her throat and nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

He moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders. “And will you kiss me goodbye?”

He couldn’t have stopped her. She couldn’t even stop herself as she nodded and clasped her arms around his neck.

He responded immediately by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. Slowly he lowered his head to her upturned face and captured her mouth with his own. His lips were warm and his breath was sweet as she melted against him with a little cry of surrender.

His arms tightened, but he didn’t try to deepen the kiss. Instead, he kept it sweet, tender and lingering, and it was more binding and deeply loving than unleashed passion at its most explosive.

So much so that when he finally raised his head she moaned and tried to recapture the magic of his mouth with her own, but he put her away from him, gently but firmly.

“Goodbye, my darling,” he said huskily. “Have a happy and fulfilling life.”

Before she could catch her breath and respond he was gone.

Chapter Fifteen

I
n Sharon’s world the weeks dragged by. July became August and then September. St. Louis in midsummer was hot and muggy, but it really didn’t matter, because all she did was go to work, come home, watch television and go to bed, all in the comfort of air conditioning.

She seldom went anyplace else, although other summers had been filled with fun on the river, going boating and water-skiing or on dinner cruises with compatible men she liked and dated.

Not this year, even though she’d been absolved of all charges in Floyd Vancleave’s death.

So had Helen. The district attorney had ruled it a case of self-defense, and she was never charged. Fergus and Ray arranged for her to be admitted to a private psychiatric facility for treatment and therapy. Sharon went back to her position at the hotel, and both management and employees had welcomed her wholeheartedly.

Still she was miserable, although she managed to hide it from everyone except Anna. Her roommate tried to get her to seek counseling, but Sharon refused. She knew what was wrong with her. She also knew that she wouldn’t be able to shake the melancholy that ravaged her until she came to terms with the cause of it—her ambivalent feelings about her ex-husband.

She tried not to think of Fergus, but he was never really out of her mind. The nights were the worst. That’s when she had to face herself, take responsibility for her own decisions and admit that she had no one else to blame for the anguish she was going through.

She’d thought she was doing the right thing when she’d sent Fergus away without her. Surely nothing could be worse than living with him and always being afraid that someday he’d again meet another woman he wanted more than he wanted her.

But now, after ten weeks to the day, she was forced to admit that she’d been wrong. That life without him was worse now than it had been before he’d come back into her life. At least when she’d sent him away the first time she’d had a good reason: he’d admitted to being emotionally involved with another woman.

This time...this time was it just her stubborn pride that was keeping them apart?

Was she making a horrendous mistake? So what if he didn’t love her as much as she loved him? Where was it written that love had to be weighed in equal measures? Was she really willing to spend the rest of her life alone and miserable without him, rather than settle for a little less than perfection?

And what had happened to forgiveness? He’d told her in every way he could how sorry he was for hurting her. She’d assured him that she’d forgiven him, but had she really? Wasn’t she letting her wounded pride interfere with her good judgment?

One thing she knew for sure. Fergus hadn’t set out to seduce Elaine, and if Sharon hadn’t found out about it he would have sent her away and stayed with his wife.

Come to think of it, what more could she ask of him?

Ah, but that was the heart of the matter. She was asking for his deep, abiding, undivided love, all of it, as long as they both shall live. It was no more than she was willing to give him. Was it so unreasonable to expect the same commitment in return?

Maybe it was. Life wasn’t always fair. No one was given a guarantee of happiness, and most people never got a second chance at it. Wasn’t it better to grab it when it did come around and then work hard to make it last?

It took two more days of tortured indecision before Sharon finally came to the realization that she had no intention of living the rest of her years in quiet desperation. She’d never been much of a gambler, but neither was she a quitter.

She was going to embrace life and fight for a future filled with love and contentment, and that wouldn’t be possible without Fergus Lachlan!

The only question now was, did he still want her? He hadn’t contacted her again since leaving St. Louis, although she knew he’d been back once for a brief time to wrap up Helen’s legal entanglements. Ray had told Sharon about it when he’d called to tell her that Helen wouldn’t be charged for killing her husband.

Sharon grimaced as she wondered if Fergus was thoroughly disgusted with her by now. He wasn’t the type to beg for anything, not even forgiveness. He’d acknowledged that their breakup was his fault, and he’d said he was sorry, but still she’d refused his proposal of marriage. She knew without doubt that the next move was up to her.

Had she been too unyielding? Had she waited too long? Had he become tired of banging his head against the stone wall of her abstinence and turned to someone else for warmth and love?

She hoped the answer to those questions was a resounding
no,
but she wasn’t going to wait any longer to find out. She needed to go to him, talk to him face-to-face. But maybe he wasn’t in Chicago right now. He was a nationally known attorney and much in demand. He defended people all over the country who were accused of crimes.

He’d spent a lot of time in St. Louis when he was defending her, and he traveled all over the country to represent other clients, as well. It made no sense to drive to Chicago to see him if he wasn’t there. On the other hand, she didn’t want to call and make an appointment. That was too cold and impersonal.

Then it occurred to her that she didn’t have to talk to him if she called. His secretary would answer the phone. Sharon could ask her if Fergus was in town. Unfortunately it was Sunday, September 17, and the office would be closed, but she’d call the first thing in the morning.

