by Anne Hampson
'She wanted Dendras to inherit everything?'
'Naturally. Throughout history this kind of thing has happened when a man has sons by different wives. The second wife invariably feels her son is being cheated.' Cold and unemotional was his voice. He stopped walking and Kim saw his eyes stray to Alexandra's window. He too was aware that they were being watched. 'You can now understand why I want her to believe the child is mine.'
'Spite?' The one brief word did nothing more than bring a sneer to his sensual mouth.
'Call it what you like. I shan't give her the satisfaction of knowing her grandchild will inherit all this.'
'But you, Vidas—surely you could have had an heir long ago? I mean, you could have married before now.'
'I could have done,' he agreed, 'but the inclination was not strong enough.'
'It seems strange that a man in your position did not want to produce his own heir—' She stopped abruptly, another rush of colour rising in her cheeks as she realised just how crudely she had phrased her words. Vidas's eyes seemed to be riveted on her, an odd expression in their depths.
'You sound genuinely concerned about my not having an heir,' he commented, and it seemed to Kim that his voice was tinged with asperity. He was puzzled by her manner, by the apparent sincerity of her concern. The dark eyes narrowed, examining her face intently in the silence. 'What kind of a woman are you?' he demanded. 'I once said I had the impression that you were laughing at me, and if so, it means you have a secret, that you know something which I do not.' Anger was in his tone now as well as impatience and the hint of a threat. 'I am beginning to think you are a deep one, my girl!' And without giving her the chance of speaking, he turned and strode away towards one of the rear entrances to the castle.
Kim stared after his swiftly retreating figure, her pulses racing as fear crept through her whole being. If ever he should discover the truth—that she had never slept with his brother, or with any other man for that matter! It did not bear thinking about and she determinedly refused to dwell upon it. Other thoughts, equally disturbing, filled her mind. This new emotion, this yearning… for what? It was useless to deny that her husband's attractions drew her physically, and she wondered if her desire was born merely of the newly awakened needs of the flesh, or if, as had already occurred to her, she was falling in love. What folly that would be! Disastrous! Because Vidas would never in a thousand years return that love. She must not let her mind dwell on it, because if she did she was lost. But already she knew she was lost…
Dinner that evening was vastly different from usual, because Alexandra had decided to dine alone in her boudoir.
The sky had darkened soon after Kim had come in from the garden, presaging a storm, yet even though it broke, raging throughout the meal, the atmosphere within the room itself was clearer, brighter than usual, owing to the absence of Mrs. Christou. Having forgotten the little spurt of anger he had exhibited earlier, Vidas conversed more affably with his wife than ever before. If it had not been for her nagging worry over the confession she must soon make, Kim could have been profoundly happy sitting there, alone with her husband, dining by candlelight in the gracious salon that was part of the ancient banqueting hall of the castle.
It was when they were in the lounge, which was also part of the banqueting hall, drinking coffee and cognac, that Kim decided to get the whole thing over and done with. Yet her heart began to throb as soon as the resolve was made; her tongue became dry so that, when eventually she did manage to speak, her voice sounded strained and harsh even to her own ears.
'Vidas, I'm—I'm afraid I have—have a disappointment for you…' She swallowed thickly, nerves jagged but resolution still strong, for it was impossible to endure this tension any longer; it had oppressed her since the moment Vidas had mentioned the doctor. 'It—it was all a mistake, Vidas—a—a false alarm.'
Silence followed, oppressive and intense. Kim wondered if she looked as white as she felt.
'What,' enquired her husband in a smooth urbane voice, 'was a false alarm?' The direct, unnerving stare was as cold as tempered steel. 'Well?' he murmured gently when she did not speak.
'I'm n-not having a—a baby after all.' There, it was out and she must accept the consequences. He would not murder her—or would he? Involuntarily a hand crept to her throat, as if she would protect it from any possible attack.
'When did you make this discovery?'
