

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten

STRANGERS MAY MARRY
Laura had practically raised little Mandy, but she had no legal claim to the homeless child. And now the authorities wanted to take Mandy away.
Paul Penalis could help her to keep Mandy, but his price was marriage. Was the price too high for Laura to pay, or could she find true happiness in a marriage of strangers?
Other Silhouette Romances by Anne Hampson
Stardust
Desire
Another Eden
Sweet Second Love
The Tender Years
When Love Comes
Dreamtime
A Kiss and a Promise
Man Without Honour
Devotion
Spell of the Island
Fascination
Realm of the Pagans
First published in Great Britain 1983 by Hodder & Stoughton Limited
First hardback edition 1985 by Chivers Press
Published by arrangement with Hodder & Stoughton Limited
ISBN 0 85997 782 X
Copyright © 1982 by Filestone Limited and Silhouette Books,
a Simon & Schuster Division of Gulf & Western Corporation
Map by Tony Ferrara
Laura Hudson's sapphire-blue eyes were wide and pleading as they stared into the implacable face of the man who wanted to marry her.
'How can I put her in a home, Phil? I've had her since Mother died and to send her away now would be little short of cruelty.'
'Laura, darling, you can't expect me to be a father to a child who isn't mine.'
'But you've always seemed to love her,' she protested, the desperate plea in her voice reflected in her eyes.
'I like her, certainly, but love... ?' Phil shook his head. 'Love can't be given as easily as that, dear.'
She turned away, a sigh on her lips, her mind vaguely aware of the peace of South Berkeley Mews being broken by the arrival of a car with a faulty silencer. On all else, though, her mind was anything but vague. On the contrary, it was so clear that she found herself actually living through that momentous time again. She was opening the front door to take in the milk, then she was standing there transfixed, unable to accept that someone had left a baby on her mother's doorstep. She stooped, gently drawing the paper away from the fluffy pink blanket covering the sleeping child.
'As long as you have taken the father you might as well have his child.'
The note was fluttering in Laura's hand as she listened to her mother asking if anything was the matter. 'You're taking a long time, love,' added the voice from the kitchen.
'Someone made us a gift.' Stupid to make a joke about it but Laura felt faintly hysterical. This kind of thing happened to other people, but never to you. Never to anyone you were acquainted with, even.
'Darling, what is the matter? A gift, you say? So the postman's already been...' The voice trailed to silence as Mrs. Hudson, having come down the narrow lobby to the front door, stood gaping into the carricot which Laura now held in her hands. 'A---a baby.'
'It says on this little tag that her name's Mandy and she's two weeks old. It gives the date of her birth.' The baby was still sleeping peacefully, thumb in mouth, a mouth that even at this early age seemed to be made for laughter. Laura noted the long dark lashes, the pink cheeks, the overall cleanliness of child and clothes and cot.
'We'd better come inside,' suggested Mrs. Hudson practically. 'Before the neighbours see anything.'
'Read this note, Mother.' Laura handed it to her after placing the cot on the well-scrubbed kitchen table.
'There's a note?' Mrs. Hudson took it from her daughter, and as she watched Laura saw her eyes narrow with perception, saw the colour leave her face, saw her thrust a hand into her greying hair as she drew a long sigh that came from the very heart of her. 'Irene,' she murmured briefly, lowering the paper to stare at her daughter over it.
'We knew that Irene ran off with a married man, but we didn't think that a child was coming, did we?'
'He not only left his wife but he left her pregnant. This little mite must have been well on the way when that fiend enticed your sister to run off with him to Greece!'
'Laura, dear, you're miles away.' The quiet voice of the man who had proposed marriage brought Laura from her reverie and she swung round to see him still sitting there on the green velvet couch, a glass of brandy in his hand. He patted the cushion by his side and asked her to sit down. She shook her head and stayed where she was.
'I was remembering how it all happened.' She looked at him in silence for a moment, wondering if he would be interested, seeing that he had heard it all before. But she wanted to talk, and she supposed the reason was that she cherished the hope that he would soften in his resolve not to accept Mandy into the home which he hoped to make with Laura. She saw him smile, took it for an invitation and began to speak. 'Mother felt so terribly guilty---you know what her generation's like; they take the blame for what their children do.'
'Mine's the same, although we've never had anything like that happen in the family. Very respectable, we are.' There was nothing smug about Phil's declaration, on the contrary, he seemed almost to be adding a hint of deprecation as he continued, 'Very fortunate not to have a skeleton in one's cupboard.'
'Irene was always flighty but we never expected her to come home and say she was going off to Greece with a married man. Mother was heartbroken and said it was a blessing that Father could never know what was happening. It wasn't like Mother to say a thing like that; she adored Father and even then she had not really got over his death.'
'Why did they go to Greece? I seem to remember your telling me but I've forgotten.'
'The man had found himself a job there. He'd lived in Greece when he was young and obviously liked it enough to want to return. I suppose it was a good opportunity to lose himself so as not to have to pay his wife money.'
'And she was left with this baby.' Phil shook his head and it was clear that, to him, desertion of that kind was an unforgivable sin. 'He must have known of her condition.'
'Of course. It was only a short time after he and my sister had run off that Mandy was dumped on our doorstep.'
'What a shock it must have been.'
'It was a greater shock when Mother insisted on keeping her,' returned Laura with grim recollection. 'Just think, Mother, a widow, living on her own, deciding she must take the child and bring her up. I think I told you that inside the cot was another short note to the effect that the mother of Mandy was intending to commit suicide.'
Phil nodded his head. 'But you never found out whether she did or not?' Laura merely shook her head and Phil went on, 'You were already living away from home, weren't you? And you'd just gone home for the weekend?'
'Yes. I'd been offered this post and both Mother and I agreed that I ought to take it, not only for my own sake but also because it made it possible for me to make Mother's life more comfortable. I could substantially supplement her pension.' Again Laura turned away, remembering her own uncertainty at the time the post was offered. Her mother was a widow; her elder daughter was at home at the time but little or no company for her mother because she was out every night and in addition would often go away for the weekend. However, the financial aspect became the most important one in the end and Laura was persuaded by her mother to accept the post which necessitated her living in London. It was not that Mrs. Hudson was thinking of herself where the money was concerned--- on the contrary, she at first refused to accept money from Laura. Mrs. Hudson was thinking entirely of Laura's own personal gain and prestige, and it was only after the coming of Mandy that she had accepted any appreciable allowance from her daughter. For by then Irene had gone and Mrs. Hudson was living on her pension, plus a small income from her late husband's firm.
'I still cannot think what made your mother take on the responsibility of bringing up a child at her age. She ought to have looked to the future and visualised a situation such has arisen now.'
'One doesn't, Phil, when swayed by emotion. You do not seem to understand: Mother was accepting the responsibility because of a guilt complex. Her daughter had taken away the child's father, which caused its mother to take this step. She must have been desperate, for no mother parts with her child as easily as that. Mandy had been well cared for, but obviously the burden was too much for the mother. Added to that was bound to be a deep and abiding bitterness, and it was probably this which forced the woman to act as she did.' Laura turned now and picked up the martini which she had previously poured for herself.
'It was strange, but neither Mother nor I had thought much about the wife who had been deserted; she was nebulous. We were sorry for her in a vague kind of way but that was all. When we saw that baby all was changed. The whole detestable business was brought into sharp focus because we could now see the wife as a real person, pregnant by a man who had tired of her, who cared nothing for her situation, or for the child that was soon to come into the world. I know this sort of thing happens all the time, but when it strikes you personally it takes on a deeper significance. Phil, I often detest the times in which we live!' Laura drank deeply---so unlike her---but in fact she felt she needed something stronger than the martini and she glanced at Phil's glass which was now almost empty.
'I can understand how you feel, Laura, but also you must try to understand me. I can't possibly accept a ready-made family---'
'One little girl, Phil, that is all!' Desperation caused Laura's voice to take on a high-pitched note. She was madly in love with Phil and nothing had thrilled her more than that moment---was it only five minutes ago?---when he had taken her in his arms and asked her to marry him. Her joy was indescribable... but then had come the question, spoken softly against her cheek.
'What will you do with Mandy, darling? I suppose the only thing will be for you to get in touch with the authorities, won't it?' And Phil had gone on to add that if she wanted him to help in any way, then she must not hesitate to ask him.
'I know it's only one little girl,' she heard him saying as she walked across the room towards the cocktail cabinet. 'But surely you don't want us to begin like that---with a child to harass us. I want you to myself for at least a year, love.' She said nothing, and after a small pause he added, 'You were foolish to take her, Laura. When your mother died two years ago you should have let Mandy go. She was only two and a half at the time and would soon have forgotten your mother and fallen into the routine of whatever life was planned for her by the authorities. She would either have been fostered out or adopted, and by now she'd have been settled.'
'She is settled,' returned Laura chokingly. 'She loves me and I love her.'
'More than you love me?' enquired Phil gently, and their eyes met across the room, holding for eternal moments before Laura opened the cabinet and poured herself a drink. She stood there, moving the glass to hear the ice tinkle against the sides. Her heart was heavy as lead, her throat dry, her nerves upset. She had never expected to be faced with a situation like this, and yet, reviewing it now, she wondered why she had never looked to the time when she would meet someone who would want to marry her. David, the young man who had driven her home on that fateful night after Laura had received the phone call from a neighbour to say her mother was ill, had been no more than a friend. He just happened to have called on Laura that evening, and as she was so upset by the news of her mother's illness, he had insisted on driving her even though she knew she was quite capable of driving her own car. Mrs. Hudson had had a fatal heart attack and was in fact dead when Laura arrived home. Mandy was in bed asleep... Laura had not hesitated to take the child...
Her thoughts were broken by Phil's soft voice reminding her of the question he had just asked. She stared at him mistily from above the rim of her glass.
'I love you with all my heart,' she readily confessed. 'And I want to be your wife... but, Phil, how can I desert little Mandy?' Tears spiked her lashes but she would not let them fall. It wasn't fair to cry, to attempt to soften Phil by making him feel guilty.
'She'll get over it in no time at all.'
Laura shook her head. She knew Mandy, knew without any doubt at all that the wrench would leave a permanent scar on the child's mind. Laura shuddered at the very idea, at the picture she was conjuring up in her mind. Mandy taken away by some unfeeling employee of the authority. The tears and the pleadings--- God, it was impossible!
'I can't do it, Phil,' said Laura with a sigh that came from the depths of her heart. 'If you won't have Mandy then... then... I c-can't marry you.'
Silence, long and fraught with angry emotion. When at last Phil spoke Laura heard harshness in his voice for the very first time.
'Do you realise that if it hadn't been for the fact that you had a well-paid job and an understanding boss, you'd never have been in a position to take her, to bring her to this luxury home and pay someone to care for her while you're at work? Your boss'll let you off if Teresa happens not to be able to come in. But have you thought what would have happened if you hadn't had the means to keep Mandy?'
'The question doesn't arise, Phil. I did have the means to keep her, and I still have.'
'And us?'
'I've just said, if you won't take Mandy then---then I can't marry you.' Steady her gaze but her heart was breaking; her dreams were shattered.
'Laura, for goodness sake, see sense!' Rising, Phil came towards her, to stand there, staring into her pale face, his own dark with angry impatience. She looked at him, remembering their first meeting five months ago when he had taken over the management of the main suppliers to the firm of interior designers for which Laura worked as chief assistant to Douglas Hendrick, recently acclaimed as the most gifted home designer in Britain. From the very moment of their introduction, Laura and Phil were drawn towards one another, and to her delight he seemed enchanted with the little girl whom she had chosen to care for.
Until she met Phil, Laura had not even thought about marriage; her job was so satisfying, her life smoothly balanced between her home life in the tastefully converted stable, and her work, which involved travel and the meeting of all kinds of interesting people. She had felt sometimes that Mandy was missing something, both the company of other children, and a father. But whenever possible Laura would take her out, to the zoo or for a trip on the Thames, and twice a year they would go for a week at the seaside where, weather permitting, Laura would spend hours on the beach with Mandy, building sand castles or playing with a big, brightly coloured ball. For Laura it had been a happy life, one of supreme contentment.
But now... How unfair of fate to have put her in a position like this. She loved Mandy but she loved Phil more... She wanted desperately to be his wife, his lover...
'You do realise that the whole business was illegal from the start?' Phil's half-angry voice cut even yet again into her thoughts. 'When you found that baby your first act should have been to notify the police.'
'I'm fully aware of it.'
'But you don't care that you've broken the law---are still breaking it?'
'The human element's far more important to me than the cold necessities of legal requirements. I do not think I would be jailed if it all came to light.' There was an element of cool dignity about her now, a defence against the hard core of practicalities. 'It would have been inhuman to have Mandy taken away when Mother died. Mother gave her love in profusion; she gave her the feeling of security that is every child's birthright. How could I send her away? She knew me and loved me because I visited Mother almost every weekend. It was the only logical thing to do---for me to take her.' Laura put the glass to her lips and Phil moved away to the other side of the room. He was angry---no, that was mild. He was furious although able to control his temper, for which Laura greatly admired him. She asked softly, 'Phil, surely you yourself would feel a pang if I sent her away?'
'I admit it. However, I refuse to accept the responsibility for another man's child. Think of the expense for one thing. She's a highly intelligent child so will probably stay at school until she's seventeen or eighteen, then go on to university. Laura, you can't possibly expect me to foot bills for her when I shall have children of my own to provide for.'
'I can keep my job.' She wondered why she was still fighting when she knew that it was a battle already lost.
'Not when we start a family,' Phil said. 'No, it wouldn't work.'
'Because you don't want it to.'
'If you like---yes,' he almost snapped. 'I'm being very firm about this, Laura, and believe me it's for your own good.'
'For my own good?' Laura's voice was bitter.
Phil moved impatiently and then, as the idea suddenly came to him he said swiftly, 'Her place is with her father. Why don't you try to get in touch with him? After all, you've no right to keep Mandy from him, and if he should ever turn up he could take her anyway.' Eagerness in Phil's voice now. He believed he had solved the problem. As for Laura, she had been brought face to face with a possibility hitherto not even visualised---that of Mandy's father turning up and wanting to claim her. What then would be Laura's position? Without doubt she would be in trouble with the law. And in any case, there must soon come a day when it would be necessary to produce Mandy's birth certificate... which Laura did not have. She did not even know the child's surname, because Irene had not mentioned even the given name of the man she ran away with.
'I haven't any idea where her father is,' she said at last, a hint of fear in her voice and a pain in her heart. She couldn't even picture life without Mandy, and yet, as Phil had said, to keep her was to run the risk of trouble with her father, should he ever show up and want custody of his daughter.
'You have never once heard from your sister since she went off with this man?'
'Not a word. It almost broke my mother's heart because she loved us both equally in spite of Irene's character, and the life she led.'
'And you have no idea how to go about finding her?'
'There must be means, but she'll have taken this man's name.'
'What a mess!' Anger again in Phil's tone. He was fighting too, for his future, for what he wanted, which was Laura without the encumbrance of the child. 'Have you any idea at all which part of Greece they went to?'
Laura began to shake her head while at the same time endeavouring to recall anything said by Irene that would provide a clue. At last she murmured, 'I seem to recall her saying something about Crete---it's an island as you will know?'
'It's the one nearest to the north coast of Africa.' He paused as though mentally locating it on the map. 'You think they might have gone there?'
'I just don't know,' admitted Laura with a sigh. 'Greece is a relatively large country, and I believe there are around a hundred and thirty inhabited islands.'
'So unless you had something to go on, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack?'
'I feel it would be almost impossible to find someone whose name you don't know.'
'Not impossible. They're English, remember, and there is sure to be a register of foreigners resident in the country.'
Laura nodded, her eyes flickering. 'I have just thought of something...' Her voice trailed to silence as she realised just what she was contemplating. She was hoping to find Mandy's father so that she could pass Mandy over to him. She had had the child for two years and grown accustomed to having her about the house.
'You have?' eagerly and swiftly. 'What is it?'
