Borrowed plumes

by Elizabeth Ashton

  That had merely been a try-on to discover if she were ripe for surrender, and if she had been acquiescent he would have teased her about her change of heart. He had always insisted that he was no saint and had laughed when she had sought to endow him with more worthy attributes. She had thought she had discovered a kindlier, more human side to him, which for some obscure reason he concealed beneath his mask of pride and arrogance. At times they had seemed to be almost en rapport, and there must be some sort of physical affinity between them, as he could not embrace her if she were wholly repulsive to him, but that was not much comfort, for it could only be some kind of chemical reaction which prompted his amorous avances and won her response. To him Janet Reynolds had been a provocation and a challenge, and that night he had known that she was ready to be seduced if he had pressed her, it had been his final triumph.

  She should scorn him for his callous exploitation of her feelings, but she could not do so, for she had wanted him and she still did. Every nerve in her body ached with longing for his arms and his lips and that humiliated her. It had seemed impossible she could ever come to love such a man, but no other word could describe this yearning she felt towards him, and it was all the more painful because she had given her heart to an unworthy object.

  Yet was he so unworthy? In the business world he had no equal for drive and ability. He could be magnanimous, as was shown by his generosity to Stephanos, who reverenced him as a man as well as a benefactor. He had been generous also to herself after the initial conflict, though he had every reason to resent her. It was only with regard to women that his conduct was questionable, and upon that subject she was very ignorant with only her old-fashioned standards to guide her. Renata had often told her that her ideas culled from books were out of date in a permissive world. He was a superior person and she need not be ashamed of loving him, but she must keep her feelings concealed if she did not want to earn his mockery.

  Her present position was a far from happy one. She was to be foisted upon Mrs. Leandris, who could hardly be expected to welcome her, in support of a fiction concocted for her uncle's benefit, while Alex went off to greet Renata with the intention of asking her to be his wife. She would have to congratulate them and endure her cousin's smug complacency, for Renata would believe that her evasive tactics had brought about the desired result. Jan could only hope that her ordeal would be short and she could escape within a few days to England where she could lick her wounds in private, for here she must maintain a pretence of indifference, and nobody in Istanbul would give a damn for her feelings.

  The morning found her pale with dark-circled eyes, and after a little hesitation, she dressed in the blue and white outfit. She felt she could not face Mrs. Leandris in one of her shapeless cotton dresses. She would return it as soon as she had access to her travellers' cheques and could buy something becoming, for her luggage would have been brought from Kusadasi. Her sojourn with Alex had made her conscious of her sartorial shortcomings and she would have a better chance of securing good employment if she looked more prepossessing.

  It took all her resolution to go up on deck to meet Alex for breakfast instead of staying in her cabin. She hoped he would not allude to the previous night, and there was something she must impress upon him if she were to avoid Renata's ridicule, and since she was no actress it would not be easy to make herself convincing.

  Alex's good morning was perfunctory and his manner absent, as he perused some papers beside his plate. He was wearing a formal suit in pale grey, with blue tie and socks, and the unfamiliar garb changed his appearance. This was Alexandros Leandris, the business magnate, with his mind occupied with more important matters than personal affairs. The meal was consumed in silence. Jan had no appetite, though she drank several cups of coffee and played with some fruit. With her eyes on the distant domes and minarets she was wondering how to approach the subject that filled her mind.

  Alex suddenly looked up from his papers, fixed her with a penetrating glance, and said abruptly:

  'You had a bad night?'

  She started and flushed. 'The quay was a little noisy,' she offered as an excuse.

  'Indeed?' His mouth curved in a wicked smile. 'Had you allowed me to come with you, you would not have been conscious of outside distractions and when you did sleep it would have been the deep slumber of exhaustion.'

  Jan's colour deepened at this evocative statement. Alex was in one of his worst moods of provocative teasing, but he had given her the opportunity to put on her act.

  'You always treat matters of the heart with levity, don't you, Mr. Leandris? As for last night, you gave yourself a field day, trying to find out how far I'd progressed under your tutelage.'

