'In this instance,' Stein stated firmly, 'although you might accuse me of insolence, your opinion cannot matter. While for several reasons I might prefer to stay here, I cannot neglect my work. God knows I might have to forgo everything else but my writing.'
Madame frowned. 'But, my grandson, I believe you could live quite comfortably without this, even if you never did another hand's turn in your life. Why exhaust yourself when it is not imperative?'
'It is to me, my dear.' Sandra saw his face grow grim as Madame argued. 'Money alone can come to be meaningless if there is nothing left in life but the spending of it.' 'Your philosophy, Stein, is beyond me,' Madame retorted tartly. 'Why are the young so restless?'
He smiled dryly at that. 'I am not in my teens or even twenties anymore, so there is little use making senseless comparisons. And I would hardly describe a desire to work as being restless.'
As Madame Kartalis paused uncertainly, Sandra strove to get a word in. 'Stein, I must talk to you about this before ' she hesitated, glancing anxiously at his grandmother, 'before you make any final arrangements.'
'They are already made, darling!' he emphasised his endearment with a thread of sarcasm. 'Don't you start being awkward! I might pander occasionally to Grandmother because of her age, but I refuse to do the same for a girl scarcely more than twenty.'
Madame Kartalis, being Greek, and having lived for the greater part of her life in a land where men usually dominated, appeared to think nothing of his decisive dismissal of Sandra's request. She was, though, as Sandra had already
learnt, very aware of the proprieties.
I'm afraid, Stein,' she said slowly, 'what you contemplate is impossible. I have been reluctant to pass on some very sad news to you. Indeed, I had determined to spare you it altogether, until you were much better, anyway. Even now I scarcely know how ... '
Stein lifted his head to interrupt her angrily. 'Haven't I told you, Grandmother, I won't be treated as an invalid!
Which is one thing I'm certainly not! What is this news? Don't tell me Kalnos has been swept into the sea?'
'No,' the old lady's tone became almost as harsh as his, 'but Panayiotis and Gina Mylonas have been.' She watched Stein closely as his face went blank. 'I'm sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, Stein. It happened not long after you came here. They were out on the sea at night. A sudden squall, I believe, was responsible. These can happen often, as you know, on such a rock bound coast, and in their flimsy coracle they would stand little chance. Their bodies were found next day.'
'My God!' Stein rose abruptly from the table and Sandra, too, jumped to her feet, wondering how best to comfort him. She wasn't sure how deeply he was shocked, but she recalled him telling her of these people, how well they had looked after him when he was on Kalnos, the care they took of his house when he was not there. Blinded the way he was, all familiar things were doubly precious and this tragic news must indeed be a blow.
He walked to the window, standing against the darkness of the glass, his tall, well muscled figure giving the impression of indomitable strength and Sandra wasn't sure how to approach him. He raised, as usual, an impregnable barricade between himself and sympathy. Silently the two women watched him, united, at least on this occasion, by their deep concern for him, but when at last he returned to the table his face was once again impassive.
Madame waited a moment until he was seated, then resumed her argument. 'So you see, Stein, it is not possible for
you and Sandra to go there alone without servants. That she is your fiancee only makes the situation more difficult, and to take friends as chaperones would mean you would not be any better off than you are here.'
'There is one way,' he smiled thinly as he looked at Sandra, and she shuddered, seeming to find a hint of the diabolical in the smile that glinted on his hard features.
What awful plan was he hatching up? As long as it didn't concern her she didn't mind!
'Sandra,' he continued, without further explanation to his grandmother, 'you wanted a word with me and, as I must certainly have one with you, I suggest we walk in the gardens. When we come back we might be able to discuss the future more clearly.'
As Sandra, with a murmur of apology to Madame Kartalis, followed him to the garden, her pulse beating heavily with nervous agitation, something told her she wasn't going to hear anything she would welcome. Away from the house she thought she might feel better, but curiously did not. Stein took her arm, but it was he who did the guiding, which proved how familiar he was in these surroundings. They walked to the pool in the moonlight through air which was fragrant with the scent of flowers.