'Irene had a friend who used to come to the house now and then. Her name's Vera Gresham and she works at the Herald office---or she used to.'
'The Herald . . . It's not too far from where your own office is. Why not take a trip around there in your lunch hour tomorrow and see if you can find anything out? Irene might just have confided in this friend.'
'That's what I thought.' Laura paused a moment after telling Phil that she could make the visit early tomorrow, as she was not forced to use her lunch hour. She was almost her own boss, never, from the beginning, having had any kind of supervision. She had no idea why she should be wanting to make him aware of this perk to her employment; she supposed she was in effect telling him that there were still some things he did not know about her. 'Irene might even have kept in touch with Vera.'
'That's possible. And if so, you should have no trouble in finding Mandy's father.'
'You're taking it for granted that Vera will provide me with my sister's address.'
'I am hoping she will, Laura.' She said nothing, merely draining her glass and placing it on a small table by the wall. And as Phil could see she had no intention of continuing the conversation, he changed the subject. 'Let's go out to dinner, love. You can phone Teresa and ask her to baby-sit.'
Laura shook her head. 'She only left a couple of hours ago. I wouldn't bring her out now. Besides, I'd rather stay in---on my own.'
'On your own?' with a lift of his brows. 'I came to have my evening meal with you, as usual.'
'Yes, I know, but I'd like to think this thing over.'
His eyes brightened and he said quietly, 'You're really serious about letting Mandy go. I can see a resolve about you that wasn't there a short while ago---'
'Please, Phil, I'd rather not talk about it any more tonight.' Deep unhappiness showed on her face, and a sigh that was almost a sob left her lips.
Phil moved towards her and said, 'I realise you don't want to pursue this matter just now, but let me say this: it would be nice for you to find your sister. You said you made some kind of an attempt when your mother died but soon gave it up as impossible. Well, now that you've remembered this Vera, you might have more success.' He stopped abruptly, and drew an impatient breath at her expression. 'Very well, I'll not mention it again until you do.' She said nothing and he hesitated a moment in indecision. 'Do you really want me to leave you?' he asked, and she nodded her head, the tears which had been so close beginning to fall on to her cheeks, large round tears that splashed eventually onto her blouse. Phil took her in his arms, dried her face and kissed her tenderly on the lips. 'My dearest, I'm not leaving you like this.'
But you have caused it, she said silently, her face lifted to his as she took in the softened expression, the one she knew so well. He was not exactly handsome, but rather rugged in a manly and attractive way. His complexion was fresh, healthy, his eyes light grey and his hair mid-brown, thick and wiry. He had a dimple in his chin and teeth that were white but rather uneven; they added attraction to his smile, she had always thought. How she loved him! To be married to him was her one abiding hope almost from the first week of knowing him, but now there was this problem. Yet basically he had a point, and also he was right in saying she could be in serious trouble if Mandy's father should ever turn up and demand to know why she had been taken in by Mrs. Hudson instead of being handed over to the local authority, which would have set machines in motion for finding both mother and father. It had been highly illegal from the start, as Phil had pointed out. Mandy was at play school at present, but six months hence she would be going to a proper school; her birth certificate would be required...
'Kiss me, darling.' But Phil gave her no time to comply as he bent his head to take her quivering lips. 'My lovely Laura. I want you---need you!' A sexual charge was in the air, but where only yesterday Laura would have eagerly responded to his lovemaking, she now drew away, a frown marring her face. He held her at arms' length, not surprised by her lack of response. He sighed and continued to take his fill of her beauty. The heart-shaped face with its skin the colour of enriched cream, except where it stretched tightly over the high cheekbones, where it bore that peach-bloom enhancement of perfect health. He looked into her eyes, sad at this moment, but he was remembering that when she smiled they shone like sapphires, pure blue, and bright. Her whole face became alive when she smiled... He frowned at her sadness and kissed her, on the lips and the cheek, holding her close to his breast and recalling the many happy times they'd had together. He felt again the pangs of jealousy when other men turned their heads to look at her with admiration---and it was hard even for women not to look twice at Laura. Her very presence seemed to stir the atmosphere immediately she entered a room.
He could understand how she came to land her most excellent post with Hendrick; her appearance must have carried her more than halfway. Added to that was her charm of manner, the courteous way in which she treated potential clients. Phil supposed that in the case of men they were swept off their feet before they had time to think properly. Yet despite this admiration she invariably carried an air of modesty which, for Phil, added enormously to her attractions. How could he lose her? he wondered as he watched her flick aside strands of the golden half fringe that curled on to her wide, intelligent forehead. It was an impatient gesture and one he had never noticed before. He felt the convulsive quivering of her slender body and knew what she was going through.
'I want you, darling, and soon.' His mouth was warm and moist against her throat. He was tempting her, hoping to draw her from the mood of near despair that she was in. At twenty-four, he thought, she should not be burdened like this. It should be the best and happiest time of her life. 'I must have you for my own---soon, very soon.'
She said on a little quivering note, 'Mandy wouldn't be any trouble, Phil, you know that.' Why oh why wouldn't he accept the child? Yet alongside the question there flowed that other problem, pointed out to her just now by Phil.
He held her from him, eyebrows raised a fraction. 'At times she's adorable, at times pensive and withdrawn. But, my darling, even you must own that there's a little devil somewhere in that child's makeup.'
'She's lively. I'd never attempt to break her spirit.' 'I believe that a father is necessary if she is to grow up as you, my love, would have her grow up.'
'Perhaps she does need a father. But is her own father right for her? You would be...' Laura's voice trailed to a despairing silence and she drew herself from his arms. A few moments later he was gathering up his coat and the briefcase he had brought with him from the office. He left the room quietly, his eyes and his lips unsmiling.
Mandy was shuffling about within the confines of her seat belt as the plane began its descent over the outskirts of Heraklion. The child was by the window and she looked down, then exclaimed excitedly, 'It's like looking at a lot of little dolls' houses, isn't it?'
'I told you, when we were climbing, that everything looks small when you are high in the air.'
'I know. I looked down when we were leaving London and I saw millions of dolls' houses!'
Laura laughed even though her heart was heavy. Whatever the outcome of this trip to Crete, she, Laura, was going to be hurt---and probably the child, too, for a while. Well, see how it goes, had been a favourite saying of Laura's mother, and that was all that Laura could do. She had managed to get the address of her sister from Vera, who also told Laura that Irene had two small children, a boy and a girl. Irene and Joseph Warburton were not married, as he had not bothered to find out whether his wife was willing to divorce him or not. That she might be dead had obviously not occurred to him. Vera had wanted to know the reason why Laura desired to get in touch with her sister. Laura had merely replied that her mother was dead and she wanted to send on the news to Irene. No mention of Mandy; it had not been necessary, and in any case, Phil had warned Laura to keep silent about the taking of the child without getting in touch with the police. And by this time Laura was in fact becoming perturbed, for she could lose her job if she found herself in trouble with the authorities. What had seemed so simple four and a half years ago now seemed fraught with danger, and Laura could only be glad that any repercussions would affect her and not her mother.
'Laura, when are we going to land?' Mandy's attractive, musical voice broke into Laura's thoughts, and she turned to look into her rosy, freckled face.
'In a few moments---Don't fiddle with your belt. You must keep it on.'
'It wouldn't do any good if we had a crash!'
'You are probably right, but keep it on all the same.'
Mandy twisted about until it was possible for her to kiss Laura's chin. 'I love you for bringing me on this beautiful holiday! I love you more than life!'
Laura blinked and said, 'Good lord! Where did you hear that?'
'James Brindle. He's my boyfriend at play school.'
'And where did he hear it, I wonder?'
'His daddy said it to his mummy---Ooh, look! We're nearly landing!'
'I said it would only be minutes.'
'James was in an airplane once and he said it bumped when it landed on the ground. Do you think this one will bump?'
'It won't if the pilot is careful.'
'I think it will bump.'
'And I think it won't.'
'Why?' Mandy lifted her face, her big brown eyes puzzled and curious. 'How do you know it won't bump?'
'Darling, I don't know for sure it won't bump, but airplanes don't usually bump when they land.'
'Not even a little bump?' persisted Mandy, displaying that most attractive grin she had.
'It could bump a little,' conceded Laura, shaking her head and laughing.
'Will we see the driver when we land?'
'The pilot?' Laura nodded and said, 'Yes, we probably shall see him.'
'I want to say thank you because Uncle Phil always says thank you to a taxi-driver---if we sometimes have a taxi when he doesn't have his car. Uncle Phil said you must always say thank you to people if they do something nice for you, and this was a nice ride, wasn't it?'
'Very smooth,' returned Laura, the child's mention of Phil bringing back vividly his reaction when she told him she had been successful in obtaining her sister's address from Vera.
'Don't waste time in writing, Laura dear. Take a trip and go over, taking Mandy with you.'
She had looked at him through misty eyes. 'You're suggesting I take her because you hope I shan't be bringing her back, aren't you?'
'I admit I have that possibility in mind. Laura, it would solve the entire problem if her father took her off your hands. Can't you see this?'
'Irene has two children of her own. Will she want to take another?'
'She should do---'
'But you won't take a child who isn't yours?'
He had frowned then and reminded her of the other problems involved. 'You seem to keep on forgetting them,' he said with growing impatience.
And so Laura felt she must take his advice. In any case, Teresa had been taken ill and was to go into hospital for an operation. Her mother had told Laura that it was unlikely that she would be back at work for some months. Another problem which would be solved if Mandy's father accepted her, Phil was quick to remind Laura.
The plane was coming down smoothly and Laura saw the mountains which Phil had told her about. He had decided to gather a little information so that he could pass it on to Laura. It was an island steeped in mythology, with Zeus, mighty king of all the Greek gods of pagan times, being born on the peak of Mt. Ida; and also here on the island was the Palace of Minos in whose dark depths had dwelt the fierce monster---half bull, half man---born of Pasiphae, who had mated with a bull and whose husband, King Minos, had in his shame taken the Minatour and housed it in what had become known as the Labyrinth. All most interesting, she had told Phil, but her mind was on realities, not mythology and the pagan gods of countless ages past. She was now thinking of the coming meeting with her sister, who did not know anything of this visit, because both Laura and Phil had believed that Irene might just be so ashamed that she would not want to meet her sister, and Laura had had no wish that her visit should be wasted by Irene's persuading her lover to take her away on holiday just until Laura had gone back to England. It was the kind of thing which Laura could easily attribute to her sister, for she had always been a shirker, avoiding the unpleasant no matter at what cost either to herself or others. So now Laura was to arrive, unexpectedly, with the child of the man Irene was living with.
'We've landed,' she heard Mandy exclaim, 'and we didn't bump!'
'Good. I told you we would not.'
'Can I go on the sands as soon as we get off this airplane?'
'No, darling. We have to go to an hotel and unpack our clothes.'
The hotel was in Heraklion, the Florida, which was on the sea. Phil had booked it for them---in fact, mused Laura, he had done everything except travel with them. She had begged him to take some of his leave and accompany them but he had declined. He was saving all his holidays for the prewedding activities of finding a suitable home and furnishing it, and for the honeymoon. Laura had suggested that if they did marry they use her delightful little Mews home for a while, but Phil had been adamant in his decision to be the provider. Laura had spent a great deal of time, money and energy on the imaginative conversion and she did wonder how she would feel if and when the time came for her to leave it.
'I like this lovely room, don't you, Laura?' Mandy was by the window, looking out to the aquamarine sea where gaily painted little caiques bobbed about, most of them moored to the jetty.
'Yes, it's very charming.'
'Can I unpack my own clothes?' Mandy turned and her piquant little freckled face was alive with pleasure. 'I want to wear my bikini and go out to the beach!'
'Not today, love. We have things to do.'
'What things?'
'Look, I'll open your suitcase and you can unpack, put all but your dresses in those two drawers over there. I'll hang your dresses up in the wardrobe with mine.'
'Okay.' For the next few minutes Mandy was fully occupied and so was Laura, watching her as she herself began to unpack what few clothes she had brought. She was not expecting to stay long, and in fact she would have stayed only long enough to find out whether or not Mandy's father would have her, had she been alone. But Mandy expected this to be a holiday, and so Laura had decided to stay for about five or six days.
'What are we going to do when we've unpacked?' Mandy wanted to know as she handed one of her dresses to Laura to hang up.
'Take a stroll around the town.'
'But, the beach---'
'Tomorrow, Mandy. It's already late afternoon, so we shall just have a nice little walk and then come back here for a meal. By that time it will be bed for you, my child. You've had a long day.'
'I know. I couldn't sleep because I was so excited, wasn't I?'
'You woke me at half past six!'
'Here's another dress. I like it most of them all and I gave Uncle Phil a big kiss for buying it for me.'
Laura took it from her, recalling with poignant intensity the occasion of Phil's buying it. Mandy had been ill with measles and was so pale and wan that Phil had asked what could be done to cheer her up.
Mandy had heard, and said with a weak little smile, 'I saw a beautiful dress in that shop that Laura knows...'
Teresa had been there so Phil said he and Laura would go at once and buy the dress. That was the day when Laura knew for sure that Phil would soon proto her; it was the day when she had taken it for granted that Mandy would soon have a father. Laura and Phil had dined at the Ritz, leaving early because Laura had promised Teresa she would not be late. Phil had been so tender with Mandy, and the child had put her arms about his neck and kissed him, several times. A touching scene and a happy one at that time. Laura would never have believed anyone who said Phil would ever object to taking Mandy into his care. And now he did not want her...
It was three hours later that Laura stood by Mandy's bed, staring down at her, sleeping so peacefully even though it was not yet eight o'clock. Yes, it had been a long day for the child. So quiet and unmoving, placid and dreamless, her pretty face totally relaxed. She had no notion of the trouble her coming into the world had caused. A truly beautiful child with an equally beautiful nature. An imp at times and then an angel. Laughter and tears followed one after the other quite often but never sulks or pettish shows of temper. She had a temper, of course. Without one a person had no character. Fortunately Mandy's temper came to the surface only when she was strongly provoked, which was very seldom indeed.
Moving away from the bed, Laura reached in the wardrobe for a light coat and went silently from the room, having earlier made sure that the hotel provided a child tender who went continuously to those rooms where children were sleeping. There was a line of cabs outside the hotel and Laura hailed one.
'Take me to this address, please.' She showed him the paper on which the address was printed. Phil had advised her to put up in Heraklion and then take a taxi to the address given her by Vera.
'It's some way out from the city,' Phil had said, 'but from what I have gathered from the map, it won't take too long to get there.'
The taxi-driver scanned the paper by the small light above his head. 'It is about twenty kilomet!' he said, and the cab jerked forward even before Laura had time to close the door. 'You on holiday?' His English was good but spoken quickly and with a very pronounced accent.
'In a way, yes.' He was driving along the north coast and she remembered that about here was a region of great fertility, with olive groves and vineyards. It was spring, and Laura could imagine the flowers and the lush green valley of Knossos. She must visit the Palace of Minos before she went back to England. 'Do you know this place where I am going?' she asked after a long silence.
'Everybody know the magnificent house and estate of Mr. Pavlos Penalis. He grow manys grapes and bananas and olives.'
'Mr. Penalis?' repeated Laura, puzzled. And then, before she allowed the man time to speak, she was adding, 'Oh, he's the owner of an estate where many people are employed, is that it?'
'That is right, madam. Mr. Pavlos has of the manys villas for his workers.'
'And what do these workers do?'
'They look after the grapes and olives. And he has too many peoples in the house and garden as well.'
'Too many?' she began, then realised it was just the man's way of saying that this man Pavlos employed several people in his home. Domestics and probably gardeners. 'Is it a very large estate?' she enquired interestedly.
'The largest on the island, madam. Mr. Pavlos is of the very respected gentlemans, you understand?'
'Yes. He is very wealthy and influential.'
'You go to see one of his workers?'
She had to smile, for it was plain that he had taken it for granted that it could not be this illustrious Pavlos Penalis whom she was visiting.