  She tried to speak flippantly, and concealed the fact that her hands were trembling by clasping them in her lap.

  He frowned at her heavily.

  'What are you trying to say, Jan?'

  She shrugged her shoulders. 'I didn't take you seriously, of course. I never have. It was a chance to discover what this love business is all about.'

  Was she talking nonsense, or would he get her message?

  He smiled wryly.

  'You'd have learned more if you'd carried the ... er ... experiment to its logical conclusion.'

  She shook her head, essaying a brittle laugh.

  'Oh no, that was going a little too far. I draw the line at the bedroom, or in this case, the cabin door.' She drew a deep breath and went on, preserving with difficulty her tone of light raillery. 'We've had quite a lot of fun on this trip one way and another, haven't we, Alex? I must thank you for being so amusing. But that's all it's been, a bit of fun.'

  He stared at her for so long that Jan found it difficult to maintain her airy pose. Then he said:

  'I didn't think you were the kind of girl who appreciated amorous play.'

  'Ah, but as you've said, I didn't know my own potential. I've changed a bit since I came aboard your yacht. I don't think I'll make a habit of flirtation, it might become boring with repetition.'

  'You're talking a load of rubbish,' he said shortly.

  'Am I? It's you who've taught me to appreciate ... rubbish. And that's all it was last night.' She quoted solemnly, 'Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.'

  'I fail to see what all this is in aid of.'

  'Oh, I thought you might be afraid you'd broken my heart. But my heart wasn't involved. That's what I'm trying to say.'

  The tawny eyes met the blue ones and Jan tried to smile archly. His expression was inscrutable.

  'I understand,' he told her, and returned to his papers.

  Jan realised that she need not have been afraid that he would mention her to Renata. He had already dismissed her from his mind; she was not important enough even to be a joke. Self-preservation required that she should convince him that her indifference equalled his, and apparently she had succeeded, but she felt no satisfaction, only an infinite regret. He glanced at his watch and collected his correspondence.

  'If I'm not to be late at the airport, we must be going. I'll drop you at my mother's first. Ariadne has provided you with a suitcase. It will look more respectable to arrive with some luggage.'

  There was a gibe in his voice and Jan felt a moment's panic. What was his mother going to make of her unconventional escapade? The suitcase would accommodate Renata's cloak and her dress, she had nothing else to pack. That reminded her of what she was wearing.^

  'I ... I'll return what I've got on to you when I've bought something else,' she said hesitantly. 'But I thought you'd like me to look my best to meet your mother. The dress I came aboard in was a bit tacky.'

  'Hardly your best when you're bog-eyed with frustration,' he said brutally. 'Oh, keep that garment, you've earned it'

  'Thank you for it and your consideration,' she returned with a touch of sarcasm. 'But you're going to have a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Leandris.'

  He shrugged his shoulders. 'Never explain and never apologise,' he told her, 'it saves
a lot of trouble. I notice we're on formal terms again... Miss Reynolds.'

  'Your mother won't expect us to be ... intimate.'

  'What, after spending three days in my sole company?' His eyes glinted. 'My mother knows me better than that. Ah, here is Ariadne with the case, and we'd better hurry.'

  The Greek woman approached them across the deck, carrying a small case which she handed to Alex, saying something to him in her own language. He nodded, taking it from her, and turned to Jan. 'Are you ready, or do you want to powder your nose?'

  He looked at her nose as if he considered it needed some attention, but Jan shook her head.

  'I'm quite ready, Mr. Leandris,' she said tonelessly.

  As they walked along the quay, Jan turned to look back at the Artemis. She was preparing to leave her berth to seek her permanent mooring. Her superstructure was white against the blue sky, the Greek flag hung limp from her stern in the windless air. For Jan she had been the locale of the most harrowing scenes in her short life, and some moments of pure bliss, but she would never board her again.

  Lydia Leandris was not at all what Jan had expected. She had anticipated a tall, stately personage with Alex's colouring, instead of which she was confronted by a small, fair woman with the remnants of a pink and white prettiness, and her eyes were as blue as Jan's.

