The Devil's Bride

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The Devil's Bride Page 7

by Margaret Pargeter


  That Stein had allowed it, not turning a hair when his grandmother had coolly insulted her, seemed even more reprehensible. After all, she was supposed to be his fiancee! Uneasily Sandra wandered to the window, staring out over the olive groves, pale green and silver, to the sea. There had been such a hard gleam to his eyes as they had rested on her that she had found it difficult to believe he was really blind, and so helpless.

  Suddenly stricken with remorse, Sandra clutched her hand to her mouth and, with a dismayed gasp, she was across the room and downstairs again before she quite realised. She must find Stein! How quickly she forgot his condition. He was in need of help, not anger and resentment, no matter how he provoked her. Wasn't it a sign of weakness that he just needed to make her furious and all her good resolutions seemed to disappear?

  There was no one in the great hall, so she ran. into the salon hoping to find him there. He wasn't to be seen, but Madame Kartalis was still there, regally upright on her hard chair, the impact of her black intent gaze bringing Sandra up short. The shock of that hard-eyed regard went right through Sandra, making her shiver.

  'I'm looking for Stein,' she faltered, brushing back her flying hair with one hand. 'He could need my help.'

  'Come here, child!' the harsh voice, which still retained an effective degree of strength for all her great age, seemed to encircle Sandra, drawing her in spite of herself.

  'I was looking for Stein,' she repeated.

  'How could you help him?' Madame asked coldly as Sandra drew nearer. 'I am told you are typing his new book, but he surely is not bothering with that just now?' 'No,' Sandra agreed nervously, 'not right at this moment, madame.'

  'Then what did you hope to do for him, Miss Weir?' Sandra felt her cheeks go red but returned the old lady's stare defiantly. 'I — I thought he might need help with his clothes? In the hotel '

  'Yes?' Madame's eyes were beady as she paused and, too late, Sandra recalled Stein's advice.

  'Nothing,' Sandra's voice faltered guiltily. 'I merely helped him find the right shirt.'

  'I see.' Madame's voice went even icier with disapproval. 'I suppose, being a foreigner, you have no shame! You stay in one of the best known establishments in Athens and help my grandson to dress.' Distractedly she flung up her claw-like hands. 'What are my friends to say to this! We will be the subject of ridicule all over the island and beyond. Hadn't I hoped he would marry a virgin? We Greeks set much store by this and a man of Stein's standing usually chooses wisely. I hadn't fully realised the pitfalls for someone who has lost his sight.'

  'Please!' Sandra's eyes went huge in her white face as a wave of despair shook her. Dear God, did she need such an enemy? Surely Madame didn't have to judge her like this, pronouncing her in the wrong when she scarcely knew her? 'I've told you, I only helped with his clothes!'

  'Well, you won't have to do even that while you ar

  ‘Yes, kyrie.'

  Gasping with dismay, she tried to pull away from h

  'Well, you won't have to do even that while you are here, girl,' the old lady said tardy. 'Thimios is looking after him, so please confine yourself to your own quarters. Remember, if a man loses his respect for a girl he may also lose his desire to marry her. We have beautiful girls on this island who would make him a much more suitable wife.'

  'Yes, madame!' Her exclamation of agreement far from servile, Sandra turned without another word and ran swiftly back to her own room.

  Dinner was a quiet affair. They dined late and Sandra, who hadn't caught sight of Stein since they had arrived, felt an overwhelming surge of relief to see him walking towards her, his confident stride never faltering until he stood by her side.

  'I don't know how you manage,' Madame spoke abruptly, as they went into the dining room. 'You never put a foot wrong.'

  'That's because I know this house like the back of my hand and I remembered you never change the furniture around.' He shot an amused glance at Sandra. 'I have also reason to be grateful to Sandra. She wears always a distinctive, flower-like perfume. It's perhaps my good fortune that it appears to be the only one she has.'

  Sandra bit her lip hard. 'It was given to me by my last employer when I left. I'm fond of it,' she added defensively.

  'Then I shall have to buy you some other.' Stein's softer mood dispersed curtly. 'I don't fancy having my fiancee saturated by another man's gift.'