'Yes, a Mr. Warburton and---and his wife.'
'The Englishman; yes, he work there. He the foreman of the estate.'
'I see. And he lives in one of the villas, obviously?'
'I not know this---"obviously" that you say?'
'Never mind. He lives in a villa in the grounds of the house?'
'Not in the grounds of house. The villas are some way away. I take you, so not for you to worry.' A small pause and then, 'You would like me to stay and take you back to hotel?'
'I think that might be a good idea,' she answered. 'It seems very lonely around here.'
'Lonely yes, but in daytime okay. The sun make everythings look cheerful, no?'
'Yes, I suppose it must be lovely in the sunshine.'
As it was, she could see very little now that they were in the valley, and she lapsed into silence, thinking of the meeting with her sister and the man, Joseph, she was living with. Laura felt her heartbeats increase in speed as the minutes passed and the meeting was drawing closer.
At last the car turned off the road and was entering a narrower one overhung with trees. Soon she saw lights shining in the windows of the villas; the driver swung round a bend and came to a halt before a villa which was in total darkness. Laura's heart sank.
'There isn't anybodys in,' stated the taxi-driver unnecessarily. 'All windows very dark!'
Laura got out all the same and glanced around. This particular villa was larger than all the others---as was fitting for the man in charge, she supposed.
Should she knock at the door? It seemed silly to do so but yet she felt she could not just go away without making absolutely sure there was no one at home.
'It is no good,' said the man as she began to walk up the narrow path. 'Mr. Joseph must have gone on a holiday.'
'You're sure this is his house?' A superfluous question, she thought, a sigh escaping her.
'I know it is the right house, madam.'
'I must find out when they'll be back. Will the people at this other house know, do you think?'
'I ask for you,' he offered, and she stood there until he came back. He was shaking his head.
'They not think Mr. Joseph have gone on holiday. They think he get other job.'
'He's left here? Is there any way of knowing for sure?' There was one way, she realised---the only way, in fact---and that was to see the owner of the estate. 'Drive me to the house of Mr. Penalis, please,' she said and got back into the cab.
'Very good, madam.'
The road seemed to meander through groves of trees and between dark fields before the brilliantly lighted villa came into view. Long and low, it yet bore an air of patrician quality, with its white walls and blue shutters, the flowers climbing up marble columns flanking the wide, impressive entrance. A flight of marble steps led to an oak studded front door.
'I ring the bell for you!' The man, whom she could now see more clearly by the floodlights coming from various points of the roof, was dark and stocky, and his smile revealed several bright gold fillings.
'Thank you.' She followed him up the steps, and the next moment the door was opened by a dark Greek, immaculately clad in a black suit and white shirt. Laura thought he must be a sort of butler, and this idea was strengthened when he spoke in very good English in answer to her query and then bade her enter, and said he would tell his master she wanted to see him.
She could smell food and realised she might have come while Mr. Penalis was having his dinner.
'Will you please come this way, madam?' The butler gestured and she followed him along the wide, flower-draped hall to a door about halfway down. 'Your name, please?' he asked and she gave it to him. Then she was alone with the master of the house, and she just stood there in amazement for he was vastly different in appearance from any other Greek she had seen since arriving on the island several hours ago. This man was tall and fair-haired, with Nordic features and blue eyes.
He mustn't be Greek, was her first thought, but then he remembered his name, which was certainly Greek.
'Can I help you, Miss Hudson?' he enquired in excellent English which carried the merest hint of an accent.
'I'm sorry to trouble you, Mr. Penalis, but I'm looking for a Mr. Warburton. I've come from England especially to talk with him. Has he left your employ?' She felt mesmerised, not only because he was so different from what she expected but also because he was the most impressive and handsome man she had ever set her eyes on. She became aware of an unfathomable tug of emotion as she continued to stare at him, noticing the bronzed skin and metallic glint in the blue eyes, the inflexible jawline, the strong determined chin below a sensuous, uncompromising mouth. His features on the whole had an aquiline quality which strengthened the impression of arrogance and superiority. Her eyes moved to scan the lithe, perfectly proportioned figure, and she was not deceived by its slenderness; there was a spate of latent power and strength in a tensed and sinewed body like that, she decided. He was standing in the middle of the room, impeccably clad in a casual suit of beige linen and a snow-white shirt which contrasted in stark distinction with his Arab-dark skin. So unusual, she thought, to have fair hair and yet be so brown. She guessed, though, that the colour of his skin was the result of the climate rather than racial elements. He obviously led an outdoor life.
'Joseph Warburton!' The sharpness of the deep, vibrant voice startled Laura in a way that caused her nerves to tingle. 'You're a friend of his?'
'His---wife is my sister.' She watched closely for his reaction and saw the blue eyes become shuttered. 'Is something wrong?'
'Your sister... ?' Quieter tones now but again Laura felt a disturbance of nerves. The man's eyes swept Laura from head to foot, then settled on her face in a long, all-examining scrutiny. She supposed he was searching for a likeness but there never had been one.
'Yes, she came to Greece with Joseph Warburton almost five years ago and I want to speak to her.'
The man's eyes flickered as their owner said, 'It was Joseph you mentioned, whom you said you wanted to speak to.' He paused but only for a second. 'Do you mean to say you haven't seen your sister for five years?'
Laura bit her lip, not having the least desire to go into personal details with this man but, having come here, she supposed she would, out of politeness, have to answer some of his questions. However, he was at the moment sweeping a negligent hand and inviting her to sit down. He then asked if she would like some refreshment.
'I'll have a dry martini, if I may,' she answered, noticing the languid quality about his movements as he went towards a cocktail cabinet. From the depth of a most comfortable armchair she glanced around, absorbing with an experienced, appreciative eye the atmosphere of elegance and good taste that characterised the large, wide-windowed room. The carpet was amber-rose, with matching drapes that reached the floor; the ceiling was decorated with fine gold leaf, the walls hung with gold and crimson embossed paper. The furniture was antique, some French, some Queen Anne. On occasional tables delicate figure groups in Chelsea and Worcester porcelain were subtly illuminated by lights invisible to the eye. There was a white marble fireplace with brass andirons and above it an El Greco painting. The sofa, which Pavlos Penalis moved over to after placing her drink on a small table at her elbow, was covered with French tapestry and matched the four large armchairs scattered about the room in casual good taste, one of which was occupied by Laura. Wealth and judicious planning had combined to produce a room of exquisite charm and character, and Laura very naturally concluded that a woman's hand had been involved---and, therefore, that Pavlos Penalis was married.
'Now,' he said when she did not speak, 'perhaps you will tell me a little about this business. From what I gather you have come from England to find your sister whom you haven't seen for five years.' He paused fractionally. 'Or was it the man she was living with you wanted to see?'
Laura coloured at the knowledge that he knew her sister wasn't married to Joseph Warburton, by whom she had two children.
'It's over four and a half years---Mr. Penalis, I sense a mystery. I've been to the villa where they were supposed to live and it looked deserted. The taxi-driver made some enquiries for me and the people seemed to think that Mr. Warburton had left your employ.'
'Yes, he has.'
'Then where are they? I must find them. It's urgent!' She had no idea just how desperate she appeared to the man sitting there... or how attractive...
'I have no idea where either of them is,' he began apologetically. 'I'm afraid I have some disturbing news for you, Miss Hudson. Your sister went off with another man a couple of weeks ago---left her children with their father---'
'Oh, not again!' The exclamation escaped before Laura could suppress it and she saw the man's brows lift and a sneer of contempt twist his mouth.
'It's the second time, then?'
'No---well, she wasn't married when she went off with Joseph Warburton, but he was.' She picked up her glass, while her other hand was pushed through her hair. To have come all this way and then not to find Mandy's father... 'How can I find them?' she asked desperately. 'You say my sister went off, but surely you have some idea where she is---' She broke off, noticing his puzzlement, and after only a small hesitation she told him everything. Although she made her narrative as short as possible, she saw his expression change repeatedly, and when she stopped speaking there was a heavy frown on his brow.
Before he could speak there was a gentle knock on the door, and the same manservant who had admitted Laura said respectfully, 'Mr. Pavlos, your dinner is ready to be served.'
'Tell George to keep it hot for a while.'
'He said to tell you, Mr. Pavlos, that it is not the meal to be kept hot without it spoiling.' His eyes went fleetingly to Laura and a half smile touched his lips. She responded, admiring his graciousness in speaking English.
'I see...' He glanced at Laura questioningly. 'Have you had your dinner?'
'I---I...' A kind of elation swept through her at the idea of a man like this inviting her to dine with him, for that was what he was doing. Where were his wife, his family? Perhaps he was a bachelor, but she could not imagine a man as attractive as he managing to remain a bachelor, for she had already guessed he must be around thirty years of age. 'You said there was a minder for children left in the hotel?'
She nodded. 'Yes, that's right.' She looked at him, immaculate and obviously dressed for dinner, even if casually so, whereas she was in a blouse and skirt beneath her coat, and both were still creased from being in her suitcase since early that morning. 'I haven't really eaten,' she found herself saying. 'I had a snack with Mandy at about half past six.'
'Then you must stay here and eat.' He turned to the man waiting respectfully by the door. 'Another cover, Marco. I expect George will have cooked far too much for one---he usually does.'
'Yes, Mr. Pavlos.' The man departed silently just as Laura remembered the taxi waiting on the forecourt. She mentioned it, looking troubled because if she dismissed it she would not know how to get back to the hotel.
'Don't worry, I'll have him sent away---' He flicked an imperious hand to prevent the interruption Laura was about to make. 'He'll be paid his due, and then I will have one of my servants drive you back in my car. You're at the Florida, I think you said?'
'Yes, that's right.'
He walked over to a bell-rope and tugged it gently. Marco returned and was told to dismiss the taxi.
'Give the man his full fare back into the city,' he added and again flicked a hand---impatiently this time ---when Laura opened her mouth to thank him. He then paused a moment as if waiting for the door to close behind his manservant, yet also he appeared to be frowningly searching for words. He shook his head. 'There is no way of breaking this gently to you, Miss Hudson,' he said with a hint of regret in his vibrant voice. 'Your sister went off with a Greek whose wife is the daughter of one of the most powerful and prominent men on this island. He and his family originate from the deep Mani, where the vendetta still prevails just as it does here in one or two of the remote mountain villages where little has changed in centuries. Crete and the Mani are the only two places in Greece where the vendetta plays a part in people's lives.' He stopped and frowned as if at some secret thought, and Laura, her heart pounding unnaturally against her ribs, spoke before he could continue.
'The vendetta?' Shivers sped along her spine, for the very word conjured up visions of dark deeds and fearsome, near-pagan customs. 'What are you trying to tell me, Mr. Penalis?' Her voice was cracked and edged with fear, a circumstance that did not go unnoticed by her companion. 'You must know that what you've just said has made me feel greatly perturbed about my sister. I know I came here to Crete primarily to find Mr. Warburton, but now---well, the whole situation is different from what I had expected. I sense that you know my sister is in danger---grave danger. This vendetta you mention---I had never heard of it until now but I have been told that the Cretans were a...' Her voice trailed to the silence of confusion and colour leapt to her cheeks.
The man sitting opposite seemed deeply amused, quirking her a glance as he finished for her, '"...a wild lot, ready to fight to the last breath for a cause, who are cruel to their enemies and who have always had a personal contempt for death".' A low laugh escaped him as he added, 'I am quoting, as you presumably know?'
'Phil---the gentleman who wants to marry me---has read up a few details about Crete and the people, and he passed them on to me.'
'We were a wild lot once,' he murmured as if speaking to himself. 'We had to be, or go under. We've been a prey to invaders for more than a thousand years, and as a result we're a tough nation. We didn't always belong to Greece, remember.'
Laura made no comment on that but asked if the vendetta really did exist.
'In the remote places, yes. I have already said so, Miss Hudson.'
Laura felt her heart begin to throb painfully again. 'In what way can it affect my sister?' she asked fearfully and saw a swift frown touch his forehead. When he spoke it was plain that he was being guarded in what he revealed to her.
'The idea of the vendetta is revenge for an injury done to a person. At one time murder was by no means out of the ordinary, but such strong measures are rarely indulged in today. With your sister---well, it's impossible to predict what will happen if and when her whereabouts are known. At present no one seems to know where the couple are; they might have left Crete or they might be in hiding, living under assumed names. The latter seems more than likely.'
'How stupid of Irene!' Laura was more angry now than fearful. 'Had she no idea what risks she was running?'
The Greek shrugged his shoulders. 'Love, Miss Hudson,' he commented briefly, and she coloured and looked away because of the mocking amusement of his glance and because she knew he was thinking of her own love affair and mocking that too.
'My sister has obviously left herself open to some form of reprisal,' Laura stated after a while. 'Is there anything I can do to help her?'
'Nothing, when you don't know where she is.' Leaning forward in his chair, Paul took up his glass and put it to his lips. 'If I were you,' he advised, 'I'd concentrate on what you came for---finding the father of this child you want to get rid of.'
'I don't want to get rid of her,' she protested, anger bringing colour to her cheeks, which he noticed, and lifted an arrogant eyebrow. 'Can we get back to the question of my sister, please? I'm not leaving her to her fate, as you seem to be suggesting.'
His blue eyes narrowed. 'The affair, Miss Hudson,' he began tersely, 'has little or nothing to do with me. I merely advised.' He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 'Take the advice or leave it. I assure you it is immaterial to me what you decide to do.'
Laura bit her lip, conscious of having vexed him--- this when she needed his help, desperately, for she had no one else to turn to. If only Phil had come with her! How she longed for his assistance, his smooth and logical method of tackling problems. She looked at the Greek, saw the taut jaw, and felt an apology would be wise.
'I'm sorry if I appeared sharp, Mr. Penalis. I've only the worry as an excuse.' Her eyes were wide and limpid as they met his, and the hand holding the glass was shaking. 'I---I don't know where to begin.'
He was frowning thoughtfully and several seconds elapsed before he said, 'You could go to the police, of course, but I might as well warn you that, should they act and find your sister, then her safety would certainly be at stake. You have to keep in mind that at this very moment there are people looking for your sister and the man she has run off with... people whose sole interest in their whereabouts is revenge.'
Laura's heart gave a lurch and all colour drained from her face. 'You---frighten me,' she stammered. 'Surely I---I can do something!'
'I'm sorry if I frighten you, Miss Hudson.' He stopped and stared directly at her. 'If you haven't had any communication with your sister in over four and a half years, then frankly, I don't understand your anxiety.'
'You mean...' She stared and frowned. 'You're suggesting that, because we've never been close, I should abandon her---just shrug my shoulders and leave her to her fate?' Laura's eyes were disbelieving.
'There happens to be one thing you have overlooked. Your sister would not thank you for any investigations you might make which could result in her being vulnerable to these people of whom I've just spoken. At present she's reasonably safe, because she and this man are in hiding, but woe betide them both if ever the brothers Gavezas get hold of them.'
'Gavezas? These are the---well, the avengers?'
'Would-be avengers, yes. Their father's formidable enough but his two sons are held in awe on this part of the island, where they rule their estate with little consideration for those who work for them. However, don't let me mislead you. The family are not barbarians. They are what they are---believers in the vendetta that is, an eye for an eye.'
'Have they been revenged on people before?' enquired Laura, diverted for the moment by her interest in what she was learning.
'To my knowledge no one has been foolish enough to run any risks,' was his grim rejoinder as he rose from his chair to refill his glass. He had glanced at hers first and found its contents little different from when he had given her the drink. 'Getting back to your original reason for being here,' he said over his shoulder, 'I should take my advice and concentrate on finding the child's father. That appears to be the more pressing business as far as I can see.'
She stared at his broad back, her face white, her eyes shadowed with fear. Irene had never been brave, and any kind of pain had driven her crazy. If she were to find herself in the clutches of these men, she would die of fear before they even touched her.
The Greek turned, his eyes all-discerning as they flicked over her, taking in everything else besides her expression and the uncontrolled quiver of her lips.