'Stein,' she began hastily, as they traversed a flagged path between a high hedge of cypress, 'I'm sorry about your servants but, as Madame remarked, this seems to make it much more sensible to stay here. Or we could even return to London. I could get a room and help you each day. Or,' she faltered, 'you could find some really expert help. I'm sure there must be plenty available and you would soon get used to someone else.'
'Sit down, Sandra!' They had reached a white-painted bench and he pulled her swiftly to it, sitting himself beside her and keeping hold of her hand. 'Don't worry,' he laughed harshly, 'I don't intend making love to you. I just want to assure myself you will remain until I finish. You have an unfortunate habit of quietly disappearing.'
'What is it you want which seems so important?' she breathed, trying to fix her gaze on the moon rather than him. Annoyingly her voice trembled.
'So you are nervous of me?'
'Sometimes,' she defended herself. 'Your tongue is sharp, kyrie.'
This seemed to amuse him slightly, but when she asked quickly if their expedition into the gardens had anything to do with Kalnos at all, he sobered instantly.
'However did you guess?' he mocked.
It wasn't difficult. Naturally, now your servants are lost we can't go there.'
'Well, I'm certainly not staying here or returning to London.'
Sandra hated his deviousness to the point of exasperation. 'So you do intend going to Kalnos! I expect you can easily find other servants.'
He looked down at her. 'That is the big snag, Sandra, one which my dear grandmother is too aware of. Perhaps I should explain that Kalnos came to me through my mother. It was left to her by her father, my grandfather. I love this part of the world, although normally I don't spend much time in it, but I do find I can work here, especially on Kalnos. Whenever something hasn't worked out the island has always solved my problems.’
'Then,' Sandra forced herself to speak brightly as he paused, 'as I've just said, you must find someone new to look after you.'
Ruefully Stein shrugged. 'This is the snag. The islanders are very superstitious — remember, Kalnos is a very isolated community. For several months they will in some way connect the deaths of Panayiods and Gina with my house there, rather than the fishing they were doing when they were supposed to be working for me. I may be able to persuade someone that my castle isn't haunted by nereids who lure the innocent inhabitants to their doom, but I doubt it. Meanwhile I am not capable of living there alone.'
'So?'
'So you must come with me, girl. As my wife.'
'As your wife!' Sandra's voice rose, almost croaking with astonishment, yet she couldn't immediately take him seriously. 'You must be joking!'
'No,' he snapped shortly, restraining her as she made to jump up. 'Does the thought alarm you?'
Now she really did feel shocked and her eyes widened, but his face, etched darkly against the moonlight, did nothing to reassure her. He looked deadly serious. 'Stein,' she gasped, 'you promised to set me free after spending a few weeks here. We've been here almost five and I thought you'd be letting me go, but now you're practically ordering me to marry you. Are you crazy?'
'Possibly,' his mouth twisted sardonically. 'I might agree with everything you say, but circumstances have altered in a way I couldn't possibly have foreseen. When you agreed to be my fiancee you also promised to
help me with my work, but we haven't done any yet. It's imperative you come with me to Kalnos, and I'm asking you to marry me merely to assure my grandmother's peace of mind. She would feel, if we lived there together unmarried, that we had brought shame on her. Here, you see, etiquette is much stricter than at home. In country districts it is sometimes not even considered proper for a man and a woman to be seen out on their own unless they are engaged.'
'But marriage!' Sandra felt shaken, as if she had been running a long way. How could Stein sit there and discuss such a thing so coolly? She couldn't even think of it like that. Desperately she stared at him. 'Stein, I still think you're crazy. Our contract, if you can call it that, was for just a few weeks; marriage is permanent! Suppose it's simply a business arrangement to satisfy Madame Kartalis, what happens when we return to England?'
'We can get an annulment. There's always divorce.'
