Apollo's Daughter

by Rebecca Stratton

  His greeting seemed friendly enough and she relaxed just a little, a slight smile touching the soft contours of her mouth for a moment as she answered. 'I'm well, thank you, cousin; are you?'

  She would have sworn that he frowned over her use of the familiar cousin, although she did not look at him to confirm it. She was very thankful that he didn't kiss her as he had Alexia, but merely contented himself with a handshake, and she heaved an inward sigh of relief that the first encounter had been less discomfiting than she had anticipated.

  Ever the watchful hostess. Alexia offered the tradi-

  tional hospitality. 'You will take loukoumiT she offered. 'And coffee?'

  'Thank you, I will.'

  Whi}e Alexia left them to go to the kitchen, Bethany sat down with Takis and the newcomer, just as she always did when there was company; Alexia had never wanted it any other way. But when Bethany sat down as well, instead of following her aunt into the kitchen, Nikolas Meandis eyed her curiously for a moment.

  For the first time ever, Bethany felt like an outsider. Something in those watching eyes reminded her that Takis was a blood relation while she was merely adopted into the Meandis family. But it was possible that he wanted to talk to Takis alone, man to man, so she got up from her chair, murmuring an excuse, and went to find Alexia in the kitchen. 'I think they want to talk about Papa,' she explained when Alexia looked up, obviously surprised at her appearance.

  'Very possibly,' Alexia agreed, then went on with her preparations, glancing only briefly to judge Bethany's expression when she sought her opinion. 'You see now how wrong you were about Niko, child?'

  Unwilling to be committed so soon, Bethany shrugged. She put soft, sticky Turkish delight into a dish, then licked the powdery white sugar from her fingers before setting the dish on the tray her aunt was preparing. 'Maybe,' she allowed cautiously. 'But I'd rather wait and see what happens before I make up my mind. Aunt Alex.'.

  As it happened, her caution was justified sooner than she expected. For it was after they had enjoyed the excellent lunch that Alexia had made them and yet more coffee was required that Nikolas Meandis made it quite clear what was in store for her. He could have no further need to talk alone with Takis, and he had expounded his opinions during lunch in such a way that none of them was left in any doubt that he was every bit as traditionally minded as Papa had suggested. When Alexia got up to fetch the coffee, he

  again looked across at Bethany with the same suggestion of disapproval.

  'Surely your help is needed to prepare the coffee?' he suggested, and for the moment Bethany did not see the trap she was stepping into.

  Smiling, she shook her head. 'Oh no, it's all right,' she told him in her blithe innocence. 'Aunt Alex al-way does it.'

  It took her a moment or two to realise what kind of view he would take of the situation and she felt herself colouring furiously when she realised. He had no idea that Alexia did such jobs herself^because she preferred it that way, and she could see that he merely saw it as another indication of her too lenient upbringing.

  'Then I suggest it is time Aunt Alexia had some assistance,' he told her in a quiet, firm voice.

  The place for women was in the kitchen, not sitting with the men and waiting to be served; his opinion was clear enough, and Bethany's cheeks were burning as she got hastily to her feet. She almost ran from the room with her hands clenched tightly against the stiff blackness of her skirt, and a churning hardness like a lead weight in her stomach.

  In the kitchen, bright with copper pans and scarlet geraniums in pots. Alexia turned curiously to see who had followed her, and when she saw Bethany's flushed cheeks and suspiciously bright eyes, she came across to her, her gentle face anxious and enquiring. 'Bethany child, what's wrong?'

  Struggling for a moment with mingled anger and humiliation, Bethany stood by the kitchen table, her clenched hands pressed on to the scrubbed wooden top. 'I have to help you with the coffee,' she managed in a small strangled voice. 'Aunt Alex, you know I'd

  help you if you wanted me to, but you never will '

  She swallowed hard, fighting the need to cry with every nerve in her body, and shaking like a leaf. 'Oh, he's every bit as bad as I remember him! He thinks I'm lazy and spoiled, and he still despises me as he did that other time. He'll be awful to me, I know he will!