  Madame said quickly, ignoring this little aside, 'You will feel better after you've been with me a few weeks, Stein. You were brought up here and familiar surroundings are usually comforting.'

  When Stein made no reply she continued, with a sharp glance in Sandra's direction at the other side of the long table. 'Already, Stein, after a few short hours you look more relaxed. My house and my presence will probably do you more good than your fiancee, who possibly imagines to do so by dressing up in something ridiculously flimsy and

  brushing her hair loose like a wanton. Can't you restrain it, girl?'

  'I — it's not very long,' Sandra replied carefully, trying desperately to keep her voice even. Whatever happened she must not allow Madame to provoke her to anger. Her dress was thin, but the night was warm and she was sure it wasn't suggestive, as Madame seemed to imply.

  'I believe you are an actress or something?' Madame's voice implied that this was something less than desirable.

  Sandra's face paled with apprehension. She didn't know what to say, not knowing what Stein had told his grandmother. 'There was only one film,' she faltered.

  'What colour is your dress, Sandra?' Stein cut in, his hand pausing on the fine old silver, as if in two minds whether or not to come to her rescue.

  'Green,' Madame laughed coldly without giving Sandra a chance to speak. 'Green like her cat's eyes, and it barely covers her smooth shoulders. Not that I perhaps need tell you how smooth they are,' she said acidly, 'when you have already stayed together in Athens.'

  Stein smiled, if anything seeming to enjoy his grandmother's outrageous conversation and having little regard for Sandra's almost palpable agitation. He quoted, as he had once done before to Sandra, 'Being blind doesn't, in some ways, make me any less of a man, Grandmother. And Sandra is not a Greek.'

  'That I realise!' The old voice was heavily accentuated. 'How

  long have you been betrothed?'

  'Some time.' As if he could actually see Sandra's flaming cheeks he taunted diabolically, 'Too long — months!' 'Months?' Noisily enjoying her soup, Madame shrugged. 'And you have never been a patient man, Stein.'

  'No,' he agreed, his eyes glinting.

  Still hot-cheeked, Sandra kept her long lashes lowered on the sparkling crystal. They talked as though she wasn't there and, because of her real position in Stein's life, she wasn't able to get up and walk out as she would liked to have done. She had never met anyone with quite such a sharp tongue as Madame Kartalis and found her frankness increasingly disconcerting. Even now she was continuing.

  'I remember, Stein, when you fell in love with Sophy and would have her right away. You had been gone from Corfu some years then and had forgotten a Greek girl's reticence.'

  Her pulse jerking painfully, Sandra glanced quickly at Stein, but met only the mocking smile on his mouth.

  As if hearing her sharply indrawn breath, he answered coolly, 'As one grows older one learns that a more subtle approach is wiser. In the end it usually accomplishes the same thing just as swiftly.'

  Madame frowned, as if about to favour her grandson this time with one of her censorious retorts, but Katrina entered followed by a maid carrying dishes of rich veal flavoured distinctively with herbs. There was, to Sandra, a welcome silence while plates were removed and replaced, but it did not last long. As soon as the servants had gone again, Madame began talking again.

  'You won't mind, Stein, if I invite a few younger people while you are here? So many of our friends have enquired about you since your accident. I fear they will be offended if I don't tell them of your presence here.'

  'Yes, ask who you
like,' he agreed suavely, without consulting Sandra, 'Only remember, Grandmother, I have work to do.'

  The old lady's shoulders lifted, as though this was the last consideration. 'It is better that you relax for a while.'

  Stein smiled lightly, turning his dark head towards her across the table. 'Will Sophy be coming with the rest?' he asked blandly.

  'Yes, yes.' Madame reached out approvingly and tapped his fingers, 'She is still unmarried and, I suspect, retains a fondness for you. In fact it is she who has been enquiring most.'

  'Such concern I indeed find comforting,' he nodded, casting a derisive glance at Sandra. 'I receive so little of it. Maybe I could do with more evidence of affection.'

  'I didn't think you would welcome being fussed over so obviously,' Sandra couldn't help retorting waspishly.