'If I could get the police to smuggle her out of the country,' she began, but stopped on noting his expression.
'Aren't you taking a lot for granted?' he put in quietly. 'You've said enough to convince me that your sister can be obstinate, and obviously she's wilful. Is she going to leave the country just because you say she must?'
'Does she know the danger she's in?'
'I should think she has some idea. The man she's run off with certainly will be aware of the reprisals which could take place, but whether he's told your sister of it is something neither you nor I can guess.'
'I'll bet he hasn't.' Laura's voice was emphatic. 'Irene's always been...' She tailed off, looking for the word she wanted. Her companion proffered the word she had almost used before stopping herself.
'A coward?' A sneer lifted one corner of his mouth. 'She seems a thoroughly unlikable woman and I can't see why you should be troubling yourself about her. Yes, leave her to her fate is my recommendation. Concentrate on what you came here for---'
'How can I?' she broke in desperately. 'My sister's in danger!'
'I reckon she'll be wily enough to escape,' he returned indifferently.
'In any case,' went on Laura, bypassing what he had said, 'how can I begin looking for Mandy's father when I have Mandy herself to look after? I'd promised to give her a holiday whichever way things went---that is, whether or not her father was willing to have her. She was expecting to go on to the beach and---and play...' Tears filled her eyes and her throat felt blocked. She swallowed convulsively, lips trembling. And when she eventually glanced up it was to see the most odd expression on her companion's face. His eyes were focused on her; he seemed to be profoundly moved now and she could only stare, bewildered and---for some inexplicable reason---faintly uneasy.
She said, without knowing why, 'Do you like this Gavezas family?'
'I have business dealings with the father---Spiros. Yes, I like him---'
'The sons, though?' she cut in urgently.
'I'd not trust either of them in a case like the one you are concerned by. They could be merciless.'
'You're not sparing me, are you?'
'I never believe in deliberately misleading people, or in keeping them in ignorance of something they ought to know.' Again he was indifferent. She watched his fingers---lean long fingers---moving lightly on the stem of his glass. She wondered if he were becoming bored and was regretting his invitation for her to stay for dinner. Her first instinct was to say she would leave at once, but she needed his help. She had to do something about saving Irene from her own folly.
'There's some way you can help me,' she began. 'This man's wife---can she give me a clue to where her husband might have gone?'
His brows lifted a fraction. 'My dear girl,' he said with a hint of asperity, 'if Giorgia knew, she'd most certainly tell her brothers.'
Laura looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. 'To be so helpless...' she murmured.
'You ought to resign yourself that there isn't anything you can possibly do. Your sister could be anywhere; you don't even know if she's on this island.'
'You seem to think she is.'
'Did I give that impression? Well, I'm as ignorant as you, so if I did give the impression that I believed she was still here, then it was unintentional.' He put his glass to his lips, then took it away again without taking a drink. He was thoughtful again, and shaking his head. 'It's very clear to me, Miss Hudson, that you've plenty of troubles of your own without involving yourself in any more. You've said you can't look for Joseph because you have his child on your hands.'
'That's right.' Tears were close but she knew she would feel exceedingly foolish if she allowed this man to see her indulge in the feminine weakness of crying. 'We shall have to think of something,' he decided, but as his manservant appeared to tell him dinner was ready, Laura had to contain her impatience for a little while.
Laura had surprised herself by the admission that she was hungry, and she was to surprise herself even more by the hearty meal she made. The first course was a delicious seafood cocktail, which was eaten in near silence even though she wanted to learn more about Pavlos Penalis's idea---for she was certain that he already did have an idea for helping her. That it was strange never entered her head; not for one moment did she suspect him of any personal motivation.
The next course was baby lamb cooked Greek style, on a charcoal grill. It came in pieces, skewered tightly together, and with it were several different vegetables. It was when the meal was on their plates and the servant had left that Mr. Penalis said coolly, and with the confidence of one whose word is always adhered to, 'You must bring the little girl here, where there are several girls who will take care of her while you are making your enquiries.'
She stared, her knife and fork idle in her hands. 'Bring her here. You---you mean to---to stay?'
'Yes; you must both move in. Hotels are not the thing for children anyway. Here Mandy will have the freedom of the grounds, and if she wants to go to the beach and you aren't free to take her, then either Lefki or Julia will be only too happy to take her, and to play with her.'
'She can be a handful sometimes.' Laura felt foolish, saying a thing like that, but she was so staggered by the proposal that she was lost for words.
'I daresay the girls will cope. There's Pelaya, too. But she comes in daily. I believe she has three small sisters, so she'll be able to manage if the others find the child difficult.'
So calm! Planning her stay here without even asking if this was what she wanted. But the next moment Laura was sending him a grateful glance, and a smile fluttered to her lips. His vivid blue eyes held hers, but there was nothing to be read from their expression.
'You're very kind to offer me this way out of my difficulty, Mr. Penalis,' she said quietly. 'Mandy won't be difficult---she's a sweet little girl. I misled you when I said she can be a handful. She's never disobedient, but sometimes more than ordinarily mischievous. She's never had a father, you see, and I tend to spoil her a little---and so did my mother.' Her voice held a trace of self-deprecation but her eyes were dreamy, as if she were diverting her mind from troublesome thoughts to many happy recollections. And because she was not looking at the man opposite to her, she missed the change of expression, the softening of the eyes, the relaxing of the mouth, the movement of a nerve at the side of his throat. Nor did she hear him catch his breath...
When next he spoke, it was in the same authoritative tone of voice, a voice tinged with the accent which Laura was finding exceedingly attractive.
'I shall be over at the hotel myself tomorrow morning at about ten o'clock. Try to be packed and ready to move.'
She found herself saying, with a meekness which would surely have surprised Phil, 'I'll be ready, Mr. Penalis. And thank you again for such a kind offer.'
He said nothing; his mind seemed to be working on something which she suddenly wished she could discover. He wore a faraway look which had a baffling effect on her and she frowned, unable to fathom her own emotions. Her eyes were fixed on his face, and she was once again conscious of the masculine perfection of every single feature, conscious too of the difference in them from those of the average Greek. And without thinking she found herself saying, 'All the Greeks I've seen are dark---' And then she stopped abruptly, fearing he would consider her observation an impertinence because of its meaning. To her relief he smiled faintly and told her that as they had had many invasions here in Crete, she would find various types.
'You'll see Greeks typical of those on the mainland,' he went on after a slight pause. 'And some of the Nordic types of which I happen to be one; there are several others, depending on their origin in the West or the East.'
'I see... it's interesting.' She spoke rather lamely because she felt she ought to have been able to find something less commonplace to say.
'Anthropology is always interesting, as are the changes due to environment.'
She nodded in agreement and heard herself say, 'I feel that adaptation to environment is one of the mysteries of our world, and one of its wonders.'
'You have animals in mind, mainly.' It was a statement on which Laura made-no comment and he continued, 'Sadly, Man continues to destroy habitats, causing animals either to begin again or perish, become extinct.' He glanced at her and she sensed the question in his eyes: was the conversation becoming too deep for her? And because she had studied geomorphology, she brought her favourite subject into it.
'Man can certainly affect the ecology, especially of, say, a stream or a lake, and then animals and fish and even birds suffer and eventually become so scarce that they have to be protected.' Her lovely eyes met his across the candlelit table, eyes wide and faintly sad... and to the man sitting there, the aristocratic Greek with the Nordic features, there was something so engaging about her that he found himself thinking of all the women he had had, and seeking in his memory for a comparison. There was none. This girl was---in his experience---unique.
The silence stretched and it seemed that tension charged the atmosphere between them. Strange new emotions stirred Laura's senses; it was like waking up, dazedly, in unfamiliar surroundings. She seemed to be groping for the established, the recognizable, and found herself determinedly processing her mind to bringing Phil's face before her mental vision.
Her companion's voice reached her softly. 'You're a most interesting and intelligent young lady.' He paused, to smile at her sudden blush. 'You didn't tell me what you do for a living.'
'I work for an interior designer.' Automatically she glanced around the room, profoundly aware of the inner relief at this interruption of the wordless, prolonged silence which had such a nerve-stretching effect on her.
'So you look upon your surroundings with a critical eye.' His voice was edged with humour but in his eyes was the challenge she had half expected.
'I think this room is beautiful,' she replied simply. 'And the other room as well.'
'My mother helped when, after my father died, I decided to renovate and refurnish the home.'
'Your mother didn't mind the changes? I mean--- most older people become attached to what is familiar.'
'Mother was moving out; she had always wanted a smaller house.'
'She's still living?'
He shook his head. 'She died four years ago.'
Laura hesitated before asking her next question; she was afraid of being considered far too curious about things which could not possibly concern her.
However, she did put the question and his answer was, 'No, I have no other close relatives---just many cousins, which is usual with Greeks since they have such large families.' He paused and when he spoke again his voice had a faintly mocking inflection which hurt Laura in some quite incomprehensible way. 'I'm not married, if that was what you really wanted to know.'
Colour rushed to her cheeks. 'That wasn't what I was asking, Mr. Penalis. I had guessed you weren't married, but in any case it is no concern of mine.'
A different manservant came into the room, quietly and unobtrusively, and took away the dinner plates.
'The sweet is poached bananas,' said the man whose name---Laura was told afterwards---was Demetrius.
'For you, madam?'
'Yes, please?' She looked at her host with a question in her eyes. 'I haven't had poached bananas before.'
'You'll like them. An added attraction for me is that as we grow the bananas here, they are on the plate less than an hour after they've been picked.'
The bananas had been poached in wine and lemon juice with added nutmeg and cinnamon. Then they had been liberally covered with flaked almonds and then flamed after rum had been poured over them. They were served with fresh cream and a small amount of ice cream. Laura had never tasted anything so delicious and she readily confessed it to her smiling host.
'I rather thought you would enjoy that particular dessert,' he returned. 'I'm glad it was on the menu tonight.' He glanced at her plate. 'And now we shall take our coffee in the salon and have a serious talk about your problems.'
The following morning, true to his word, Mr. Penalis was at the hotel with his car, a luxurious low-slung limousine at the sight of which Mandy's eyes shone.
'It's even better than Uncle Phil's!' she exclaimed. 'Can I ride in the front, please, Auntie Laura?'
Laura shook her head and frowned. She said quietly, 'Mandy, this is the gentleman I told you about. His name is Mr. Penalis.'
'Oh, that's a funny name!'
'No, it isn't,' began Laura uncomfortably. 'It's a Greek name---you know we're in Greece and so names will be different from ours. Now, get into the back of the car and sit quietly until we arrive at Mr. Penalis's house...'Her voice trailed away to a puzzled silence as she caught the Greek's expression. 'Is---is something wrong?' she asked a little anxiously.
'Nothing wrong,' he answered, his eyes still on the child, who was looking up at him from her tiny height, her small white shoulder bag in her hands. 'But she's the image of her father. Never have I seen such a remarkable likeness.' He turned to Laura. 'He'll certainly not be able to deny she is his,' he added with some amusement.
'I've never met him, of course.' She turned to see the hotel porter bringing out the luggage.
He was relieved of it and given a tip, for which he grinned delightedly and said in very broken English, 'Manys thank yous!' And then he added, 'Efharisto poli!'
'Ooh! What does that mean?' Mandy wanted to know.
'Thank you very much.'
'I'll say it next time!'
'In you go,' ordered Pavlos Penalis, giving her a tap on the backside. 'The backseat.'
'Yes, all right.' Her chubby face was wreathed in smiles.
Laura thought ruefully of something her mother had once said. 'That child loves men already! Heaven knows what she'll be like when she grows up.'
Yes, Mandy had always taken to men. And, it had seemed, there had grown up a rather special rapport between her and Phil, and because of it Laura had had no qualms about his accepting her.
'Something worrying you?' The question came as she stepped into the car. Mr. Penalis was standing with the door open and she'd had to pass close. 'Those eyes of yours are most revealing.'
'I was thinking of Phil and his refusal to take Mandy. You see, they were such good friends.
'Your dress is going to catch in the door.' The shortness of his voice came as a shock and Laura stared at him, utterly bewildered by the change. She drew in the skirt and he closed the door. 'Once you've found Joseph Warburton and handed his child over to him, you'll be happy?' The shortness was still there, still as puzzling.
'I suppose so,' she said falteringly. 'But... well, the wrench will be awful.'
'For both of you,' was his grim rejoinder.
'She's so secure with me, as she was with my mother.'
'Your mother must have been an exceptional woman.' The car surged forward once it was out of the hotel drive and on the main road. Smoothly it ran, and with an almost noiseless purr of the engine.
'She was exceptional.' Laura's heart had warmed to him instantly, for she had loved her mother fervently. 'She took the blame for Irene's misdemeanour, but she was rewarded by the happiness Mandy gave her.'
'And I presume the child has given you a great deal of happiness?'
Where was this leading? Laura wondered. 'Yes, indeed. Life is so interesting when you have a child about the house. There's always a novel situation cropping up. There are a hundred questions to answer, dozens of little jobs to do. Yes, life has been very happy since I took Mandy.'
'Why are you talking about me?' came the question from the back. 'Will you please speak a bit louder because I can't hear properly?'
The man at the wheel laughed, and as Laura turned her head she caught her breath at the attractiveness of his profile.
'What we are saying is not for your ears, young lady,' he said.
'But if you're talking about me, Mr.---Mr.---oh, can I call you Uncle?'
'Certainly. Uncle Paul.'
'Paul?' echoed Laura without thinking. 'The taxi-driver...' She came to a slow stop, embarrassed by what she was saying. Her companion appeared not to notice as he continued for her,'... said my name was Pavlos? You didn't know that Pavlos is Greek for your Paul? I prefer Paul, and since Mandy is going to use it you might as well do the same.'
'Oh, but---'
'Don't be shy because I am intending to call you Laura.'
She said nothing but knew the colour had risen in her cheeks. This man was travelling far too fast for her, she thought. He was arranging her stay here, taking over her life, in fact... And for them to be using given names seemed far too familiar. For the second time Laura experienced a slight twinge of uneasiness, but search as she would, there was no concrete reason she could find for it. And so, as before, she dismissed it as of no importance. What was important was the finding of the man she had come to see, but also she intended to spend some of her time in trying to locate her sister; she could then at least warn her of the danger she was in.
As they drove along the road she had travelled in the taxi the previous evening, she allowed her thoughts to wander back to the conversation which had taken place while she and her host were drinking coffee after dinner. He had been most convincing in his assertion that she could do nothing for her sister and she ought to be looking for the child's father. And yet through it all had emerged the curious and inexplicable conviction that he was in no particular hurry for her to find the child's father.
And afterwards, she had lain awake in her bed, her mind in a turmoil for she was troubled by so many things, not least of which was that she had arranged to stay here in Crete for five or six days only, being optimistic enough to visualise finding Joseph Warburton immediately, which was not unreasonable since she had been given an address at which she believed he lived.
Yes, she had lain awake far into the night, thinking first of Irene and the mess she was making of her life, even forgetting the probable danger, whatever form that might take. Then there was Mandy's future and the almost unbearable prospect of parting with her. Lastly there was her own happiness with Phil, and for some reason it became nebulous, the future lost in a mist she was unable to penetrate.
The rooms given to Laura and Mandy were the acme of perfection as regarded Laura's idea of taste. The large airy room she herself was to occupy was done in three shades of blue---delicate eggshell blue on the walls, a soft turquoise for the bedspread and drapes, and an entrancing aquamarine for the wall-to-wall carpeting. The furniture was modern and light in colour, with many mirrors forming the wardrobe doors and these spread over the entire length of one wall. The bathroom was similarly coloured and feathery plants contributed to its appeal, for Laura was a keen advocate of houseplants of all sizes and shapes. Mandy's room was smaller and the bed was a single one with a dainty lace cover over a deep mauve counterpane. The thick-pile carpet was in deep purple; the drapes at the windows and the head of the bed were in mauve.
'Ooh, I love it!' Mandy danced about all over the floor. 'Can we stay here for a long time?'