  Oh, Aunt Alex, I hate him I I hate him and I won't stay and be treated like—like a—I'll go away I He can't stop me; I'm old enough, he can't stop mel

  'Bethany, little one!'

  Alexia's dark eyes were troubled and she took the small clenched hands in hers, trying to ease their angry tension with her gentle fingers. If Bethany had not been suffering so much from hurt pride and a sense of injustice, she would have noticed the old lady's concern and realised that with her outburst she was simply making a difficult situation worse. But her sympathy was turned inward at the moment, and her spirit revolted against being so pointedly blamed for her shortcomings, rather than against being expected to help.

  Tou mustn't talk like that,' Alexia insisted gently. 'You cannot go away, child, when it was your papa's wish that you stay.'

  *It wasn't Papa's wish that I should be reprimanded for something not my fault, and made to look small before that man had been in the house five minutes!' Bethany insisted in a voice that rose despite her efforts to control it. *He doesn't like me. Aunt Alex, any more than he did the first time he came here, and I can't— I won't stay and be treated like a '

  'Like a spoiled child?' a deep quiet voice enquired from the doorway, and Bethany swung quickly round, her eyes bright and shimmering with tears. *I could not help but overhear,' Nikolas Meandis informed her. He stood just inside the kitchen with one hand in a pocket, and looking deceptively cool and casual until one looked at the gleaming darkness of his eyes. *I wasn't aware that I was being unreasonable by suggesting you help with making the coffee,' he went on. *It's surely one of the tasks a woman normally does about the house, isn't it?'

  'It isn't really necessary for Bethany to help, Niko,' Alexia told him in her gently persuasive voice, but he would hear no opinion but his own firmly established one.

  'Bethany is no longer a child, Aunt Alexia,' he told the old lady quietly. *She is a woman and f)erfectly capable of doing a woman's work; it isn't reasonable that you should still be working as you do while Bethany '

  'I would help I' Bethany interrupted, huskily angry, and the interruption brought the dark gaze back to her.

  'Then you will make the coffee while I discuss some matters with Aunt Alexia,' Nikolas decreed. 'Do you know how to make coffee?'

  Fuming, but keeping Alexia's cautionary warning in mind, Bethany nodded. Never since her early childhood had she been spoken to so harshly, and she resented it because she considered it uncalled-for. 'Yes, of course I know how to make coffee!'

  'Then please do so while I talk to Aunt Alexia,' Nikolas said, and moved across to his aunt, taking her arm and firmly edging her towards the door. 'JLater on I shall wish to speak to you as well, Bethany, but that can wait. It seems there's a great deal that needs to be discussed if I'm to make a success of being guardian to you and Takis.'

  'Not necessarily to me,' Bethany denied swiftly. 'I'm not really your responsibility, I'm not even Greek in fact '

  'You're Greek by adoption,' Nikolas insisted, and his eyes narrowed as if he sought the reason for her sudden denial of her adopted country. 'By adopting you, my cousin made you a member of our family, therefore you are my responsibility, whether you like it or not, and I shall see that you do nothing to bring shame on my family's name.'

  'By being independent?' Bethany guessed, and Nikolas looked at her steadily.

  'By being unfeminine and wilful,' he corrected her quietly. 'When the coffee is ready we'll have it outside, if you please.*

  Bethany turned on him and her eyes blazed with the fury of frustration, her cheeks bright with colour. If

  only Alexia had not been there she would have told him exactly what she
thought of him. Not that she had anything at all against helping Aunt Alexia or of making the coffee and serving it, but she hated his high-handed way of stressing her lack of, as he saw it, feminine qualities.

  'You '

  'Outside, if you please,* Nikolas stressed firmly, and looked down at her with a harsh determined gleam in his eyes that was completely at variance with the gentle way he treated his aunt.

  Her hands were trembling and Bethany had never felt so shiveringly angry in her life before, but she caught the look of appeal in Alexia's eyes for a moment and swallowed hard on the response she had ready. Without another word she turned and walked across the kitchen with her head high, thankful that at least he could not see the suspicion of tears in her eyes or he might have misconstrued their cause. For the moment she could see no other way but to do as he said, but she would think of something, she swore she would.

