by Anne Hampson
All this Kathryn heard as the two talked on the other side of the hedge. And then they moved; Kathryn could imagine the mother propelling her daughter's chair instead of allowing Marina to do it herself.
Reaction set in as soon as she knew the two were away from where she sat, anger and pain battling for supremacy. Kathryn's heart was aching because of the revelation that Leon had merely used her, married her in order to get the ring, to complete the set and so exorcise the curse. But it puzzled her that he could be affected by superstition, for he seemed to be a totally rational person, practical and contemptuous of such things as curses. Somehow it did not make sense. And yet, there was no denying he had married her to obtain the ring.
He did not love her and, looking back, she saw so many instances of doubt, when she had told herself that the holiday was to him nothing more than a flirtation. Well, she knew now that his initial interest had stemmed from his catching sight of the ring. When he joined her to watch the cabaret, he had then examined the ring and knew for sure that a miracle had occurred: he had found the person owning the missing item of jewellery. If she had sold or given him the ring, that would have been the end as far as Leon was concerned… and he would have been free to go to the woman he was in love with. He had sacrificed his own happiness and hers in order to make his sister well. Again Kathryn was in doubt that Leon could be so superstitious, and yet he must be, for otherwise he would never have gone to the lengths of contracting a loveless marriage.
Loveless? Kathryn's mouth curved bitterly and her anger increased. For the knowledge that her husband knew that she loved him was almost unbearable. How he must have laughed at her naivety! A stupid, starry-eyed girl falling head over heels in love with a man she had met casually while on holiday. The more she thought about it, the more her anger grew, until at last she could wait no longer to confront him and tell him what she thought about him—his contemptuous behaviour, his heartlessness in pretending he loved her just so she would marry him.
She searched for him in the house, but as he was not about, she concluded he was in his study. What must she do in the light of the knowledge that had come to her? she asked herself as she made her way along a wide corridor to the room at the very end, the room with one of the best views in the house. She would leave him… Yet why should she? Where would she go and how was she to find a post even half as well-paying as the one she had given up?
She had not yet come to any conclusion when she knocked on his study door.
'Come in.'
She pushed the door inward, then stood in the threshold for a while, looking at him sitting there at his big antique desk, his face a study of arrogant superiority, his eyes coldly inquiring—or so it seemed to Kathryn's imagination.
'I know you hate being disturbed—'
'I am rather busy, Kathryn.'
Her chin lifted at that, and a sparkle leapt to her eyes. She walked into the room and stood by the desk. 'What I have to say is important. I intend to say it whether you are busy or not!'
He stared uncomprehendingly. 'Is something the matter, dear?'
'Dear!' She cast him a scornful glance. 'You can cut out the pretence, Leon,' she said. 'It must have been an irksome strain to pretend you loved me!'
He stood up, crimson threads creeping up along the sides of his mouth. 'Just what is this?' he demanded, and the arrogant tone only added fuel to the fire of his wife's anger.
'I happened to overhear a conversation between your mother and Marina. Marina had already asked me to give her my ring as a birthday present. I know now why you married me…' She broke off and laughed, loudly and hysterically, her nerves out of control. 'It's a joke, really! Oh, such a joke on you! Because, you see, the only reason I would not part with the ring was that I hoped one day to find the owner of the rest of the set of jewellery!' She laughed again, and now Leon came swiftly to her side of the desk. She sidestepped him on realising he was about to adopt the usual method of curing hysterics. 'Just you dare lay a finger on me and I shall scream the house down,' she threatened.
He stopped, lowering his hand. 'You say you overheard a conversation between my mother and sister? You mean, you deliberately eavesdropped?'