'No, dear, only a few days.'
'I saw a swimming pool. I want to learn to swim. Will Uncle Paul teach me, do you think?'
'I might, if you ask nicely.' The deep rich voice came from the open doorway and Laura swung around. Mandy was already running towards him, and Paul stooped to swing her up into his arms.
'I just thought I'd come up to see if everything is all right for you.' His blue eyes swept the room fleetingly. 'Do you like it, Mandy?'
'I think it's beautiful! Mind you,' she added, her face close to his, 'my room at home's beautiful, too. Aunty Laura did all the wallpapering herself, and the man came from where she works to put the lovely carpet down for me. It was when I was four, and it was part of my birthday present.'
'Only part?' Paul set her down again, watched by Laura whose forehead was creased in a frown. Yes, this man was going too fast for her. 'What else did you have for your birthday?'
'A teddy bear and a doll from Aunty Laura, and a pram for my doll from Uncle Phil. I think Aunty Laura and Uncle Phil are going to get married,' she added, wrinkling her nose. 'They love each other!'
'How do you know?' Paul's voice was terse.
'I saw them kissing---two times.'
Laura turned away to hide her embarrassment. 'I ought to be unpacking,' she said, 'and then I can go along to visit some of your workers on the estate, as you suggested last night. Surely I'll learn something.' She felt awkward, wishing he would go. Already she was half regretting her agreeing to come here. She could not understand the sense of deep depression that seemed to be creeping over her.
'Yes, I'll leave you. And if Mandy has a costume either I, or one of the girls, will go into the pool with her. Can she do anything at all in the water?'
'She's been trying to swim---Phil and I took her to the baths once or twice.'
'We'll soon have you going across the pool,' he promised, and ruffling her dark curls, he left them to their unpacking.
Laura stood by the side of the pool, watching the two in the water---Paul and his young admirer who was clinging to his shoulders, legs straddled across his back as he swam the length of the pool. Tenderness gave a limpid quality to Laura's eyes; Paul glanced up and his own eyes widened in an unfathomable expression before they became veiled. What was he thinking? It was not the first time Laura would have liked to know what lay behind those vivid blue eyes set in that extraordinarily handsome face.
He called, 'Come on in,' but she shook her head and gave a sigh, the weight of depression immediately beginning to drag at her mind and heart and nerves. For although she had spent some time going round the estate workers' villas, she had drawn a complete blank as to her hopes of discovering the whereabouts of the two people she was seeking. None of the estate workers had been told anything except that Joseph had left Paul's employ.
'Did they disappear within minutes of one another?' she had enquired of Paul exasperatedly. 'No one seems aware of the separation---which I didn't mention, of course. But surely people knew that Joseph had been left with the children?'
'What happened was that Irene went, but Joseph, believing she'd come back if only for the sake of the babies, told his colleagues that she had gone to England to visit a sick relative. When it was obvious that Irene wouldn't return, Joseph gave in his notice and left.'
'It seems crazy to throw up his job.'
'I can understand how he felt.' Paul's face had been grim and forbidding as he added, 'No man wants to face the humiliation of friends knowing his wife has deserted him.'
'Everyone believed they were married?'
'She called herself Mrs. Warburton. I had to be told because I was arranging for the work permits. You see, your sister, forgetting about such things as permits, asked if she could work part-time here in the house--- before the first baby came, that was.'
'Here?' in some surprise. Laura could not for one moment imagine Irene's doing anything so menial as housework.
'She needed money for clothes, she said.'
'I see...' Irene had always been extravagant; she had always earned an excellent salary which she kept mostly for herself and so, when she was at home, she had had plenty of money for her own pocket. As a dependent on Joseph she would not receive anything like the money she had had before. 'Do you suppose Joseph might know where Irene is?' added Laura after a pause.
'I shouldn't think so. If he did, then he'd probably dump the two children on her, because he can't very well take a job if he has two babies to look after.'
'When Irene left him---how did he manage?'
'I sent Lefki over to his villa.'
A deep sigh escaped Laura and she fell into a thoughtful silence for a while before saying, 'I hadn't thought about his being---well, hampered already. I can't think that even if I find him, he'll be persuaded to take Mandy, not under these present circumstances.'
Paul had looked at her curiously. 'Didn't that occur to you at the beginning?' he asked.
'No, and I don't think it occurred to you, either.'
'It did, but it wasn't my business. Besides, your future depends on getting the child off your hands.' His voice held a strange, unfathomable inflection which set Laura thinking that Paul had been fairly sure, right from the first, that even if she did make contact with Joseph, he would not be willing to take Mandy. But why, then, hadn't he discussed this possible rejection with her... and advised her to go home? Instead, he had brought her here, into his home... why?
Laura was thinking about these puzzling matters as she watched Paul carrying Mandy on his back across the blue, crystal-clear water of the swimming pool. Of irregular shape, it was surrounded by a broad patio shaded by vines growing over trellis work, and in addition there were numerous tall ferns, small pines, and other beautiful plants flourishing in bronze and earthenware receptacles. On the patio, which was covered with a weatherproof green carpet, were colourful loungers, rattan tables and chairs. The sun was pouring down from a brittle Grecian sky where the only sign of clouds was the trailing veils of altocirrus, almost transparent against the pure sapphire, and tinted gold by the sun.
A faint smile touched her lips as Paul's eyes again met hers. She had been here for a mere two days but already she was owning to being affected by the distinguished and attractive man who was her host. She tried only to think of Phil at those times, when, alone with Paul, she felt the awakening of emotions which actually made her blush. She had never met a man quite like Paul, with his extraordinary charm of manner, which was reminiscent of times long past when male gallantry was the rule rather than the exception, as it was in her country today. And yet she sensed that beneath the veneer of urbanity and polished manners there lay other characteristics not nearly so attractive. In fact, she had the strong conviction that, were he to be crossed, he could show a side so ruthless as to be almost cruel.
Laura hoped she would never cross him, but even as the thought entered her mind it was dismissed as of no importance. She would not be here long enough to cross him, and in any case, she could not visualise an occasion where any such eventuality could occur. They were little more than strangers and they would stay that way. But how little she knew...
He was coming out, firm against the protests of Mandy who said she wanted to stay in the pool all day.
'You've had enough,' he told her and lifted her on to the side. 'She's as light as a doll.' He laughed, taking up a green and gold striped towel he had left handy on a chair. Laura reached for another towel and began drying Mandy, rubbing briskly, arms about her, lovingly. At times like this Laura felt it would be impossible to part with the child she had known practically from birth, the tiny mite she had taken in from her mother's doorstep. Mandy was growing into a lovely child, and not only in looks. Her personality was all any parent or guardian could have wished. A happy, unselfish child, sometimes quiet and self-absorbed, but more often vivacious, with mischief gleaming from those big brown eyes of hers. And as if Nature had been generously disposed, owing to the circumstances of her birth and the early loss of her parents, Mandy had been endowed with the high intelligence of which Phil had spoken, and which, in a way, had added force to his objection to taking her. He had known that she would one day be costing money, if her full potential was not to be denied her.
Aware suddenly of Paul's whole attention on her, Laura paused in her task and glanced up.
'You know,' he murmured in that deep, finely timbred voice of his, 'you ought to have been a mother long ago.'
She coloured delicately, averted her head, and continued rubbing Mandy down.
'Why didn't you come for a swim?' Mandy wanted to know, putting her arms around Laura's neck and planting a resounding kiss on her cheek. 'The water's lovely and warm!'
'I've been busy,' returned Laura. She had stripped Mandy of her swimsuit but she left the towel round her while she went over to the lounger on which the child's clothes lay in an untidy heap where Mandy had left them. Tiny frilly pants were swiftly put on, followed by a matching petticoat, and finally, the blue and white gingham dress which was one of many designed and made by Teresa.
Mandy ran off to chase a butterfly. Laura's eyes turned to the man standing there, towel dangling in his hand. He had watched with interest every action, every gesture, and as she lifted her eyes to his she caught the most unfathomable expression on his face.
'I've been into the village,' she said swiftly, uneasily. 'I thought that a few questions in some of the shops might give me a clue.'
'But you had no success?' Paul reached for a towelling wrap and put it on, covering the magnificent body to which Laura's eyes had been drawn several times--- covertly, it was true, but she hadn't been able to resist the draw... or the comparison with Phil's more stocky, less muscled frame.
'No. It's very difficult to know just how to begin the questioning. I went into a small cafeneion and was in conversation with the proprietor, who said his name was Andreas. I mentioned Joseph and he knew him. It seems that Joseph and Irene used to go in occasionally for morning coffee when they were out shopping. Andreas was puzzled that he hadn't seen them lately, but he knew nothing about Joseph having left your employ.'
'Nor, of course, anything about Irene's escapade?'
'No, and I didn't mention it, naturally.'
Paul flicked a hand, indicating that she should sit down, which she did, but sat at the table. Paul took possession of the chair opposite to her.
'I can appreciate your difficulty in the manner of your approach. You don't want to give rise to gossip because you can never tell where it will end.'
She sighed wearily. 'I think I had better go home---' she said.
'Home?' with a sudden frown. 'Already?'
'I came only for six days at the most.'
'And you've been on the island for three. You haven't given yourself a chance to find Joseph.'
She looked directly at him. 'Do you believe it is possible to find him?' she asked.
Paul avoided her gaze as he replied, 'He must be somewhere, and with time, he can be found.'
'But you've agreed that it's unlikely he'll take Mandy even if I do find him.'
'I still feel he should be told of her existence. The choice is then his.'
'It's too much for me to cope with alone.' The appeal was evident; she had hoped that in some way Paul would have offered assistance. Instead, he had merely left her to her own devices, to make her own enquiries, all of which had proved to be fruitless. 'Do you mind if I use your phone?' she asked with sudden decision. 'I'd like to ring Phil and ask him what I ought to do.'
The blue eyes became veiled again. 'I expect he'll advise you to continue with your enquiries.'
'If I explain, he might just tell me to come home and he'll be willing to have Mandy.'
Silence, filled with tension. Laura felt the fine gold hairs on her arms lift as a quiver ran through her body. Paul spoke after what seemed an eternity of inexplicable suspense.
'Do you suppose there is any possibility of that? From what you've told me he appears to be adamant.'
She bit her lip, nodding despairingly. 'I know it's a mere thread of hope that I have, but you never know. If he loves me, then surely he'll take Mandy.'
'If he loved you he'd never have let you come here in the first place---not alone, that is. His place is with you at a time like this.'
'You're suggesting he doesn't love me?' Laura's voice sharpened with indignation.
'I think you know, Laura, that his love is not as strong as it ought to be.' Paul no longer drew the veil over his eyes; he was looking straightly at her, a challenge in the steady gaze.
'It's---understandable that he is hesitant about taking another man's child.' She was trying to be loyal even while admitting that Paul was right when he said that Phil's love was not as strong as it ought to be.
'Use the phone by all means,' said Paul. 'You will then know exactly where you are with this man you want to marry.'
'Thank you. May I use it now?'
'Of course.'
She rose and moved away, aware that his eyes would be following her. Questions were running riot in her brain, the most insistent being: why was this man so interested in her, and yet not even remotely concerned about her future as regards its being linked with Phil?
She managed to get him quickly, at his office. He was delighted to hear from her, and relieved.
'I rang the Florida two days ago, and they said you'd left after only one night. I was so worried. What happened? Why did you not stay at the hotel? Wasn't it comfortable?'
She paused to assimilate what he had said. He was worried at not being able to contact her at the hotel.
She tried to imagine what Paul would have done under similar circumstances. But it needed no imagination. He'd have taken the first plane over. Yes, she was sure of it.
'I'm staying with the man who employed Joseph.' She went on quickly to explain everything and was glad that Phil listened without interruption. 'So you can see that it's an almost impossible task without going to the police, and this I just can't do.'
'But you don't need the police in order to, find this Joseph Warburton. Forget all about Irene; she's not worth a thought. And if you forget her than you can also forget about the police. The man Warburton can't have vanished into thin air, especially as he has two babies with him. I guess he isn't very far away.'
'If he wasn't going far, then he'd not have left Paul's employ in the first place.'
'But you've just said he left owing to his not wanting people to know of the desertion of his wife---I suppose she was known as his wife?'
'Yes, among his friends and fellow workers he was. Paul knew---'
'This Paul,' he cut in sharply. 'You seem to have become familiar in a very short space of time.'
'He asked me to call him Paul.' She was full up, and hurt. 'Phil, darling, I want you to take Mandy. Please say she can stay with us. I want to marry you---so very much. You're my life, Phil, and I need you so much at this moment. I'm pleading with you to understand, and to say it's all right about Mandy. I want to come home just as soon as I can get a flight.' She was remembering her promise to give Mandy a holiday. Well, for once she was willing to let the child down if only Phil would give her the assurance she was begging for. It would all be for Mandy's benefit in the end. She added before Phil could speak, 'Even if I did find Joseph Warburton, I don't think for one moment he'd take another child, and in any case I just can't see myself parting with her---'
'Have you forgotten the legal aspect of the case?' Abrupt the interruption, terse the tone of voice. Laura could not answer for the constriction in her throat, and after a while she heard Phil say, 'Are you still there, Laura?'
She managed to answer briefly, 'Yes, I'm here.'
'You heard what I've just said?'
'About the legal aspect, yes. But I've been thinking, Phil, that the authorities wouldn't prosecute me for giving Mandy a home and caring for her. I feel sure they'd let me adopt her---I mean, let us adopt her.' Why was she persevering like this when she knew with unerring instinct that she was fighting a losing battle?
'Laura,' came the voice from the other end of the line, 'I haven't changed my mind. There is no question of my adopting Mandy.'
'But---Phil...' Her voice broke, and to her consternation she burst into tears. 'I---I l-love you, darling. Please don't hurt me like this...' Her voice trailed as, very gently, the receiver was taken from her trembling fingers and placed upon its rest. She turned, and it seemed the most natural thing that she should allow herself to be folded in the strong arms that came about her, that she should bury her face against the roughness of the wrap, that she should find comfort even in the midst of the paroxysm of weeping that resulted from the wave of bitter despair that swept over her.
'Hush, my child, the man isn't worth all this misery.' Paul's hand was on her hair, stroking it gently. 'Come into the salon,' he urged and she obeyed meekly, aware that here, in the hall, they were more likely to be come upon by one of the servants than they would be in the living room.
'I'm... sorry,' she quavered when at last she was able to speak. 'I don't usually break down like this, but the strain, and... and Phil...' She lifted her face from his chest and looked at him through lashes still wet with tears. 'He won't take her, Paul---Oh, why won't he?'
'Because he doesn't love you enough to make a sacrifice.'
'You seem so sure he doesn't love me!'
'And so are you sure---'
'No---no! I won't accept it. We've been too happy together... the---the three of us.'
'It's easy to be happy when there are no immediate obstacles to contend with. But once he decided to marry you the situation changed. Instead of three of you there were to be only two.' Although Paul's voice was quiet, the undertone of grimness came through, and Laura knew that Paul was condemning Phil, probably branding him fickle and insincere. 'It would seem, Laura, that you have to make a choice; either you put Mandy into the care of the authorities, or you put this man out of your life. You can't have them both.'
She sagged against him, tears beginning to flow again. Paul found a handkerchief to dry her eyes; he tilted her face, and as she stared at him through the mistiness of her vision she knew he was going to kiss her. His lips came down slowly, as if he were allowing her time for a protest, but she merely stared, caught in the net of misery so that nothing else mattered. Let him kiss her, let him hold her in his arms. She had neither the strength nor the desire to draw herself from the comfort of his nearness. His lips were warm and moist and softly caressing as they moved gently over hers. His hands were cupping her face; she closed her eyes and accepted the lethargy that was flowing over her.
'How much did you hear?' she asked at length. Strangely, it did not seem to matter how much or how little he had heard.