  Bethany had helped to wash up and to prepare dinner, and provided coffee whenever it was required. Rather surprisingly her coffee seemed to be the best she had ever made and she wondered if she had unconsciously made more of an effort than she usually did, just to prove to Nikolas Meandis that she was not as lazy and incompetent as he obviously thought her.

  What she did not relish, the following morning, was taking out his breakfast to him in the garden, but Alexia had thought it would be a gesture that showed her willingness to work as hard as anyone. Alexia herself deliberately delayed her own arrival and it was never easy to get Takis out of bed in the morning, so that the only ones astir that bright hot morning were Bethany and the hated newcomer.

  Discarding the drab formality of black, she blossomed out in one of the light, thin, gaily coloured

  dresses she more normally wore, and her hair was freed of the severe knot to blow around her face in the soft morning breeze as she walked out on to the little stone terrace. The tray she carried held fresh-baked rolls as well as coffee, and a pot of their own honey, sweet and golden, prepared by Aunt Alexia.

  Her slim legs were bare and her sandalled feet slapped lightly on the paved ground while she concentrated on keeping the tray balanced evenly. She almost dropped it when two much larger hands reached out for it and took it from her. 'Good morning, Bethany.'

  She muttered a reply, following Nikolas to the small wooden table set below the garden's one tall plane tree, and he did not, she noted, make a move to help further once he had put down the tray on the table. Sitting down, he sat back in his chair and crossed his long legs one over the other, regarding her for a moment in silence.

  Tou no longer wear mourning,' he said, and instinctively Bethany's hand tightened on the handle of the little briki of coffee so that it banged down on to the table much more firmly than she intended.

  Tapa never liked mourning,' she told him, and noticed how anxious her voice sounded. She did not want to begin disagreeing with him this early in the day, and for Alexia's sake she vowed she would not. 'It isn't any disrespect, Nikolas, we—^we just don't think that way.'

  'I understand.' His words startled her, and she stared at him, but he seemed unaware of the effect he had, and eyed the little basket of bread rolls with apparent interest. 'Did you make these?'

  Bethany nodded, wondering what his verdict would be, for bread-making was not her strong fK)int. Setting a plate and a cup and saucer in front of him with the usual accompanying glass of water, she supposed she had better enlarge on her admission. He would discover soon enough just how successful she had been.

  I'm not very good at bread,' she admitted, with a

  hint of defiance. *But you said I was to give Aunt Alex a hand and I have/

  For a moment he said nothing, helping himself to coffee while she stood there watching him. Then he looked up at her and she thought there was a suspicion of a smile about his mouth before he spoke. *Do you so dislike domesticity, Bethany?'

  'No.' She felt awkward, schoolgirlish, and she resented the feeling mostly because he was causing it. *I just don't like being blamed for something that isn't my fault, that's all.'

  *Ah I' He sipped his coffee, thick and black and unsweetened, she noticed. Then he looked at the tray before glancing up at her again. *Am I to breakfast alone? Aren't you or the others coming to join me?'

  Bethany was so tempted to tell him that she knew her place better than to suppose she was allowed to eat in his company, but she held her tongue for the sake of peace. 'Aunt Alex isn't quite ready,' she told him, 'and Takis isn't up yet.'

  'And you?' He asked the question softly, holding the coffee cup between his big hands while he looked at her. 'Don't you eat breakfast, Bethany, or are you simply making an exception of this occasion?'

  'I do; of course I do.'

  She held the empty tray in front of her looking oddly defensive and finding it easier not to meet his eyes. 'Then fetch yourself a cup and saucer and a plate and have breakfast with me,' Nikolas told her. 'I'm not used to eating alone and I find it rather lonely.'

  Bethany did as he said and brought herself the necessary implements before she questioned his meaning about being lonely. 'Do you have a large family?' she asked, and hastily avoided the dark-eyed glance that questioned her.

  'If you mean have I a lot of children,' he told her, biting into one of her crusty rolls, 'I am not married, Bethany.' Somehow it was so difficult to avoid looking at him, and again she caught his eyes before hastily avoiding them. 'Did you think I was?' he asked.