'You can also cut out the contempt! Yes, I did eavesdrop, and I have no regrets! I learned all about the beginning of Marina's illness after she had heard of the curse. It's very puzzling to me, though, that you yourself can be so superstitious. Why, the curse is nothing but rubbish!' She was reminded of the professor's words, his attitude towards the curse, and towards those students who had ridiculed it. Was there really something in it? Kathryn found herself beginning to have doubts and fears, and a shiver passed through her. She had always shied away from things like the occult, or ghosts or anything that savoured of the supernatural. She had always tried to ignore the prophecies of Nixon, but now…Well, so many of that mad young man's predictions had come to pass… and surely it could not be mere coincidence.
'I am not superstitious.' His voice was low and controlled, but the glitter in his dark eyes plainly revealed the anger within. 'But my sister is, and when I saw the ring on your finger, I felt I must have it—'
'As I've said, you need only have mentioned that you had the rest of the set and you could have had it.'
She stared into his face, noticing the tautness of the features which made the smooth olive skin seem so tight that there might not have been any flesh at all over the high, prominent cheekbones.
'So that's why you were so adamant…'He spoke to himself, and it did appear to Kathryn that deep regret echoed in his voice.
'What a waste,' she cried, anger and pain adding a high-pitched note to her accents. 'You gave up the woman you loved and married me when there was no need! But now you're tied, Leon—and you will remain tied because I shall never leave you!' Her wild, uncontrolled fury was leading her to say the first things that entered her mind. She wanted to hurt, as she was being hurt; she wanted to convince him that he would never be free, that he would live out his entire life in regret. 'How you must be gnashing your teeth! You duped me, but you'll pay for it—and you'll continue to pay for the rest of your life!' She tugged at the ring, took it from her finger and threw it across the desk, watching as it slid away and dropped to the floor. 'Take it! Give it to your sister—and I hope she enjoys wearing it—'
'Shut up!' Leon spoke at last, and it was as though he felt she was hurting herself just as much as she was hurting him—or trying to hurt him. 'There's much you do not understand, Kathryn. Oh, I realise that at this moment you feel you know it all, because it appears simple, but you know very little.' He looked steadfastly at her, his anger dissolved. 'I want you to believe that there are certain aspects which you are in the dark about.'
He paused, and after a silent moment she asked, pain thickening her voice, pain that seared her heart and rose to block her throat, 'You married me for the ring? You had no love whatsoever for me?'
It was a few seconds before he replied, 'I did marry you for the ring.'
'Married me without love?'
'I did not love you, no,' he admitted frankly.
She closed her eyes as pain shot through her body. Only now did she realise, with a sense of shock, that, deep within her she had cherished the hope that even though Leon had wanted the ring he had loved her a little as well. But now he had baldly admitted that love had never entered into it; he had married her for his sister's sake.
'You lied when you said you collected antique jewellery.' She had no idea why she should suddenly have recollected a thing like that, for it was of minor importance beside the momentous happenings of the past hour or so.
'I couldn't think of anything else at the time,' he admitted. He seemed to be tense, but in no way unsure of himself, and this Kathryn resented. She felt he should be repentant, humble, in fact. But he portrayed neither emotion. On the contrary, it seemed to Kathryn's unhappy mind that he was as arrogant as ever, that he cared little for the way she had been hurt.
'You
r sister's illness has nothing to do with the curse,' she began, but her husband interrupted her.
'Unfortunately, it has. I firmly believe it's a psychological phenomenon, but there is no doubt at all that Marina's illness was brought on because she had heard of the curse. The doctors are baffled and so have given up trying to do anything for her. But it's my firm opinion that once she has the ring, she will begin to throw off this malady which has well nigh ruined her life and that of my mother.' So serious the tone and the look in his eyes that for a space Kathryn forgot everything except the pressing matter of her sister-in-law's illness.
'She actually believes in the curse?'
'You know she does. You heard enough—or so it appears to me.'
She nodded thoughtfully. 'My professor believed in the curse—well, perhaps not exactly, but he did not ridicule it.'
'Professor?' with interest and an interrogating glance. 'What are you talking about?'
'I forgot… you don't know how I came by the ring.' She went on to tell him everything, watching his changing expression, his surprise which turned to astonishment when she related what happened on her visit to the home of the St. Cleres in Lincolnshire.