'I hadn't intended to hear anything,' he said. 'But as I came through to find Lefki and send her out to be with Mandy I could not help but overhear you pleading with this man, and saying you wanted to go home. I stopped then because I was interested. I felt you would need sympathy.' He looked down into her moisture-laden eyes and his hands on her arms seemed to tighten. 'The legal aspect came into it and it seemed to me that he was threatening you.'
It was some moments before Laura could speak, and when she did her voice caught and stopped several times. 'I did mention---to you about the legal aspect---if ---if you remember?' Paul nodded and she continued immediately, 'Phil seems to think I shall be in serious trouble for keeping her. You see, she ought to have been handed over to the authorities at once, but Mother wouldn't let her go.'
'I heard your reply. You yourself don't seem to fear the authorities?' A question in his voice and in his eyes. Before she could answer he had bent his head and his lips met hers again, this time not quite so gently; but although she sensed the passion in the kiss, she had neither the physical nor the mental energy to resent it and break away from his hold.
'I feel I'd be treated with leniency because, after all, I meant it for the best---the best for the child, that is.'
'And in any case, it was your mother who originally committed the offence.'
She nodded but said after a moment's consideration 'Nevertheless, it was I who later did wrong by not informing the authorities of what had occurred. I just took Mandy when Mother died, as I told you, and I had every intention of keeping her. But since then I've been troubled about her birth certificate, which I shall need as soon as she starts school six months from now. I can't get that without leaving myself open to censure, and perhaps prosecution.'
Paul was shaking his head even before she had finished speaking. 'I cannot see any authority prosecuting you when all you've done is good. Do you not realise, my dear, that there isn't a woman in a million who would accept the responsibility for a child who wasn't her own, especially a woman as young as you? You've had to work for the child; you've given her a wonderful home, and you've given her love. Anyone who sees you together would be in no doubt about the love she has for you, either. She'd never have had that kind of love from your sister, would she?'
Laura was silent, pondering all he had been saying. And at last she shook her head. 'I oughtn't even to have considered handing her over to her father,' she said, 'not when he was living with Irene, because, as you say, she could never have given Mandy love.' Irene's action had proved that she did not even care anything for her own children, mused Laura, wondering how her sister had come to agree to have children in the first place. For she had always seemed anxious to retain her freedom, and her youth. 'I've been selfish,' admitted Laura, looking at Paul through shadowed eyes. 'I was willing to hand over Mandy to her father just to ensure my own happiness with Phil.'
'Don't blame yourself, Laura.' Paul's quiet, faintly accented voice was plainly meant to soothe. 'In the light of your need, it was the most natural move for you to make.'
'When I arrived here,' she murmured thoughtfully, bypassing his comment, 'and found that Joseph already had two children on his hands I should have decided there and then to go back home, for as we've said, it isn't feasible that he'll take Mandy as well---even if I were able to find him.'
'Nevertheless, it would have been as well if you had been able to find him, because, if you intend to keep Mandy, then you must legalise the position. You must adopt her.' Paul's eyes were focused intently upon her; she read his thoughts accurately. He was sufficiently well informed to be sure that, in her country, no single woman could adopt a child.
'Tell me,' he said, still fixing her eyes with his, 'what were your original intentions---before you met this Phil, I mean?'
'I don't really know,' she confessed. 'It was one of those situations where, because all is running smoothly, you have no wish to look around for possible sources of trouble. Oh, I knew, in a vague sort of way, that as soon as Mandy started school I'd be required to produce her birth certificate, but, somehow, I found myself living from day to day and---well, not crossing my bridges before I came to them.'
Faintly he smiled; she could not miss the hint of mocking amusement there, nor the faintly contemptuous expression in his eyes. 'Just like a woman,' he scoffed. 'Didn't you mind living on the edge of a precipice, then?'
'I never thought of it that way.' Colour had mounted into her cheeks at his manner, and the way he was looking at her. 'As I've just said, all was running smoothly; both Mandy and I were happy until--- until...'
She broke off and Paul finished for her, 'Until this man came upon the scene.'
'Even then it was the same---or even better, because he took to Mandy instantly and she to him. We were like a family, going about together...' Again she broke off, tears tight and hurtful locked in a cloud behind her eyes. 'It was---was when he asked me to marry him that the whole thing took on this different light. It became an upheaval in my life which I'd never contemplated because, since Phil was so fond of Mandy, I took it for granted that he'd not only want her to stay but that he'd be a wonderful father to her.'
'You'd begun by this time to think of adoption?'
She nodded her head. 'It would have been the only way.'
'Did you not know that adoption in your country is impossible without the consent of the parents?'
She bit her lip, fully aware that all along she had been subconsciously shirking what in the end must inevitably catch up with her. She said, murmuring her thoughts aloud, 'While she was small there was no urgency---'
'And so you left it like that.'
'I've already said I lived from day to day.'
Paul sighed and shook his head. 'Even if you go home you're going to be in a mess within the next few months; you do realise that?'
'Yes, I do---but even if they won't let me adopt Mandy they'll surely let me keep her. I could be her foster-mother.'
'Authorities have a way of doing things which in their opinion are correct. It's my belief that Mandy will be taken from you unless you can find her father and get him to discuss other possibilities with you. But certainly you will never be allowed, as a single woman, to adopt her. That is,' he added after a slight pause, 'unless the law in your country had recently been changed.'
She shook her head. 'It hasn't, to my knowledge.'
'Also, the child might still have a mother,' Paul reminded her. 'The suicide note could have meant nothing. It could have been written by a woman who was distraught at the time and perhaps did contemplate suicide, but it's doubtful if she would have carried out the threat once she had relieved her situation by discarding her child.'
'Somehow, the mother never seemed to come into the picture after those first few days when Mother and I felt so sorry for her.' She paused in thought, her wide brow creased in a frown. 'Nor for that matter did the father. It was a case of "he was gone and that was that" as far as Mother was concerned. She loved Mandy from the start, and Mandy fitted into her home so well that she could almost have been Mother's own grandchild--- in fact, I truly believe that was how she regarded Mandy.' Laura was remembering the reaction of the neighbours when her mother said she was fostering the baby. She must be out of her mind, taking a baby at her age! It would not last long, predicted one or two, while others even went as far as to say she Would be fed up with the child in a week. However, it was only a nine days' wonder and very soon people became used to seeing Mrs. Hudson pushing the pram to the shops, or, on sunny afternoons, taking the baby into the park.
'What are you thinking about?' Paul's softly spoken enquiry brought her back to the present and to the pressing anxiety on her mind.
'I was thinking about Mother.' She changed the subject abruptly. 'I must go home, Paul. Can you arrange a flight for me earlier than I had planned?'
A frown touched his brow. 'I advised you to stay here,' he reminded her. 'Try to think about this situation from all angles---'
'What angles?' she broke in desperately. 'The best thing I can do is go home, get in touch with the authorities---or the police---immediately and get the whole thing sorted out.'
'And if they take Mandy into care?' So soft the tone and her eyes flew to his, for there was something in the way he spoke which betrayed a strange unfathomable undercurrent which, for no reason she could explain, sparked off the recollection of the uneasiness she had felt on several occasions.
'She'd be heartbroken!'
'You'd both be heartbroken.' The statement seemed brutal, she thought. 'If you stay here she will be safe...'
'I can't stay here indefinitely!'
'Why can't you stay here indefinitely?'
'Why... ?' Laura could only stare at him in bewilderment for fully half a minute. 'I have my job for one thing, and my home. I have Phil---'
'I think you can leave him out of it,' broke in Paul and to her consternation Laura burst into tears.
'All r-right,' she cried, 'I can leave him out of it! But your suggestion's crazy! I can't understand why you made it! I couldn't possibly stay here indefinitely!' she repeated, searching for a handkerchief to dry her eyes.
'You could stay here if you married me, Laura,' he said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her.
Automatically she took it from him, staring dazedly, sure she was in such an anguished state of mind that she was hearing things which had never been spoken.
But before she could utter a word Paul was saying, as he drew her towards him, 'I'm in deadly earnest, Laura. I've just asked you to marry me. It will solve many problems both for you and Mandy. We can say, when we take her to school, that her father used to work for me but at present cannot be found. Her birth certificate will be produced just as soon as it is possible. I am well known and respected here so there'll be no trouble at all. When we find Joseph I shall offer to adopt Mandy, and I'm sure he'll be only too glad to hand over the responsibility to me.'
Laura was dumb, her mind unable to assimilate all he was saying. She stared up at him through a mist of tears, and very gently he took back his handkerchief and began to dry her eyes. She closed them tightly, swallowing convulsively, and yet vitally conscious of the comfort of his arm about her shoulders, his touch now and then as he continued to dry her eyes and then her cheeks.
'I can't marry you,' she whispered, shaking her head. 'I know that there's a good deal of sense in what you've said, but one thing you've forgotten, Paul...' She looked up now, her mouth moving wordlessly, for she was filled with misery and it was choking her. Phil's face had risen to superimpose itself on Paul's aristocratic features, and the love she felt for him seemed to well up within her to overflowing point. 'I love someone else,' she managed at last. 'I---I w-want to go home to Phil.'
'After what went on just now on the phone?' There was a harsh ring to Paul's voice which hurt, and she was readily owning to the need for his kindness and sympathy.
'He was angry because of failure on my part, but if you knew him you'd understand that he's not really as hard and adamant as it seemed when you were listening to our conversation.'
Paul's eyes flickered and for a long moment he was silent. 'Do you honestly believe he'll be willing to adopt Mandy?' he queried at last and again there was silence between them. 'Well, Laura?' he prompted eventually. 'Aren't you going to answer me?'
She drew her tongue over lips that had gone suddenly stiff and dry. 'No,' she replied and tears again filled her eyes. 'No, he won't be willing to adopt Mandy.'
'In that case you have very little choice---'
'Why do you want to marry me?' she asked, for now it really had registered that he was very serious in his proposal. 'You don't even know me. I can't understand...' She trailed away, shaking her head and looking up at him in utter bewilderment. He dabbed at a tear that had fallen before putting the handkerchief into his pocket. Then both hands were on her shoulders and his eyes were looking deeply into hers.
'Obviously you are unable to understand,' he said, and it did seem that he himself was faintly puzzled as to how he must answer her. 'I will be honest with you, Laura. You appeal to me---'
'Physically?' she broke in as she suddenly remembered what she had heard about Greek men.
'Not entirely,' he answered, surprising her. 'The moment I saw you I felt something I've never felt before. I want you for a friend as well as a lover. I am convinced we'll be happy together... one day when you've forgotten all about this other man.'
Laura was shaking her head. 'You don't know me,' she said again. 'It isn't sensible to marry someone who's a complete stranger to you.'
He smiled faintly. 'In Greece strangers often marry, because marriages are still arranged in villages and remote islands. A man sees a girl, likes what he sees, then approaches her parents and asks if he can marry her. She might not even have been aware that this young man had noticed her---he could have done so when passing her house, perhaps on several occasions. If the parents agree, then the couple meet at the engagement party. They are usually married very shortly afterwards.'
'It's a barbaric custom!'
'We weren't discussing the customs of my country,' he said quietly. 'We were talking of marriage between you and me. You said we can't marry because we're strangers. I have merely pointed out that strangers do often marry.'
'The whole thing's totally illogical.' Laura drew away, then found she was missing the comfort, the strength of his hands.
'On the contrary, it is the most sensible course for you to take. If you return to England you will have the problems you've spoken of, because you can't legally adopt the child. Not merely because you're single but because you haven't the consent of the father---and the mother if she's still alive.'
'She'd have to be found.'
'Another problem for you to tackle.'
She looked at him straightly, and although she admitted that he was offering her the easiest way out possible, and that if she refused him she would find herself in about as bad a situation as it was possible to be, she said firmly, aware from his expression that he already knew what she was going to say, 'I won't marry you, Paul. Desperate as my plight is, I shan't marry a man I don't love.'
'You mention your plight. What about Mandy's?'
'Something will turn up---'
'Who are you trying to convince, yourself, or me?' One straight eyebrow was lifted in a sort of challenge that was reflected in the piercing blue of his stare.
'I shall never marry you,' she stated emphatically, 'so save your breath. No amount of persuasion will make me change my mind.'
But even in the midst of this firm resolve, Laura became aware of yet another problem, that of finding a replacement for Teresa until the girl was well enough to resume her duties. Undoubtedly Teresa was a treasure, completely trustworthy, taking on tasks which weren't obligatory---like making some of Mandy's clothes, and coming back if asked to baby-sit at night if Phil and Laura were going out to dine or dance.
Well, the problem of a replacement might be difficult but it wasn't impossible. There were au pair girls to be had. But how would Mandy react to a new face, a stranger looking after her? True, she was at play school during the mornings, but there were also the long afternoon hours---for often it was after seven when Laura arrived home---though, in the main, it was earlier, around six o'clock. A deep sigh escaped Laura, but she looked away swiftly, convinced that if Paul managed to get this further problem out of her he'd exploit it in some way.
Why, Laura asked herself over and over again, did Paul want to marry her? He had denied her suggestion that physical desire was the prime factor and she believed him. He was attracted to her for other reasons, he had said, and again she believed him. She knew he had watched her with Mandy and was impressed by the love and care she gave her, so perhaps his starting point had been her suitability as a mother for his children. Somehow, though, she found it hard to accept this, and for several reasons. Firstly, there was his gentleness in her distress, which seemed to prove that it was her and her alone about whom he was primarily concerned, this even though he was at the same time quite clearly concerned about Mandy. Secondly, she could not believe that Paul would marry her---or any woman for that matter---merely because she would make a good mother. Laura's puzzlement grew until it became al-most impossible to put it out of her mind, as she so fervently wanted to do.
'Why aren't you coming into the pool with us?' It was Paul's attractively accented voice which brought her back to her surroundings and to the realisation that Mandy was surely having the best time of her short life. For it was Paul who seemed to be the one who was looking after her, the one she ran to if she had anything to tell, or to cry about---as for example yesterday, when she fell into a bush while chasing a butterfly, and cut her lip on a thorn. Laura had been there, quietly sitting on the patio---just as she was at this present moment--- overwhelmed by problems, and thinking about Irene; but it was to Paul that Mandy had gone.
Was he deliberately making himself important to the child? The question came naturally, owing to the attitude of the man who was so keen on marrying her. He had not given up; he was charm itself and had several times pointedly broached the subject of Mandy's unpredictable future if Laura insisted on taking her back to England. Her father was here in Greece, and therefore, it was logical that Laura should make some attempt to find him and let him know he had a daughter.
Listening to him, but with one part of her brain inevitably on her sister and the probable danger she was in, Laura found her mind becoming more and more confused, her resolve to go home wavering one moment yet strengthening the next. There was Phil, and her relationship with him, for she just could not visualise saying a final goodbye when they had been so happy together. Yet she knew for sure that he'd never take Mandy. There was her job---true, she had three weeks vacation and so could, if she wished, stay here for another fortnight. But she had told her employer she would be away for one week only. She had wanted the other two weeks for her honeymoon...
'Laura, are you coming in the pool?' The finely timbred voice again, but this time edged with anxiety. 'What is it?' he asked gently.
'I'll come in if you want me to.' She wished he wouldn't be kind and concerned like this. It made her want to cry on his shoulder.
'I asked what's wrong.'
'The usual heart searching,' she confessed, knowing he had probably guessed anyway.
'The remedy's simple, and it's in your own hands.' He paused but she looked away, not answering him. 'You're stubborn, Laura,' he said and his voice was crisp.
She turned, her eyes naturally going to the pool to see if Mandy was all right. She was sitting on the side, toes in the water and sunlight in her hair, lips pursed as if she were humming to herself. A water nymph, thought Laura and a tender smile caught her mouth. Her eyes returned to settle for a fleeting space on the man standing there, his bronzed body straight and aristocratic, the hairs on chest and legs glistening as globules of water reflected light from the sun. Laura's glance flicked his face to catch an unfathomable expression before the muscles relaxed.
'You say I'm stubborn. I say I'm sensible. Marriage without love can never work.' Her eyes flitted again to the child by the pool. 'I'll come in if you want me to,' she said again and saw his frown at her changing of the subject.