'Only today—th-this evening just before dinner.' The hand left her throat to move to her breast, beneath which her heart pounded in the most alarming way. 'I'm sorry for all the trouble, Vidas. It was silly of me to make a mistake like that.'
'But most convenient,' he commented, his face a dark, unreadable mask.
'I d-don't know what you mean, Vidas.' With trembling fingers Kim reached for her glass and put it to her lips, having to use all her control not to drink the fiery liquid in one swift gulp, because she felt she needed it.
'The mistake, as you term it, enabled you to provide for your parents' removal to Spain.'
Fear darkened her eyes. 'You don't think—I mean-surely you accept my word—that it was a genuine mistake on my part?'
'I have already said there's something about you that I can't fathom.'
'You must believe me!' she cried, heart pounding against her ribs. 'It's—it's the truth and so you must believe me!'
'And if I choose not to believe you?' His piercing gaze was inescapable; Kim felt like a helpless creature about to be attacked by a ruthless predator.
'Please believe me,' she begged, tears filling her eyes. 'Vidas… you're frightening m-me.' Although acutely aware that the manner she was adopting was in total variance with what she was supposed to be—worldly and confident, the experienced gold digger he had branded her, and a woman of loose morals as well— Kim could not control the plea in her voice, the visible trembling of her body, the tears falling on her cheeks. 'Mistakes like this are made all the time,' she went on desperately. 'You—you act as if—as if my case is unique.'
Vidas reached for his coffee cup, his narrowed eyes fixing hers from above the rim. 'Perhaps your particular case is unique,' was his soft and subtle rejoinder.
'I still d-don't know what you m-mean.' The glass in her hand was shaking and she put it down on the table with a little bang.
'Can you explain what made you so sure you were expecting my brother's child?' Vidas's voice cut a silence that had stretched Kim's nerves almost to the breaking point. In the sheer undiluted panic that winged through her, she felt she must either make a full confession or run from him, into the chill and patchy blackness of the rain-swept gardens, where she could lose herself in the enfolding safety until all danger had passed. It was a fanciful idea, untenable, and she drew a swift breath of relief when her husband's voice put an end to it.
'I took it for granted,' she managed, wishing her heart would not pound so agonisingly against her rib cage, that her pulse was not so erratic.
'You took it for granted, without seeing a doctor?' The lean dark face retained its inscrutable expression and the glacial, perfectly controlled voice was equally uncommunicative. 'Purely on that assumption you were pressing Dendras to marry you?'
'I did not press him,' she began indignantly.
'But you did. You were determined to marry him. Also, on the same assumption, you asked me for money.'
Kim licked her lips. 'I—I genuinely believed I was—was…' She could not go on. It was too much for her nervous system to endure. The truth was her only salvation… but what then? Surely Vidas would do her a physical injury on learning just how cleverly he had been duped.
'Perhaps you did genuinely believe you were pregnant,' came her husband's staggering concession at last. Kim stared, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts.
'You do believe me, then?'
'You make it all sound very convincing.' Was there a cynical ring to his voice, she wondered, or had she imagined it?
'It was a natural conclusion, Vidas,' she s
aid quietly but could not meet his eyes.
'Because you had slept with Dendras?'
'Of—of course,' Little beads of perspiration caused tendrils of hair to cling to her forehead. Kim brushed an unsteady hand across it, her eyes now fixed on those of her husband, not through her own willingness but through his. She felt the magnetism he was exerting over her, the supreme power that sapped what little strength she had left. However, he seemed, after a prolonged moment of thought, to adopt an attitude of resignation. He must have realised, decided Kim, that what was done was done, and there was nothing he could do to alter it.
'So there's to be no heir after all?'
'No—I am sorry.'
The dark Greek eyes flickered strangely. 'I wonder,' he said slowly. 'I wonder if you really are sorry.'