The easy way out, or was it? Sandra gazed blankly over the shimmering pool which stretched before them, glinting in the
moonlight. When Stein liked he could be extremely glib. He wouldn't think twice of using her, then casting her off, not caring how she suffered. There might be worse fates, but she couldn't think, of any. To be made to endure a make-believe engagement was bad enough, but a bogus marriage was surely more than any girl could be expected to tolerate.
'I couldn't,' she whispered fervently, 'I simply couldn't!'
'I'm afraid you'll have to,' he rejoined grimly. 'Nor can I
afford to
waste time persuading you. I have a contract for my next book and a deadline to meet. I have to go to Kalnos. In fact I need to.'
She felt too stunned to ask what he meant by that and all her resources concentrated on her own predicament. 'You can't force me.'
'Maybe not,' his jaw set harshly, 'but I can make things very difficult for both you and your cousin — if you continue to refuse.'
'Alexandra?'
'The same. Perhaps her new husband would enjoy hearing a few of the more sordid details of her life. I could almost guarantee they would wreck her marriage —but you could always be around to help pick up the pieces.'
'You're despicable!' Sandra gulped, having no idea what he was talking about. 'Have you forgotten you were engaged to her yourself?'
He stared at her, his dark brows narrowing, as if he was undecided about something. 'That's neither here nor there — perhaps I've had a lucky escape. Listen, Sandra,' he relented suddenly, his voice softer, 'I'm merely making a business proposition and you have no need to fear I will take advantage of it.'
Her cheeks hot, she looked at him scornfully. 'I wouldn't let you! But I've read about this kind of thing. I know what can happen eventually. Oh, I know it can end very happily in books, but I don't believe it's at all like that in real life.' 'You're blind,' she rushed on, heedless for once of hurting him, 'you haven't ever seen me. Imagine regaining your sight and seeing what a plain Jane you're married to!'
If she had hoped this would dismay him she was mistaken. 'I don't believe for one minute,' his voice was laced with a faint amusement, 'that you are plain. I've held you, remember, and I can see very clearly with my hands. While you might not be an outstanding beauty, you are slim and your features are regular. I certainly wouldn't anticipate dying with horror if, as you so sweetly put it, I regained my sight.'
Inspiration suddenly shot through Sandra, though it only came reluctantly to her lips. 'What about Sophy?'
'If you mean why don't I ask her to go with me, then forget it. I've already told you this is a business proposition. Sophy is perhaps for the future. I wouldn't insult her with this. She would most likely die of boredom within a week if I took her to Kalnos.'
'And it doesn't matter about me?'
He ignored her bitterness. 'You might not feel so good about this, Sandra, but I can assure you you won't regret it. For a start you can tear up the cheque Arnold gave you. I'll see you're much more satisfied with mine. Don't you think it will be nice to be independent of Alexandra after the way she has treated you? And, as for taking advantage of the situation, when we marry, you can forget that too. Do you think I'd ever want to be permanently committed to someone even distantly connected with my ex-fiance? When I contemplate a real marriage and family I don't want my son's blood tainted by any similar to hers.'
It was only a week, though it seemed much longer than that, before Sandra sat beside Stein in the hired helicopter on their way to Kalnos. This was the only form of air transport able to land on the island and a stranger flew them. Madame Kartalis had told her Stein was himself an experienced pilot and used to hire a self-drive helicopter in the days before his accident. Sandra could see he didn't care to be just a passenger, but had
resigned himself grimly.
Glancing quickly at him now, she drew a quick breath and looked down at her hands. She and Stein had been married that morning by an obliging pappas — priest—on Corfu and the whole ceremony, like the last few days, had seemed slightly unreal. She had worn a calf-length dress in white chiffon with a small white veil. She didn't think she would have bothered, but Madame Kartalis had insisted she be dressed like a proper bride. And, because the old lady was so patently disappointed in Stein's choice of a bride, Sandra had felt, ironically, that she couldn't refuse.