He regarded her for a long moment, a twisted smile hovering on his lips. Then he said guardedly, 'I'm sure Mandy will want you to. Go and change. The pool's just right, temperature-wise.'
Laura looked at him as she rose from the lounger on which she was sitting. A man of superlative attractions, both in looks and physique, she thought, and without warning she found herself experiencing once again those emotions awakened by this man, which had made her blush. She hoped she was not blushing now but very much feared she was, since her cheeks felt as if they were burning. She was remembering his kisses, the first one gentle, the second rather more passionate, and a little possessive, she now recollected, and a frown touched her brow. At the time it seemed natural for him to kiss her, as it formed part of the comfort craved and given; now, however, Laura was ashamedly aware of her disloyalty to the man she loved. She ought not to have allowed Paul to kiss her. A baffling sensation of weightiness settled upon her as she thought: many women would be thrilled and flattered by the interest of this man with the startlingly blue eyes and the Nordic characteristics, but she wanted only to have and hold the interest of Phil, the man for whom, even at this great distance, her heart could beat wildly.
Paul was speaking again, telling her to wear the green bikini as it was prettier than the swimsuit she wore yesterday. His voice was low-toned and authoritative as he added, 'Don't be too long or it'll be time for Mandy to come out.'
Once in her bedroom Laura wondered whether to obey the request---or was it a command?---for her to wear the green bikini. The blue swimsuit was far less revealing. However, she decided to wear the bikini, but donned a beach wrap of light, velvet-soft towelling in white with a fine edging of gold cord round the collar and sleeves.
Amusement gleamed momentarily in his eyes when she came to the side of the pool, but he made no comment. She stood for a long moment, reluctant to take off the wrap.
'Come on; be quick!' shouted Mandy, who was holding on to a bar at the side and letting her body float. 'It's warm and beautiful and I can nearly swim!' The chubby face was all smiles, the big eyes alight with laughter. 'Uncle Paul said it won't be long now until I can float!'
'You're certainly doing very well.' A smile for the child, but Laura's heart was heavy. Their flight was booked for Thursday, but she felt most reluctant to take Mandy home so soon. She was so happy... so innocent of the trouble she was causing, mused Laura, who, having caught Paul's eye, took off the wrap and dived into the water.
Dinner was over and they were on the patio drinking coffee when Paul said unexpectedly, 'Have you come to any decision about continuing your search for Joseph?'
She shot him a glance, recalling her previous impression that Paul was in no hurry for her to find Mandy's father. Now, however, she had an idea he wasn't of the same mind as before. But why?
The answer came without any effort on her part. He was convinced that Joseph would refuse to have the child, and therefore, Laura's position would remain as it was at present. Did this mean, then, that he wanted her to be troubled, to have the terrible weight of these burdens on her mind? She shook her head mentally.
No, all he wanted was for her to stay here and marry him. 'I don't think it's possible for me to find him since I have no idea where to begin, and in addition, I haven't much time.' There was no response to that, but as she watched his face in the subtle, muted glow from the amber lamp hidden in the vine cover above their heads, she could not miss the swift compression of his lips at her reference to the shortage of time at her disposal. She hoped the involuntary gesture meant that he was resigned to her leaving on the flight she had booked.
But did she really want to leave? The question did not startle her simply because she was again seeing Mandy, so happy and in her childish contentment not even thinking of the end of the holiday, of the moment when she would board the plane for home. Also, Laura was dejectedly conscious of all the other problems facing her once she arrived home. Phil would call, and be angry at her failure, especially when he realised that Laura's attitude was as firmly set as his own, and that, come what may, she would fight tooth and nail to keep the child in her care. Then there was the task of finding another nanny, the anxiety over her sister's whereabouts and the danger she could be in. Laura recalled, though, that Paul had said Irene was safe so long as her whereabouts remained unknown to those who were seeking revenge, and for this reason it would seem to be wiser to abandon any idea of trying to discover where Irene and her lover had gone to.
Laura looked at Paul, wondering why he had not commented on what she had said. He seemed to be lost in thought but she knew his eyes, through those thick, fair lashes, were fixed upon her face. The silence hung heavily for a long time with neither appearing ready to break it. From the olive trees came the whirr of cicadas and the occasional croaking of frogs. Then an eerie stillness settled over the gardens and the orchard of citrus fruits and figs and pomegranates; it stretched to the valley where the vineyards were shapeless in the shadows cast by an enormous moon piercing a thin cloud cover, vineyards climbing up the valley sides in faultless, well-tended terraces. The night sounds came again---the frogs and cicadas and, from afar, folk music being played on a Cretan lyre and lute. An owl called and Laura could well imagine some timid creature hastening for cover.
Paul spoke at last, to say very quietly, 'Why don't you marry me, Laura?'
Strangely, she had half expected the question to come tonight. Nevertheless, she wasn't ready for it and it was some time before she responded, 'I wish you would forget all about it, Paul.'
'You haven't answered my question.' Paul's voice was crisp.
'I don't understand why you want to marry me, knowing I can never love you.' She was looking at him but with a perfunctory stare and so she could not accept that he had actually flinched at her statement. And yet... Nerves fluttered; she felt dazed without being able to put her finger on the cause. She heard herself say, in slow, bewildered tones, 'Why do you want to marry me, Paul? There must be a reason---a very good one.'
The blue eyes met hers and in their depths she saw hesitation, uncertainty, and then he shook his head in an almost imperceptible movement, and his voice lacked expression as he replied, 'I believe I've already given you the reason, Laura. You have something I have never before found in a woman---'
'You've had many women?' She had no idea why she was asking this, since it could not be of any interest to her whatsoever.
'Depends what you mean by many. I've had a few, like any other man. I'm human...' He broke off, pausing a moment. 'Just as you are human, Laura. We have certain needs, not least of which is the physical one, but that is not the paramount essential for compatibility in marriage. So many other things are important... But you must know this without my telling you.' So serious his tone and the way his words were delivered. Laura felt a strange and inexplicable choking sensation and with it came the desire to go to him, to lay her head against his breast and stay there, quietly, while she allowed her mind to become blank, to drift right to the borders of oblivion.
'You're a strange man, Paul,' was all she could find to say when at length she was forced to break the tense, prolonged interlude of silence which had fallen between them.
'Is it strange to ask a woman to marry me?' Faintly he smiled, as if he were amused in some small way.
'It is if you don't know the woman.'
'I feel I know you very well,' he declared. 'I've watched you. I've talked to you and I've advised you. Time, my dear, is unimportant in the face of what is happening to us.'
'Us?' She shook her head in bewilderment. 'To me, you mean, surely?'
'Perhaps mainly to you, but it's affecting me as well.' He paused but she found nothing to say. 'Think about it, my dear, and promise not to make any hasty decisions.'
My dear... Twice he had said it, and although she ought to dismiss it as unimportant, a mere figure of speech he could have used to anyone, Laura was unable to do so. The two words rang softly in her ears, and she knew again the urge to lay her head against his breast. It was all wrong! She loved another man, loved him to distraction, and so it must be wrong to allow herself to be affected like this!
'I think I must go to bed,' she said, fully aware that fear was the spur for this resolve to go from him, for he had travelled too fast for her right from the very beginning. She felt strongly that he would in the end influence her, guide her along a road she never wanted to take. 'I'm---I'm very tired.'
'Escaping?' Brief the enquiry as his eyes locked with hers.
'N-no... er... what an odd thing to---to say...' Her voice faltered to a stop as, rising from his chair, Paul took hold of her wrist and brought her to her feet. His fingers moved; she tensed at their warmth, their intimacy. 'Paul, this is absurd. There can be nothing between us; please accept that.' Her voice was surprisingly calm now as, using her other hand, she attempted to free her wrist.
'I'm going to kiss you,' he told her softly. And even as she began to twist her face away it was caught in a grip that was as firm as it was gentle, and the next moment she felt his cool breath on her face a second before his lips took hers in a kiss that took the breath from her body and caused her to push with desperation against his chest. But she was helpless; he took his fill, his mouth caressing moistly, his strong yet supple frame pressed close to her slender young body. She felt small and helpless, but she felt protected too, and against all her inclinations she lifted her arms to put them around his neck. She pressed closer still, while her fingers spread into his fair, wiry hair and then down again to caress his nape before moving slowly to touch his cheeks. He was towering above her, staring down into her lovely face, his own features quite unmoving. She was shy, and ashamed; she knew she wanted to protest, to remind him of her love for Phil... and instead she went up on tiptoe and offered him her lips.
'You're very lovely,' he murmured and his voice was noticeably hoarse. 'I want you, Laura.' His lips, moist and demanding, caressed in sensual exploration, forcing her own apart and she knew a spasm of ecstasy at the roughness of his tongue on hers. She tried to think, to censure herself, but instead she was drawing a veil over everything but this moment, losing herself in a sensuous world of pleasure and of comfort. Yes, in spite of Paul's increasing passion he was giving her the comfort she craved, easing the burden which her problems had been laying upon her. 'Marry me, dear. I know we can be happy.'
Somehow, this brought Laura from the trancelike state which had held her in its grip, and she leant away, colour flowing into her cheeks, her thoughts disoriented, but yet she was hearing so clearly one word he had spoken: dear. Did he love her? It seemed impossible that it could have happened so swiftly, and yet hadn't it been proved that such a thing as love at first sight was possible? She looked up at him through her lashes, wishing she could read his expression. She felt instinctively that he was aware of her vulnerability at this crucial time in her life, and the chill of apprehension spread through her whole body. She must get away before he persuaded her to make the biggest mistake of her life.
'I want to go to bed,' she murmured, pulling right away, out of his reach. 'Good night, Paul.' Her voice was low and---although she did not know it---pleading.
Paul sighed, and his lips formed slowly into a twisted smile. 'You're afraid,' he stated. 'And fear is so difficult to combat. Yes, go to bed, Laura, but do as I advised-take care not to make any hasty decisions. Consider carefully the problems you'll be faced with if you return to England; weigh the advantages of marriage to me against remaining on your own, with no one to fight your battles for you.' He stopped but she was in some way too full to answer him, and in any case, what was there to say? Everything he had put forward was logical, and beneficial both to her and to the child whose future was so precarious. Mandy, the lovable child who could be taken from her and put into care. The more she pondered it the more likely it seemed that the child would be taken from her, simply because she was in full employment and away from home all day, leaving the child in the care of a nanny. Others did just that, of course, but they were real parents and in a position to please themselves.
'I'll do as you say,' she said unhappily at last. 'But you must accept that I could never love you, never as long as I live.' Her heart and thoughts had sped swiftly to Phil, with whom she had been so happy. He was the man she loved, and even though his love was not as strong as she would have wished, she could not love him less because of it. 'Yes, I'll do as you say,' she repeated, 'and think seriously about your proposal. She moved and he made no attempt to stop her. She turned on entering the room behind the patio, and stood for a space on the threshold, her face pale, her heart empty of all emotion, but there was a degree of calmness about her which gave a steadiness and a strength to her words. 'You, too, must consider carefully, Paul; try to imagine what your life would be like with a woman who can never give you love, or even give you deep affection. Oh, I know that Greeks mainly scoff at love, and are satisfied with what they term "a good wife," but it takes so much more to make up the whole essence of marriage.' She stopped, and waited.
Paul stood erect, detached and apparently cool, his direct stare unreadable, and yet it confused and disconcerted her, bringing unwanted colour to her face. She was aware of an overwhelming desire for him to speak, to try again to assure her that a marriage between them could succeed...
But he remained silent and presently she turned and passed through the room, her feet dragging, her mind becoming numbed as if the effort of keeping it active was too much for her.
Once in her room she stood broodingly at the window, staring unseeingly into the garden. What had she said out there on the patio? What had she promised? To consider Paul's proposal?
The idea of marriage just to lift the weight of present problems from her shoulders was crazy! It would be a manifestation of sheer weakness of character, and it would bring the heartache she deserved. She shut her eyes tightly as if the action would protect her against her own treacherous thoughts. And when at last she opened them again her decision was made.
Phil was angry, as Laura knew he would be. She had tried not to cry, or to plead, but her love drove her to the kind of humility she would at one time never have believed possible. Short of going down on her knees, she had done everything in her power to soften him, to make him change his mind about Mandy.
'She's not even a relative!' he had said wrathfully over and over again. 'Had she been your sister's own child, and had Irene died or otherwise not been able to look after her, then things might have been different. As it is'---he made a furious, expressive gesture with his hands---'I am not intending to take on the responsibility for a child who has no ties even with the woman I marry!'
'She has the ties of love,' returned Laura simply.
'You talk nonsense!'
'Have you no feelings, Phil?'
'I have feelings for you, Laura. I love you dearly, and I know for sure that if you agree to place Mandy into care then you and I can look forward to a happy life together.' He had become serious, less hostile, and the angry colour was fading from his face.
She looked at him across the elegant room on which she had spent so much thought and time and care, to say nothing of the expense. A delightful apartment, furnished in the exquisite taste which had been the chief factor in assuring its owner's success with the clients who engaged the firm of Douglas Hendrick to plan and execute their needs. Laura was exceptionally gifted in the art of interior decoration, it had been repeatedly declared by those to whom she had given her services. She glanced around with excusable pride, and thought of Phil's firm refusal to live here if they married.
'You're not listening to me,' from Phil with an edge of impatience. 'I've just said I love you, and that we can be happy if only you'll see sense and part with Mandy.'
She looked at him, then took a sip of her martini. She thought of Mandy, safe in bed in her pretty room... safe and secure and sleeping peacefully because she was loved and cherished, because she loved in return.
'I can't give her up.' Laura turned to refill her glass. 'I know you've said it isn't logical for me to sacrifice my life for a child who is not even related to me, but Phil, there are times in one's life when one's own welfare, one's own wishes and desires could produce a selfishness of which that person would not only be ashamed eventually---but which would be a blot on the conscience which could never ever be erased.' She had topped up her glass and she swung around, the light from the standard lamp sending a soft rose glow which lent added richness to the pure gold of her hair, tinting it, making it gleam more brightly than ever. 'If you are determined, Phil, then... then it's the... the parting of the ways for... for us.' She choked over the words but valiantly managed to suppress the tears bitter tears as yet locked within a cloud behind her eyes They would fall later, in abundance, and yet give her no relief, no comfort...
Her thoughts were suddenly with Paul, who had been so gentle with her, and patient for most of the time, patient because he was understanding. Paul had given her comfort... Paul could give her comfort again if she chose to let him. He had been angry, of course, at her decision, but in some inexplicable way she had known again that uneasiness, because it was as if, despite her unshakable decision to come home, Paul would win in the end.
'That's your last word?' Phil's voice was hard.
'It has to be,' she answered. 'I have no other choice which would leave me with a clear conscience.'
He strode about the room in the kind of wild fury she had not believed he could exhibit---not Phil, who was so calm and collected, who had a logical mind and could be counted on to find the smoothest way out of any difficulty. Well, he was not inclined to find the smooth way out of the present difficulty; he was willing to forego his own happiness and hers by adhering to his first and only decision regarding Mandy.
'If only that blasted woman hadn't left the child on your mother's doorstep! Why did it have to happen to you of all people? And why were you in a position to take her when your mother died?' He sank onto the sofa again. 'Why, I said! Why---?'
'Phil,' broke in Laura gently, 'we've been into all this, and to bring it up again is unprofitable. I did have the means so I was in a position to take Mandy. I have never regretted it---'
'Never? You don't regret it now, when your whole future's ruined?'
Silence. She had not expected this kind of pompous talk from Phil, who had obviously concluded that by losing him her life was blighted forever. Well, perhaps it was, since she could never love anyone else, but she had not thought he would make such a blatant declaration which so starkly revealed his opinion of himself and his importance to her happiness.
'No,' she answered after a long while, 'I do not regret it even now. I am doing what I believe is right and honourable. I shall fight to keep Mandy with me.' A strange calm flooded over her; she sat down opposite to where he was, on the sofa, his eyes brooding, his clenched hand resting on the wide, velvet-covered arm, his legs crossed. 'There isn't any reason for you to stay any longer,' she reminded him eventually. 'It's goodbye, Phil.'