  'Oh,' he said, speaking softly, 'I imagine I could stand it.' After the meal he sat drinking coffee and talking to his grandmother, and as their conversation was mostly in Greek, Sandra was unable to join in. Not that she really wanted to as Madame's tongue, when addressing her, merely seemed to get sharper and Stein's apparent indifference hurt, but, she thought wistfully, it might have been nice to have been included in some more general topics than those they had discussed. She imagined Madame was asking questions about Stein's accident as his expression was sometimes remote, as if he kept his patience with difficulty. Sandra recalled the same cool mask whenever she herself had dared to broach the same subject.

  Yet, for all she was excluded from their talk, she found herself listening with pleasure to his deep voice and watching him furtively beneath her lashes. This latter was becoming a habit and it bewildered her to realise there were times when she couldn't seem to keep her eyes off him, never tiring of his rugged face, his strong, tall body.

  The lights swayed slightly in the gentle breeze coming in through the window and, as it played on his face, Stein rose to his feet. 'I'd like a word with you, Sandra, before you go to bed. We dine late here, as you know, and already it is almost midnight.' His fingers lightly touched his Brailled watch.

  "Yes, of course." She went curiously to his side, wondering what he could have to discuss with her at this hour.

  'Perhaps we might take a stroll in the moonlight? Thimios tells me the moon is full, so you should be able to see where we are going.'

  The dryness in his voice not going unheeded, Sandra followed him out after saying a polite goodnight to his grandmother.

  The old lady was about to retire. Katrina was waiting to escort her to bed and from the way in which she was shaking her head, Sandra guessed it was long past Madame's usual bedtime. Stein kissed his grandmother gently.

  There was scent in the garden from the flowers and the cypress trees. The sun had long since gone down and the air was cooler. Below them, as they wandered to the edge of the isthmus, not a ripple disturbed the surface of the bay, and above, as Thimios had promised, the moon sailed in full splendour.

  'You must have known of the moonlight in Athens last night?' Sandra said suddenly, very aware of his hand thrust through her arm, holding her to his side. 'You were late getting in.'

  'So you noticed?'

  'No, of course not!' It was the truth that she had been asleep when he had got back, but she needn't tell him of the long hours she had lain awake listening for him, wondering anxiously if he was all right, wondering even more feverishly if it was a woman who kept him out so late. 'Why did you want to see me alone?' she asked quickly.

  'I wanted to ask you to be pleasant to my grandmother,' he rejoined mildly. 'She is getting old and doesn't always consider what she says.'

  Was this a kind of apology? If only she could be sure!' I try to be pleasant,' she said stiffly, making a futile effort to ease away from him. If they were going to have another quarrel she could conduct her side of it better with a little distance between them.

  'I don't believe you've tried very hard,' he retorted.

  The unfairness of this smote Sandra harshly. Even with allowances for Madame's great age she was still an old devil!

  Anger freed her tongue impulsively as she swung around to him. 'Listen, Stein, I came here against my will but prepared to be friendly with all your relations. How can it be my fault that your grandmother seems to have

  taken an unfair dislike to me, an aversion you deliberately seem to be fostering! All the time she was accusing me of not being able to give you a dozen children you just stood by, letting her say what she liked!'

  He looked down on her from his great height, his face hardening. 'It was quite obvious that you found even the thought of having my children repulsive. No man would welcome that.'

  Gulping, her heart beating so much faster, Sandra felt trapped, as much by the sheer force of her own emotions as what he said. 'There's a time and place for everything,' she managed weakly.

  His eyebrows lifted indifferently. 'But for someone of my grandmother's age time and opportunity can be limited. This is possibly why she is so outspoken. Also she worries, naturally, that I might not have a son and heir.'

  'I notice,' Sandra burst out bitterly, 'how you always consider your family and yourself, never me. '

  Grimly his hands came up to grasp her. 'So you feel sorry for yourself, Miss Weir? Why should I give you sympathy and help? Did either you or Alexandra ever consider me?'