'I meant for the trouble I've caused.' He said nothing and after a moment she ventured the suggestion that he would be wanting an annulment. She was fast regaining her composure, scarcely able to credit her good fortune in escaping her husband's wrath.
'An annulment?' he repeated, eyebrows lifting a fraction. 'There'll be no annulment. We're married and that's the way it stays, at least for a time.'
'You still want me to remain here?'
'I not only want you to stay but I intend you to.'
'But—'
'What gave you the idea that I would want to end our marriage?' he broke in tersely.
'I took it for granted that, under the circumstances, you would want your freedom.'
'I am quite satisfied with things as they are.'
She said, watching him closely, 'Your stepmother should have left here on your marriage. You haven't yet told her to go.'
'Yes, I have. The arrangement provided by my father's will was that she be given a reasonable time to establish a home for herself. She'll be leaving within the next month or so.'
'I see.' Would Vidas then reconsider and want an annulment? 'Dendras told me all about the will. I guessed that you married me in order to make her leave your home.' Her voice was quite steady now, a result of her somewhat settled nerves, and she found herself able to speak more freely than usual. 'The marriage, Vidas, helped us both, didn't it?'
'As you say, it helped us both.'
'So, in spite of everything, I have been of some little use to you, haven't I?'
'Marriage to you has served a purpose, yes.' Vidas was holding his glass up to the light, watching the oily effect of the brandy on its gleaming sides. He seemed thoughtful, and when presently he spoke, it was to reveal what he had been turning over in his mind. 'As I have mentioned, marriage has never appealed to me; I can manage very well without the cloying female sentimentality and all it entails. So-called love has certainly never affected me,' he went on, and now Kim detected a sneering, cynical edge to his voice. His expression, too, was sardonic, and the vestige of a contemptuous smile played about his mouth. That he was ridiculing the romanticism of women was all too plain.
'From what I have seen, love is a transient emotion in any case, leaving nothing behind but acrimony and bitterness. No man with an atom of sanity would fall, open-eyed, into a net like that.' He paused to listen to the lash of rain on the windows. 'However, in spite of my distaste for marriage, I realised that if ever I were to rid myself of my stepmother I must either marry or wait until she died. She and I had been passing through a particularly unpleasant period when, by a quirk of fate, you and I met.'
'It proved to be opportune for you,' Kim could not help saying.
'It certainly was to my advantage,' he agreed. His eyes slid over her in a frowning glance. 'I had to give the matter a good deal of thought,' he went on reflectively. 'Greek men do not take kindly to females who give themselves away before marriage.'
'Yet, conversely, you have pillow-friends.' Kim's voice was tart, her composure almost normal.
To her surprise Vidas laughed. 'It might appear illogical to you, Kim, but it is just a way of life we have, which happens to differ from that of the West. Yes, we do have pillow-friends, yet we insist on a record of total chastity in the women we marry.' Kim shot him a glance, to which he promptly responded, his eyes filled with mocking amusement. 'I am speaking, of course, of a normal marriage.'
'Of course,' she said with a dry inflection. She could not help but be amused, although her amusement stemmed from a very different circumstance than her husband's. She wondered what he would say were she to tell him that she was, in fact, an eligible wife for a Greek, being possessed of total chastity as he had put it. However, she was now becoming used to the role of 'fallen woman,' as no doubt he described her to himself, for she had known from the first that she must become resigned. 'It seems to me that the women of your country have a raw deal whether they are chaste or not.'
'Oh, why?'
'They're subjugated.'
'No such thing. Women like to be mastered.'
'There's a difference between mastery and subjugation.'
'A narrow margin. However, it's of no importance either to you or me, since our marriage is a sham and always will be.'
A sham and always will be… How long could she go on living a life like that, her love growing stronger all the time? A shuddering sigh escaped her and she said tentatively, 'How long do you want us to stay married?'
'I have no idea yet. My stepmother could ask to come back if she became aware that the marriage had ended.'
'But would she—once she had left?'