'So he obviously believed in the curse,' he said when at last Kathryn had finished speaking.
'Not only believed, but was afraid of it. He couldn't get me out of the house quickly enough.'
Leon looked curiously at her. 'You yourself were never afraid?'
'Of course not,' she answered derisively. 'I enjoyed wearing it…'
She allowed her voice to trail away to silence, and Leon said sharply, 'Are you sure you weren't afraid?'
'Not—not at the time. I mean… no, I haven't ever been afraid because I felt that the curse could not affect me, but now…'
'Yes?'
'I don't know…' She spoke slowly, every nerve in her body tingling. 'If… if it hadn't b-been for the ring, then… then you'd not have married me and… and I'd not be in th-this mess.' All the fight and anger had gone out of her because she was now totally absorbed by the ring, and the curse attached to it. 'It looks very much as if… as if the curse really is effective.' She looked at him, her face pallid, her eyes dull and scared. 'This marriage…'
'You're not in a mess, as you term it,' Leon assured her. 'You are married to me, and this is your home; you're secure for life—'
'Yes, but if this has happened, then what might happen next?' There was a wild and frantic quality about her that brought her husband close, and he reached out to take her hand in his, reassuringly.
His foreign voice was gentle and soothing as he said, 'The jewellery is all together, Kathryn, so you have nothing to fear.'
'I don't know… Oh, it is all stupid! No matter what the professor or that stupid Sir Algernon thought! There are no such things as curses!'
'I firmly agree.'
'Then why did you trouble to get the ring into your family?'
'Because, Kathryn,' he answered with some asperity, 'my sister does believe in curses—at least the curse attached to this jewellery. It was from the moment she heard of it that she became a different person—nothing too noticeable for a week or so, but gradually she became morose, quiet, and would scarcely speak when spoken to. Unknown to either Mother or me, she managed to contact this antique dealer again after she left England, and he wrote to her all about the misfortunes which had befallen the various owners of the jewellery. Marina became ill—really ill, Kathryn; there was no doubt about it, and she became worse as the weeks and months went by, until she actually lost the use of her legs.' He paused a moment, but Kathryn was too intrigued to interrupt, and he continued. 'It might seem incredible to you, as it would to me if I had not seen it for myself. I've just said I firmly believe it's psychological and brought on entirely by Marina herself, and there have been times,' he went on with grim, reflective stress, 'when I could have beaten her, tried to knock some sense into her, but it wouldn't have been any use.'
Kathryn said, 'It's rather like those natives who die when someone sticks pins into their effigies, or hangs them.'
To her surprise, a smile touched the chiselled outline of her husband's mouth. 'Not quite the same, but you have a valid point of similarity. However, we shall see what happens now that Marina has the ring.' He paused, and they both glanced to where it lay on the carpet by the corner of the desk. 'It would be better if you gave it to her,' he suggested, and Kathryn nodded and moved to pick it up. She straightened and was close to her husband. Tears formed a cloud at the backs of her eyes, but it was accusation that looked out from their depths and which rendered her voice husky.
'What about us? I'm not willing to be a proper wife to you anymore.' She was brave to say a thing like that, she knew, but the very thought of sleeping with Leon now that she knew he had no love for her was repugnant, to say the least.
'What exactly am I to infer from that, Kathryn?' he inquired with cool deliberation.
'I can't sleep with you, knowing you don't love me.'
He frowned and sighed, and for a long moment regarded her in silence. 'We've been happy enough so far,' he pointed out. 'I don't see why we shouldn't continue as we have been doing.'
Her chin lifted and sparks lit her eyes. 'You seem to forget that I believed you loved me.'
He turned away, and she could not resist broaching the subject of the girl he had let down when he had decided to marry in order to get the ring.
He swung around and glowered at her. 'How the devil do you know about Eugenia?' he demanded, forgetting that she had briefly mentioned the girl already.