  Her house was charming, a white villa on the shores of the Bosphorus, with a wide terrace in front of it looking over the water, furnished with garden chairs and marble urns of potted plants. It was rather noisy, as not only did the coast road run by it, it was on a slight eminence, but the seaway was thronged with ships which always seemed to be blaring sirens for some reason or other.

  Visible from it was the Europe to Asia bridge, which was Turkey's pride; tall enough to permit liners to pass beneath it, it was the much-needed link between two continents.

  They were expected, as Alex had phoned his mother, and a little Turkish maid ushered them into a dim cool room scattered with oriental knick-knacks, Venetian blinds drawn to exclude the sun.

  It was obvious Lydia adored her son. She ran to meet him as he came into the room, her face alight, and threw herself into his arms.

  'Well, wanderer, am I to have the pleasure of your company for a while?' she demanded, after they had kissed, 'and...' catching sight of Jan, 'is this the girl?'

  Her eyes ran over Jan's slight form with a puzzled frown. She was not at all her son's usual type.

  'Yes, I'm staying for a while,' Alex replied, 'and Miss Reynolds is your new secretary.'

  'But I told you I didn't need a secretary. Maria gives me what help I need with my small correspondence.' She looked at Alex severely. 'What have you been up to, you bad boy?'

  'Oh, Jan'll explain,' he said carelessly. 'I can't stop now, I've some friends to meet, but I'll be in for dinner. Meanwhile please make J ... Miss Reynolds ... welcome. She's had a rough time.'

  Jan stepped hastily between him and the door, feeling he was deserting her.

  'I think you should wait to inform Mrs. Leandris ...'

  'I haven't time, and you'll do it much better than I should,' he returned blandly, brushing her aside. He turned back to say: 'Tell her everything.'

  The door closed upon his exit, he had, as he had told her, evaded explanation or apology. If she was to tell the whole story, she would not spare him, and if it did not reflect well upon him, that was his fault, he should have stayed to give his version.

  'Sit down,' Lydia Leandris said gently. 'I'll tell the maid to bring some coffee. Then you can tell me what that wicked lad of mine has been doing.'

  Evidently she did know her son very well.

  Left alone, Jan glanced round the gracious room, with its light furnishings and marble floor covered with Chinese rugs. The colour scheme was blue and cream, the settee upon which she had seated herself being of carved white-painted wood with a blue-upholstered seat. There were crystal vases of roses here and there. The whole effect was bright and airy. So this was Alex's home, when he was at home, which apparently was not often. Would he expect Renata to live with his mother? She did not think her cousin would agree to that.

  Lydia returned with the maid carrying the coffee tray which she placed on a low table. She seated herself in a chair opposite to Jan. She wore a well-cut linen jacket and skirt, and had the air of a conventional British matron, but her years in a foreign country had broadened her mind. While the coffee percolated, Jan told her story, omitting only the incident upon the night of her arrival on the Artemis and trying to gloss over Alex's original intentions towards Renata.

  'My cousin is very romantic,' she said untruthfully. 'They had planned an ... elopement, but at the last moment Rena got cold feet.' And she hoped she sounded convincing.

  'She was rather foolish to trust Alex so implicitly,' Lydia remarked. 'My son is no better nor worse than the average man, nor has he much use for romance.' She started to pour out the coffee. 'Milk and sugar, Miss... er...?'

  'Yes, please, and do call me Jan, you see Rena is also Miss Reynolds and it can become confusing.' Jan rose to take her cup.

  'Very well, Jan. So you think Alex intends to marry this cousin of yours?'

  'Haven't I made that plain?' Jan seated herself again.

  'You've tried too,' Lydia's wry smile was reminiscent of her son. 'Many girls have hoped to capture him, but he's played about long enough. It's time he settled down.' She stirred her coffee meditatively in its delicate china cup. 'A wife and family would steady him, and at his age, over thirty, he should be getting himself an heir. So far none of the girls who've attracted him were able to hold him long enough to get engaged, and of course, in this country, men expect a dowry.'

  'Is that obligatory?' Jan asked anxiously, for she knew her uncle had little to spare to dower his daughter. He would consider her beauty sufficient recompense for any man.