  Sandra's voice rose as tremors ran through her. 'Why do you always drag this up? Surely I've paid a thousand times over for Alexandra's sins? How you do like your pound of flesh.' 'I don't consider you've paid anything like enough, my dear.' His voice was so deadly quiet she trembled with a sudden terror. 'Your cousin was at fault, but your deception is the greater. It was you who turned the situation into a pantomime and must be prepared to pay the price. Last night I almost decided to return early and visit you in your bed, but no such torture is effective if applied too quickly — none, that is, but the final culmination. But until then, I have vowed to take my time with you, so you will know what it is like to suffer.'

  'Stein!' As the leashed savageness of his rage swept over her she struggled desperately. 'Let me go! Losing your eyesight has maddened you!'

  'Perhaps,' he agreed, dragging her closer, so that her dress tore.

  If you could only see,' she sobbed, 'you would realise!'

  'I can't see, damn you! Only my senses can do that for me.' He caught her to him with a hungry, angry urgency which she couldn't escape. Ruthlessly he tore the narrow strap from off one of her shoulders and buried his lips in the hollow against the bone. 'I can feel, and if this has to be enough, so far as you're concerned, you little cheat, I'm willing to settle for it.'

  Dismayed, Sandra tried to move, but felt her bones and muscles were dissolving to jelly and, as the pressure of his mouth deepened on her warm skin, she became conscious of the clamour of her blood that demanded she make no continuing objection to being crushed in his arms. To struggle seemed only to entice him further. He twisted her into the angle of one arm, where she couldn't move, holding her in an angry yet sensual grip, while one hand wandered down the small of her back to pull her tightly against him. Then she felt his firm touch moving over her half bared breasts.

  'You little impostor!' he muttered thickly as, fighting the lustful feelings he aroused in her, she tried again to push him away. 'Don't tell me you're indifferent. That I won't believe. How many men have you been with, I wonder?' 'None!' she gasped, hating him.

  Even his hard, sceptical laughter hurt. 'No honesty anywhere,' he muttered, his head dropping to follow the direction of his hand.

  As she felt the rough grate of his chin over her sensitive flesh she gave a strangled gasp. 'Stein!' his name came out on an agonised breath. 'You don't know what you're doing to me!'

  'Don't I?' his voice took on a low note dryness. 'You must take me for a fool, sweetheart.'

  Again she tried to tell him to stop, but before she could speak his mouth was on hers, his lips hot against her lips

  and, as a lascivious surge of an
swering passion swept through her, she closed her eyes against the moon swaying dizzily.

  It was some time before he raised his head and suddenly thrust her away. 'Enough!' he said brutally.

  Shaking, feeling as though she were on fire, Sandra drew back instinctively as his arms fell from her. 'Never do that again—I hate it!' she choked, hating herself more that she dared not admit the truth—that all she really wanted was to be back in his arms. Silently to herself she acknowledged this. He had some hold on her, some tenacious emotional grip on her senses that could yield her totally helpless against him, but she would rather die than let him know.

  'Come,' he was saying harshly, you're only convincing yourself, although I doubt if you're succeeding to do even that! Can you manage to lead me back through the gardens?

  I can't be expected to remember every stick and stone out here and you can be grateful I couldn't trust myself to carry you to the nearest grassy hollow. Whoever heard of a would-be lover falling over his feet?'

  Once more she had to endure his hold on her arm and bite her bruised lips against the tremors his words sent through her. Was this, she wondered dully, the peculiar mystery of seducement? She had looked at him and something within her had responded immediately to his virile, animal-like attraction, quickening her pulse and breath in a way she would never have believed possible. And it wasn't the expression in his eyes which excited her, because he couldn't see. This was something, she realised, she would have to fight, if it wasn't to lead to heartache, but she wished dearly that she knew how.

  'Tomorrow morning,' Stein instructed, as they reached the house, 'you will come to my study. Thimios will show you where it is, and we will begin revising my first chapter. Please be there on time.'

  'I thought you weren't going to start work again until you were on your island?'

  His voice dealt impatiently with the uncertainty in hers. 'Do I employ you to do as you're told or not?'

 

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