'That was something else I overheard. Marina stated quite emphatically that you loved her.' A small moment of indecision, and then Kathryn added, watching his face closely, 'You were with her in Glifadha— someone called Christos saw you together.'
His mouth went tight. 'There is no longer anything between Eugenia and me,' he said firmly. 'The meeting was a chance one. I had no idea Christos saw me with her.'
'I can't believe you have given her up completely.'
'Kathryn, I happen to be married to you!'
'Christos,' she murmured, feeling it were better to veer the subject. 'He's a friend of Marina's it would seem?'
'He's in love with her, and if it hadn't been for this illness, she'd have married him. I believe I mentioned something about it to you before?'
She nodded reflectively. 'Your mother said he has now found someone else, so how can he be in love with Marina?'
'He has a pillow-friend. One cannot expect him to live the life of a saint simply because Marina's so stupid as to allow herself to become ill as she has.' Short the tone, and impatient. It was clear that, although he had a certain sympathy for his sister, he had little or no patience with the superstitions which had been responsible for her having taken to a wheelchair.
'I don't admire him for having a pillow-friend!'
'He'd not expect you to,' was Leon's smooth rejoinder. 'What you think wouldn't interest Christos in the least.'
She coloured to the roots of her hair as the snub went right home. She glared at Leon and reiterated her intention of not sleeping with him anymore. 'It would be immoral,' she added, knowing that would annoy him.
'Immoral?' with a fractional lift of his straight black brows. 'You're my wife. And if I decide to assert my rights, then I shall do just that.'
She coloured again and turned from him. 'I'll leave you to your work,' she said stiffly. 'I'm going out.'
'Out? Where to?'
'I don't know. I want to think.'
'Well, don't stay out too long. Marina's come to depend on you for company.' His eyes dropped to the ring she held in her fingers. 'Are you going to give her that?'
'Yes—for her birthday.'
He waited a few seconds before saying, quietly and with an edge of gratitude to his voice, 'Thank you, Kathryn. Let us both hope and pray that what's happened hasn't been for nothing.'
She looked at him across the space separating them, her li
ps moving convulsively. 'I've been sacrificed, my life broken, so—yes,' she agreed bitterly, 'let us both hope and pray that at least something good will come out of it.'
Chapter Five
She stood staring at the attractive little Temple of Nike, its weathered stone golden in the sunlight. She had made her way up to the Acropolis, knowing that she would find a certain degree of peace despite the tourists milling about, and the hoarse-throated guides, mainly Greek women in dark clothes and carrying large handbags, as if all their most precious possessions must be carried with them. She caught the voice of one young woman and listened automatically as she told of the ancient custom of bringing a new robe to the goddess Athena every four years. The procession must have been magnificent, she mused, trying to picture the men and maidens bringing the robe up to the Parthenon and clothing the goddess in a ceremony which, though pagan and primitive, was for all that carried out by a people whose beliefs and customs had been instrumental in bringing civilisation to the western world—the whole world, as it was thought at that time, for no one had yet discovered the great lands across the sea.
Kathryn moved but forgot to be careful of the rough stones underfoot, the remains of columns fallen over the centuries and now lying sadly on the ground in a profusion of small pieces of weathered Pentellic marble. She cried out involuntarily as she twisted her ankle, and she would certainly have fallen had not strong arms come out and miraculously caught her even as she toppled forward.
'Oh,' she gasped, instinctively clinging to the young man's arm, 'thank you very much!'
'A pleasure.' He was English, tall, thin and boyish in appearance, with light grey eyes, a clear healthy skin and hair that had a touch of reddish-brown mingling with a lighter colour that was almost blond. 'These stones can be treacherous.'
'I ought to have taken more care. It isn't as if I haven't been here before.' Her ankle hurt when she put her weight on it, and noticing her wince, the young man gently led her over to a fallen column and urged her to sit down. The next moment he was holding her ankle, probing with strong but gentle fingers until, satisfied, he said there was no real damage but that a bruise was already appearing and, he said, she would suffer a little pain for a day or two.