  'No, but it's customary.'

  'Well, I think it's an absurd custom,' Jan told her in her downright fashion. 'Alex ... I mean Mr. Leandris has more than enough for a dozen wives. I'm sure he won't expect one.'

  Lydia raised her arched brows, she had noticed Jan's slip.

  'You're intimate with him?'

  'Not really, I ... we ... well, formality does seem a little out of place on a small ship,' Jan told her frankly.

  Lydia smiled. 'Of course,' she agreed non-committaly. 'I'll admit I'm English enough to believe it's more important for a couple to be in love than to haggle over settlements. This cousin of yours, you say she's beautiful?'

  'Oh very, she has most striking colouring.'

  'But like most beautiful women, she's spoilt and selfish?'

  'Not at all, though being much admired she has been a little indulged.' Jan was trying to be fair.

  'Family loyalty,' Lydia suggested. 'She seems to be a bit capricious to act as she did. Does she love my son?'

  Jan hesitated; the state of Renata's feelings towards Alex were not easy to define. 'He fascinates her,' she said at length, adding with more vigour: 'Of course she must love him, and if he wants her, he's got her. The little setback will have made them both keener.'

  'Perhaps, but she doesn't sound to me the right wife for Alex. Men are such fools when it comes to choosing a mate.' Mrs. Leandris' tone became dry. 'They go for looks and don't study character. The looks fade and they're stuck with the character.' She looked at Jan shrewdly. 'A nice steady girl like you appear to be would suit him much better.'

  Jan blushed and lowered her eyes, but she retorted quickly :

  'Girls like me, plain girls, have no appeal for men like Mr. Leandris.'

  'More's the pity.' She had guessed Jan's secret. 'Are you telling me you were alone for three days with Alex and he didn't make a pass at you?' she queried.

  Jan's blush deepened and she became absorbed in the dregs in her coffee cup.

  'Well, didn't he?' Lydia Leandris persisted.

  'You evidently know your son very well,' Jan returned. 'If you must have it... he did, but I kn
ow he didn't mean anything, he was just bored with nothing to do. Of course I didn't reciprocate.' Not entirely, she assured herself, she had put up some resistance and had escaped the logical conclusion.

  'No?' Lydia looked unbelieving. 'You must be very strong-minded.'

  'Well, I'm not permissive,' Jan retorted with energy, 'and—well, look at me! For a man who has his pick of lovelies, I wasn't likely to be a very great temptation.'

  Lydia did, seeing and liking much about her visitor that would have surprised Jan. The girl was loyal, candid and seemingly truthful. Properly dressed and groomed she might even be beautiful. She had good bones and attractive colouring, but she would never appear superficially pretty, she was not that type.

  'Alex is astute enough to look below the surface,' she said kindly. 'Beauty we know is only skin deep. You're quite charming, my child.'

  Jan winced. Must she always be taken to be younger than her years?

  'I wasn't charming to him,' she admitted. 'I called him some awful names. I ... I don't like masterful men.'

  She still was not sure she liked Alex, but she loved him, which was something quite different. Lydia's critical regard was disconcerting her. Alex's mother was no fool and would naturally assume she had fallen for her son. But she had no intention of confiding in her, let her surmise what she pleased, but once she had met Renata she would understand Jan could not hold a candle to her.

  At her mention of masterful men, Lydia laughed gaily, and her eyes went to a framed photograph standing on a side table of a handsome man with a look of Alex.

  'You're a lot cleverer than you realise,' she said. 'Men can be surfeited with sugar. As for masterful men,' she indicated the photograph, 'my husband was a bit of a tyrant. A mingling of Greek and Turk so despotism was born in him, but I soon learned to manage him. It can be done, if you love.' Her blue eyes became very soft. 'I've never ceased to mourn for him.'

  'You've got your son,' Jan said consolingly.

  'Until another woman annexes him, and I'm hoping for a daughter-in-law who won't shut me out. I'm sure you never would, but this Renata ...' Lydia Leandris shook her head.