  Bethany stirred sugar into her coffee with an entirely automatic gesture, trying to decide just how much she did know about him. It was little enough, she had to admit, for Papa had not been one to talk about his absent family. But Nikolas Meandis was over thirty and she had to allow that he was an attractive man, even though it was a rather austere kind of attraction, and apart from that it was customary for a man of his age to be married and have a family.

  1 naturally assumed you were,' she told him after a few seconds' consideration.

  'Did you?' She found those dark eyes across the table very disconcerting, and wished herself anywhere but sharing a table with him. 'What are your own feelings about marriage, Bethany?'

  To say that she was surprised was understating her reaction, and Bethany stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, then shook her head. She was again reminded of her stepfather's tentative mention of the subject not long before he died, but if finding a husband for her was one of the tasks he had entrusted to his cousin then she might as well tell him her own feelings about it right away.

  'I have no intention of marrying anyone I don't love,' she informed him in as firm a voice as she could manage in the circumstances. 'I don't intend being married oft to just anyone, like most of the island girls are, Nikolas, I might as well tell you that right from the beginning. When I meet a man I want to marry, then I'll marry him, but until I do—no!'

  1 see.'

  His quiet acceptance of it was unexpected too, and again she eyed him warily as he helped himself to another bread roll. Dipping in to the honey, he transferred some to his plate, then twirled the sticky golden mess round and round the blade of his knife, and he seemed to be thinking deeply about something, so that his next words took her rather by surprise.

  'Your bread rolls are excellent, Bethany. You must have a natural aptitude, since you don't normally help

  with the baking; and you have no reason at all to suggest you're not very good.'

  It was annoying to realise she was blushing at the compliment and Bethany wished she did not feel quite so pleased about it. 'Aunt Alex is a good teacher,' she told him. *But it's more luck than skill that they've turned out well.'

  He watched her while he ate, and she found the steady scrutiny of those heavy-lashed eyes very discomfiting, wishing she had found some excuse for not joining him, however pressing the invitation. *Do compliments embarrass you?' he asked, so quietly and matter-of-factly, and Bethany squirmed uncomfortably on her chair. If only Takis or Aunt Alex would come out and join them, for she found this dark, quietly confi
dent man a very disturbing breakfast companion.

  Trying to appear offhand, she lightly raised one shoulder and shook her head. I'm not used to strangers paying me compliments,' she confessed with disarming frankness, and he appeared not to resent being classed as a stranger, only smiled faintly to himself.

  'Perhaps because you've met so few,' he suggested. He continued with his meal and seemed not to notice that Bethany was getting rather less enjoyment from hers. 'There are certain matters I shall want to discuss as soon as I've been through Pavlos's things more thoroughly,' he went on. 'Takis is rather too young to be included, but you're eighteen and old enough to make an intelligent contribution to the conversation, I'm sure.'

  Yet again he had caught her unprepared, and she hesitated, taking a fortifying sip from her coffee before she replied. 'I'm sure I could,' she agreed eventually, 'but I hardly expected to be given the opportunity in this instance. What reason do you have, Nikolas?'

  'Meaning?'

  The demand was abrupt and as sharp as the gleam in his eyes when he looked across at her. 'Well, I would have thought I was the last person you'd think of sitting down to a discussion with, when you '

  «4 APOLLO'S DAUGHTER

  She bit back the words hastily, but it was too late, he must have followed her meaning easily and his mouth had that tight and slightly ominous look she had noticed just after he arrived. 'I had the impression that you find me rather too conservative for your taste,' he told her, *but apparently you're not prepared to accept an effort on my part to remedy the impression. Instead you question my motives!'

  It was a tricky situation and one Bethany was new to, she wasn't sure just how to handle it at the moment. Licking traces of honey from her lips, she shook her head slowly in automatic denial, seeing any advantage she might have had slipping away from her. 'I wasn't exactly questioning your motives,' she claimed huskily. 1 only meant that it isn't like you to ask the opinion of any woman '