'She might. It's a risk which I have no need to take. I want your promise that you will stay here until I decide otherwise.'
'If I refuse, you would, I suppose, get in touch with my mother?' She had no intention of refusing but she was interested in his reaction.
'Are you intimating that I would blackmail you?' he countered, his eyes hard as steel.
'No—er…'
'Be very careful in your attitude, Kim,' he warned softly. 'You haven't yet come in contact with my temper.'
'I didn't mean…' Again she stopped. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured after a pause. 'I give the promise, and shall keep it.'
Chapter Five
Another fortnight passed, with Kim taking over the running of the castle. It was a task which had scared her at first, until it became evident that Litsa, the housekeeper, whose activities had been curtailed by Alexandra, was only too eager to do the work for which she was paid, and so Kim found herself falling into the pleasant routine of merely discussing meals, seeing that supplies were ordered, and generally supervising whenever necessary. And as her confidence increased she began moving furniture around, including some of the priceless antiques. From the first she had been enchanted with a small, drably furnished room with a view of the immense expanse of sea—mauve and aquamarine with frothy whiteness curling indolently towards the shore. From another window she could see the other castle of which Dendras had spoken, owned by the Greek who had married the Irish girl. Kim thought she would like to meet this couple one day, but meanwhile, she began expending all her energies on making the small room into a cosy snug for her own private use. It was on the first floor, and also looked out over the beautiful grounds of the castle with their ever-changing moods and colours, affected as they were by light and shade, and by the clouds that often gathered and swirled in the sapphire vault of the heavens.
Kim had a happy time fixing up the snug, this in spite of the complaints of Alexandra, who, in no uncertain terms, told her that she ought not to be moving antique objects into this room, nor should she have removed two French armchairs from the blue and gold salon.
'The place will hardly be recognisable if you carry on like this much longer!' she exclaimed, but Kim merely ignored the complaints, more impatient with the woman's exaggeration than with her interference. When at length the snug was to her liking Kim invited her husband in to see it. He stood in the doorway, an unfathomable expression in his dark eyes. She smiled inwardly, knowing just how puzzled he was by her, and that his puzzlement was increasing all the time. By now he seemed to hav
e accepted without question that she was not the vulgar, cheap little schemer he had at first believed her to be, but beyond that, he could not make her out at all. According to his idealistic Greek requirements for a woman she was sadly lacking, having given herself to his brother, but apart from her morals she was in fact a 'nice girl.' This was the impression Kim had gained recently and she was sure it was a correct one.
'Do you like it?' she asked with a smile when he made no immediate comment.
'It's charming, Kim—really cosy and welcoming.'
'It's meant to be welcoming,' she ventured, and there was no mistaking the significance of her words. Vidas moved into the room and sat down on the sofa.
'Well, aren't you going to offer me a drink?' he asked.
'I haven't anything.'
'Then we must rectify that. There's a small but very charming cocktail cabinet in Alexandra's boudoir. I'll have it fetched out and put in here—'
'Oh, no, please don't do that, Vidas,' Kim begged. 'I can wait until she has left.'
'If we strip her room, she'll leave much more quickly. The trouble is she's far. too comfortable.'
'It's not nice to take things from her rooms.' The distress in her voice came through but had no effect, and the following day the cabinet was brought to the snug along with some bookshelves and a charming sofa table of the Georgian period. It had come from England, as had the cabinet. Then came a Chelsea-Derby group and a Sevres vase. Kim told Vidas at dinner that night that she did not want anything else for the snug.
'You don't like Alexandra any more than I do,' he said with a frown, 'so why this objection to making her so uncomfortable that she'll leave?'
Kim said nothing else, but she had succeeded in putting a stop to the removal of items from the older woman's boudoir.
Ten days later Alexandra moved out of the castle, having managed to rent a villa at Hatla, close to the capital of the island, but she told Kim she would not settle there.
'I prefer a larger island,' she had added. 'Malindos has always been too small for me.'