That night Sharon slept peacefully and awoke feeling ready to fight if necessary for her second chance at happiness. It was too early to place her call before she left for work, but shortly after she arrived at the hotel she picked up her phone and dialed.

“Fergus Lachlan’s office,” said the voice at the other end. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like to know if Mr. Lachlan will be in his office late today or anytime tomorrow,” Sharon answered.

“He’ll be here part of both days, but he has no appointment times available until later this month. I can possibly schedule you then, if you’ll give me your name and—”

Sharon hung up and went to the office of the front-desk manager, her immediate supervisor. The man who had been brought in from the Dallas Starlight to fill Floyd Vancleave’s position, the one that should have been hers. She told him she had a family emergency in Chicago and asked for the rest of the week off starting the following day, Tuesday.

The leave was granted, and she spent the rest of Monday tying up all the loose ends she could before delegating her responsibilities to the woman who would be filling in for her. That evening she had her car serviced and packed a suitcase, and early the following morning she left for Chicago.

Autumn in Illinois was as colorful as spring had been, but for different reasons. The blossoms were now chrysanthemums and gladiolus in deep shades of gold, orange and lavender, and the leaves on the trees were turning to yellow and red.

As Sharon neared Chicago her stomach started doing flip-flops. Flipping with excitement, flopping with trepidation. She’d lived all her life in this city, until the breakup of her marriage had shattered her illusions and broken her heart. Then she hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. Away from Fergus and everything that reminded her of him.

Away from their mutual friends and the humiliation of knowing that they all knew she hadn’t been loving enough, or pretty enough, or whatever it was she’d failed to have enough of, to keep him becoming attracted to another woman.

Now, after almost six long years she was going home, and her excitement mounted.

But going home to what? To memories that haunted her? To friends who had forgotten her? To a man who might not even want her anymore? It was the uncertainty of these questions that dampened her enthusiasm and caused her stomach to clench.

It was midafternoon when Sharon drove into the public parking lot nearest the building that housed the offices of Everingham, Jessup and Lachlan. The name of the firm had changed since she’d left town. Fergus had told her that Orrin Newberry had retired and he, Fergus, had been made a full partner.

At the thirtieth floor, high above the sprawling city, Sharon strode out of the elevator and down familiar hallways to the suite. At the door she paused to savor the thrill of seeing Fergus’s name on it. During the time they were married that had been his ultimate goal, to see his name on the door in discreet gold letters that announced to all who saw it that he was a full partner in the old and prestigious firm.

When she stepped inside the thrill was replaced by misgivings. This was madness! What had she been thinking of just to appear and expect to see an attorney as well-known and respected, to say nothing of
busy,
as Fergus. The young blond receptionist sitting at her desk a few feet away, who was new since Sharon had last been there, would throw her out unless Sharon told her she was Fergus’s ex-wife, and she didn’t want to do that. The receptionist and most of the other junior employees would have known Elaine as Mrs. Lachlan, and Sharon didn’t want to cause a commotion.

“May I help you?” the woman asked as she looked up.

Sharon managed a small smile in spite of the fact that her knees were shaking. “Yes, I’d like to see Mr. Lachlan, please.”

“Your name?”

Sharon swallowed. “Sharon Sawyer.”

The girl glanced at an open notebook. “Do you have an appointment, Ms. Sawyer?”

“Uh, no,” she admitted, “but I’m sure he’ll see me if you just tell him—”

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist interrupted briskly, “but Mr. Lachlan is booked up for the next several weeks. Would you like to see his secretary and make an appointment?”

“But I... I’m from out of town. I’ve come all the way to Chicago to see him. If you’ll just tell him I’m here...”

“I can’t do that,” the other woman insisted. “He’s not in his office right now. If you’d like to leave your name and a number where you can be reached I’ll tell him you asked to see him, but frankly, Ms. Sawyer, he’s a very busy man and he seldom sees a new client without an appointment.”

Obviously the receptionist didn’t recognize her name as that of the client he’d so recently rescued from the horrors of prosecution.

“I’m not a new client,” Sharon told her. “I’m the woman he defended a couple of months ago in St. Louis.”

The receptionist looked taken aback. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is there a problem? If you had called ahead I could have tried to work you in, but—”

“No, there’s no problem,” Sharon assured her. “This is a personal visit.”

The woman sighed. “I see.” She sounded disgusted. “Then I suggest that if you have his home number you contact him there.”

Sharon was rapidly losing her timidity. “Is that where he is?” she asked testily.

“The itinerary of our attorneys is confidential,” the woman snapped. “I can’t give you any information as to his whereabouts.”

She turned her attention back to the papers on her desk, coolly conveying the message that this conversation was over.

Angrily Sharon turned and started toward the door, just as it opened and Fergus walked in. They collided in the middle of the room, and threw their arms around each other to balance themselves, hers at his neck and his at her waist.

They looked at each other, surprise in her expression, shock in his.

“Sharon! What are you doing here?”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her close against him.

“I...I came to see you, but you weren’t here.” That was a stupid remark, she silently berated herself. He could see that without her telling him.

“Well, I’m here now!” he exclaimed. “Come with me.”