Stein had kept to his expressed intention of buying her a new wardrobe, but she had managed to scrape enough together to buy her own wedding dress. She had been as stubborn over this as Madame had been over the colour. Her old clothes she had given to Katrina, who had been delighted with them, as Stein predicted, but the one new dress she really treasured was her wedding one. She had a curious feeling she would never have another. She loved Stein too much ever to want to marry anyone else. This was the real reason why she had married him.
After their fierce argument in the garden she had vowed never to do as he asked, but next morning she had given in. The thought of him going to Kalnos alone with no one to look after him was more than she could bear. Yet the deep compassion, which seemed to be eating away at her very soul had been nothing to the depth of love she felt for him, a love that seemed to have stirred and blossomed from the very beginning. This morning in the church, as she had walked towards him, she had felt it illuminate her face, to such a degree that she had been shamefully glad he couldn't see. Madame Kartalis, she knew, had, as her sharp old eyes missed very little, but Sandra doubted if this altered the old lady's initial opinion of her.
The ceremony itself had been rather strange, but she had found it immeasurably moving. Stein had complied with a few of the age-old customs by the exchanging of rings and walking three times around the altar. The atmosphere in the small, whitewashed church had been such that it had all seemed completely natural. Surprisingly he had given Sandra another engagement ring, replacing the one she had worn since leaving London. It wasn't as valuable as Alexandra's had been, he warned, but he thought more of it as it had belonged to his mother. Nevertheless, it was a charming ring and, in Sandra's eyes far outshone the more expensive band of pure gold that went on after it.
Afterwards, at the house, there had only been a small reception as Stein had stubbornly held out against inviting everyone they knew. 'Maybe next time,' he had smiled grimly, when his grandmother protested, and only Sandra seemed aware that he meant exactly what he said.
Unconsciously her former fears that he would demand everything a new husband was entitled to began to fade as they flew over the blue Aegean. Below them small islands rose out of the sea, some jet black with volcanic ash but most of them a beautiful verdant green. Sandra was astonished at the number of them. Obligingly the pilot named a few over which they passed and Stein mentioned the occasional one as belonging to a millionaire, some of whom spent almost the entire summer here. From the size of many of the yachts lying at anchorage in the deep, still waters, she was not so surprised to learn of their wealthy owners and felt a very human twinge of envy at the thought of long, sun-baked days on such wonderful shores.
She wasn't sure why she ever imagined it would be, but Kalnos was far from disappointing when they reached it. And because it looked as if it could take some getting around on foot, she was pleased she had a good view of it from the air. It would help her fix a true picture in her mind which might have been impossible otherwise. It was a long island, compared with some — she guessed about four or five English miles, and varied in width. She saw what seemed to be a village about half way along, clinging to a hillside, but most of it looked barren, covered with low scrub and olive groves. She felt extraordinarily relieved that the end they were making for seemed wooded, with green valleys and some mountainous hills; she could even make out the odd stream tumbling down over rocks.
Over the top of the highest peak the pilot began his descent and she noticed a house of vast proportions nestling at the foot of an incline. There didn't appear to be any proper garden or lawn to land on but, a little distance from the house, there was a flat paved area and the pilot brought the helicopter neatly down on this.
'I had this laid out when I used to ferry myself,' Stein said wryly, indicating the half covered shed at the bottom of the concrete. 'That was necessary because of the storms we can get in winter.'
'Oh, I see.' They were standing alone as the pilot had gone, after declining Stein's offer of a meal. Sandra felt hot with confusion as the expression on the man's face had clearly betrayed his feelings. He had obviously decided she and Stein couldn't wait to get into each other's arms, and had no wish to witness any embarrassing display of affection.
He need not have worried. Sandra thought it improbable, even if Stein had been in love, that he would ever show his feelings in public. Watching him as she stood on the edge of the terrace, letting the wind play softly over his face, she was almost envious of his fortitude. What wouldn't she give for less than half of it!
The Devil's Bride Page 10