He rose from the couch, draining his glass in a gulp which Laura felt sure resulted in a burning sensation in his throat, for he was drinking brandy neat. 'You seem very confident that you'll be allowed to keep the child,' he said, his eyes studying her closely.
She hoped she gave nothing away as she replied, 'I am confident, Phil. I shall ask to be her foster-mother, and I feel sure that I can convince them that Mandy will always have as good a home as she has now.'
Phil's face was set like a mask. 'I wonder,' he said thoughtfully, 'if you really are confident. Single women are not considered suitable for the permanent care of a child---and you know it!'
'I am not crossing my bridges yet,' she told him quietly. There was a way out if all else failed, but Laura had no intention of mentioning it to Phil. He had asked about the man in whose house she and Mandy had been staying, and seemed faintly angry, as if he resented her decision to leave the hotel. But he had not pursued the matter, not when other, more important things were having to be discussed.
'All I can say is, Laura, you'll live to regret the decision you're making,' Phil said evenly.
'I shall have only myself to blame.'
'What have you to look forward to? Years of minding a child who in the end might not be grateful.'
She looked up at him, wishing she wasn't seriously taking in all he was saying---but she was, and it caused a sort of fatalistic sensation to close in on her, heavily oppressive. 'Please go,' she begged. 'I'm very tired.'
'And depressed.'
'You're hard, Phil. I never realised it before.'
'I'm trying to do what is best for you.'
'Which is to persuade me to fail in my duty.'
'Duty!' he rasped. 'What duty do you owe to the child?'
'I owe a duty simply because, in the first place, I accepted her into my care.' Laura rose from her chair. 'I must ask you to leave,' she said and her voice was crisp. 'This aimless discussion---if one can call it that--- must be as unpleasant for you as it is for me. We've both made our decisions and they're final, so there's no point in hurting one another unnecessarily.'
'You're hurt?'
'Of course I'm hurt,' she answered with a hint of asperity. 'I've lost the man I love.'
It seemed for a fleeting moment that her words, her simple admission, had softened him, and hope lit a spark in her lovely, sapphire eyes. But it died instantly as his mouth went tight.
'It's your own doing, Laura. However, if it should transpire that the authorities decide to take Mandy away from you, then promise you'll let me know---get in touch immediately.'
'I rather think, Phil, that nothing could be the same between us after this.' Laura's voice was bitter, her eyes shadowed with pain.
Phil moved restlessly, as if he had something to say, but he changed his mind and with a curt, 'Goodbye, Laura,' he strode to the door and was gone.
The silence was instantly oppressive. Laura stared at the closed door, listening for the click of the latch on the outer door leading off the hall. The end... When first she had met Phil, and they had both seen almost at once that they were in love, she never dreamed it would all end like this. Tears filled her eyes, filming her lashes before escaping through them to fall slowly onto her cheeks. Rising as if urged by some compulsion, she went into Mandy's room and stood by the bed. So peacefully she slept, with one small hand beneath her cheek as it rested on the pillow. As she watched, Laura saw the full, rosy lips move as Mandy smiled in her sleep. Could Phil be right when he implied that the child might not be grateful for the sacrifice Laura was making? A frown touched her brow. She did not want gratitude; all she wanted was that Mandy would become a girl of whom she, Laura, could be proud; that was all she would ever ask... and she knew without any doubt at all that her wish would come true. Mandy would never let her down.
It was four days later that Paul telephoned. Laura's hand trembled as she listened to his voice asking how she had gone on about Mandy.
'They're undecided,' she replied guardedly, 'I feel it's touch and go.'
'And... ?' So significant the one brief word.
Laura paused a moment before answering. 'I haven't yet had time to think.'
'Time?' Again the brief enquiry had a pointed edge to it.
'The heart, then.' She felt annoyed at his perceptiveness.
'I'm in London,' he said, 'and I'm coming to see you.'
'In London!' Why were her pulses racing like this? 'You came on business?'
'I suppose you could call it that. I'm here to help you.'
'You're very kind, Paul,' she said, and meant it. Her troubles already seemed halved. 'I certainly need help.'
'You're not very optimistic about being allowed to foster Mandy?'
'No.' She shook her head, forgetting he could not see her. 'The officer from the Child Care Authority was very nasty with me, reminding me several times that I'd broken the law. I feared at one time he'd bring in the police.' Laura was unaware of the catch in her voice, or of the fear which came through so plainly to the man on the other end of the line. 'He says Mandy's parents must be found.'
'That's not surprising. You should have expected such an eventuality. The consent of the parents will be necessary whatever happens.' No comment from Laura and he continued, 'You say you've not had the heart to think, but all the same you have kept at the back of your mind the solution to your problem, haven't you?'
'Yes, Paul,' she agreed, 'I have.'
'When is it convenient for me to come and see you?'
'As it's Saturday and I'm not at work, you could come this afternoon.'
'Good. We'll get all the business over and then I'll take you out to dinner. Have you a sitter for Mandy?'
'I've a temporary girl sent from the agency. She'll not mind coming in this evening.' Laura was conscious of excitement, of anticipation. For almost a week she had been filled with anxiety and fear, but now a lightness had come over her. It was miraculous, the effect Paul could have upon her.
'The agency?' he was saying with interest and curiosity. 'What does that happen to be?'
'They call themselves "Caring Aunts",' she elucidated and was not surprised to hear him laugh. 'You can hire all sorts of people from house and dog minders to nannies and escorts for dinners or other functions.'
Paul laughed again and his humour was contagious. Laura found herself laughing for the first time since she left Greece.
She was reading to Mandy when Paul's knock was heard. Mandy was off like a shot and it was she who opened the door to him.
'Ooh, Uncle Paul! I'm so glad you've come! Are you going to stay with us? I want you to, for a very long time!'
Stooping, he swung her up, threw her into the air, caught her, and sat her on his shoulder. 'I rather think---' he said with a swift glance at Laura as he walked into the room, 'that it is you who will be staying with me... for a very long time.'
Laura dropped her eyes, her thoughts winging to Paul's reminder that she had the solution at the back of her mind. Yes, he knew she would not hesitate to marry him if, and when, the danger of losing Mandy should loom close to becoming a reality.
'Well, aren't you going to say you're glad to see me?'
She had stood up as he came in, and now that he had put Mandy down he was towering above Laura, making her feel small and rather helpless, but certainly glad he was here. 'Yes, of course,' she murmured shyly.
'Not much enthusiasm all the same.' With an unexpected gesture he had tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his keen and all-examining stare. 'You're pale,' he observed, and bending his head, he kissed her full on the lips.
'Ooh... Do you love each other?' from Mandy, whose eyes were dancing. 'I don't think Uncle Phil loves my Aunty Laura any more because he doesn't come.' She was clinging to Paul's trouser leg, tugging at it to bring his attention from Laura to herself. 'I like to be kissed sometimes as well,' she said.
'Mandy,' chided Laura, more to relieve her own embarrassment than anything else. 'Would you care to go into the kitchen and lay the tray so we can have afternoon tea?'
The big eyes flashed with mischief. 'You want to get rid of me, don't you? Uncle Phil used to say, "Can't you get rid of Mandy for a few minutes while I show you how much I love you?" and then he used to tell me to go and play in my bedroom. Do you remember. Aunty Laura?'
'Go and lay the tray, dear,' repeated Laura gently, aware of heightened colour and increased embarrassment and wondering why she had allowed Mandy to go on like that without attempting to stop her. She moved away from Paul, to the other side of the room and then turned, watching him as he looked all around, his eyes admiring and sometimes faintly surprised.
When at last he spoke it was to say, 'So this is what you do for a living. You're a very gifted young lady, my dear.'
She swallowed, hands clasped in front of her. 'What made you decide to come?' she heard herself asking a moment later.
'You didn't seem much surprised when I phoned.'
She puckered her brow thoughtfully for a space. 'No, for some inexplicable reason I wasn't too surprised when you phoned. I think I was a bit surprised that you were here, though, in London.'
'You knew that your goodbye in Crete wasn't final, I think.'
'I suppose I had in mind that I'd marry you, as a last resort,' she admitted, stopping rather abruptly as the full impact of what she had said hit her.
Paul's smile was twisted. 'You're honest about it, and for that I admire you.'
'I wouldn't gain anything by pretence. You know I can never care for you, but you know also that I might be driven to marrying you. It would merely be a marriage of convenience, wouldn't it?'
The blue eyes opened very wide. 'Convenience?' with a slant of his eyebrow. 'What exactly do you mean by that?' he wanted to know.
Confusion spread over her because of the question and because of the look of satirical mockery in his eyes. 'I didn't mean... I was merely saying...' She stopped, took a breath and began again, lowering her eyes against his disconcerting stare. 'On my side it would be for convenience that I'm marrying you---if I marry you. But I suppose for your part you'll expect... expect me to... to be a proper wife.'
'You suppose correctly, my dear.' Paul's voice was suddenly terse. 'So long as we understand one another there'll not be any complications later on, will there?'
'No,' she managed in low and choking accents, 'there won't be any complications.'
'You asked what made me come...' He stopped to look down at Mandy, who had come back into the room from the kitchen.
'Do you want the best cups and saucers, Aunty Laura?' she asked.
'Yes, please, Mandy.'
'And jam and butter to go with the scones?'
Laura nodded, smiling. 'And you'll find the cream in the fridge.'
'Okay,' cheerfully as Mandy danced from the room again.
'I came,' continued Paul in that attractive, alien voice, which seemed rather more accented today, 'because, when you'd left, I decided to find Joseph and see how he felt about his child being adopted.' Paul moved over to the window and stood for a moment looking down into the Mews before swinging round to face Laura. He was thoughtful, she noticed as she waited for him to resume. 'I naturally began with a visit to his villa to see if I could gain any clue as to where he might be.
There were some papers which had been screwed up and thrown into the fireplace, and among them was one from his sister.'
'He has a sister?' Laura had no idea why she put the question, unless it was from a sense of fear that this woman might make an offer to have Mandy.
'Yes, he has, and as her address and telephone number were there, printed on the top of the paper, I immediately phoned. Joseph was staying with her.'
'He---! So he's in England? I suppose his sister does live in England?'
'In Putney.'
'That's not far away.' Laura was frowning as she spoke. 'To think, I went off to Greece and he was probably already back in England.'
'Fate. You were destined to meet me.'
She thought he was in a teasing mood until she looked up and saw how serious his expression was. 'Have you seen Joseph?'
'Yes.' A small pause and then, 'He was interested in the fact that his daughter had been left on someone's doorstep, but not in the least interested in accepting her. He had enough on his hands, he said, with the two he already had. I must admit I felt sorry for him.' Paul shook his head and a frown darkened his brow. 'That sister of yours wants horsewhipping.'
Laura bypassed that and asked instead if Joseph was willing for his child to be fostered out.
'He seemed rather to favour adoption.' Paul's blue eyes seemed deliberately to avoid hers.
'You mentioned adoption?' Laura felt sure he had not mentioned fostering.
'Naturally. We were discussing the child's future.'
'Before she can be adopted her mother must be---'
'Her mother won't be found,' interrupted Paul rather gently. 'She died over a year ago.'
'Died?' Laura stared somewhat uncomprehendingly. 'So she didn't commit suicide at the time she left Mandy?'
'She died a natural death---at least, she didn't take her own life. Joseph's sister had come by the news quite by accident some months ago. Joseph was informed by letter, but he didn't tell Irene.' Paul looked down into Laura's face as if to note her reaction.
She said, shaking her head bewilderedly, 'You mean ---he didn't want to marry my sister?'
'It seems obvious that he didn't.'
'But, the children. Didn't he care that they were illegitimate?'
'If you want my opinion, Laura, I believe he meant to desert Irene, leaving the children with her.'
'He---!' Laura stared, appalled. 'You're saying he didn't love her, that he meant to treat her in the same contemptible way he treated his wife?'
'I could be wrong, but I'm fairly sure I'm not.'
'The... rotter! He's not fit to have Mandy! Or the other two poor little children,' she thought to add. Anger had coloured her face, given a sparkle to her eyes. Paul moved a little restlessly and there was an unfathomable expression on his face. 'And you, Paul, have just said you're sorry for him!'
'In a way I am, Laura. He's all mixed up, confused as to where he is going and what he must do. It's his own fault, admittedly, because he's made one mistake after another. He ought never to have married Mandy's mother, but having done so, he should have abided by it---'
'What makes you say he should never have married Mandy's mother?' Laura broke in to ask.
'He obviously wasn't in love with her.'
'At first he was... must have been.'
'My dear Laura, love doesn't die as quickly as that. They were only married for seven months.'
'Seven months?' Laura gaped at him. 'Is that all? How do you know?'
'I've been talking to him, and his sister,' Paul reminded her. 'As I was saying, he kept on making mistakes. He went off with Irene just to escape, to shirk his responsibilities. A man who does things like that is not in his right mind. He can't think straight.'
'And so you don't blame him?' Laura's eyes flashed indignation.
'I didn't say so,' argued Paul. 'I merely said I felt sorry for the man because obviously he's never going to find happiness, or even peace of mind. However, you and I are interested in our own future and that of Mandy, not his. He's agreeable for me to adopt her if you and I marry.'
Something tingling along her nerves caused Laura to ask, 'You and he have already arranged everything, haven't you?'
'We certainly had a discussion and agreed that Mandy would benefit by adoption rather than her being fostered.' Again Paul seemed reluctant to meet her gaze.
'Did you tell Joseph that I wanted to foster her?' persisted Laura.
'How could I, when I'd given him to understand you and I were to be married?'
'I see...'
'What do you see?'
'I see that I have no alternative other than to marry you. You could very easily have persuaded him to agree to my fostering her because you've admitted he isn't in the least interested in her welfare.'
'Laura, my dear...' Paul came close, took her hand and pulled her towards him. 'Do you honestly believe you'd have been happy with that sort of responsibility on your shoulders for every minute of every day? Have you thought what would happen if you were ill and could not work? And what of the child herself... is it fair for her to be alone, with just you for company? She needs children to play with. She will be the happier, soon, for having a baby brother or sister to love and pamper.' So serious his voice, and sincere.
Laura felt tears pricking her lids and lifted a quivering hand to rub them. Her thoughts had flown to the man she loved, to Phil, who, as things had turned out, could so easily have adopted Mandy. It was his children she had wanted, his arms about her, his kisses and intimate lovemaking. How could she be a good wife to Paul when she loved another man? She looked up at him mistily, seeing the firm and noble features, the brown skin and fair hair, the blue eyes so intensely fixed upon her face. He was a fine, good man, deserving of a woman who could give love unstintingly, who would be his alone, his true wife, his companion and his friend.
'I c-can't marry y-you,' she quivered, her mind refusing to be disciplined into rational thought. For it was not rational to talk like this when at the back of her consciousness she was admitting that there was no other course for her but marriage to Paul. He had been so right to remind her of what could happen if she were ill---or she could die for that matter. What would happen to Mandy then? 'I'm sorry, Paul,' she said in fretted tones. 'I'm so unhappy---oh, forgive me for saying that! What I really mean is that I'd imagined my marriage to be so different.' Her eyes were wide and pleading as they looked up into his. 'Try to understand, and to---to bear with me.'
'I'll try, my dear.' Paul's smile was crooked. 'All I do ask, though, is, don't try me too far, will you? I never was a patient man---'
'I think you're wonderfully patient,' she argued. 'You're so good with Mandy, and you don't know her... well, not like Phil does. And you've been patient with me, you know you have.'
She heard a sigh before he spoke.
'It hasn't always been easy, though,' she heard him admit ruefully. 'I've sometimes wanted to shake you.'
She lowered her lashes, colouring delicately, for it seemed so intimate, his talking like that, as if they were married already and he had the right to shake her. He tilted her chin, bent his head to fasten his lips to hers. She stood there, passive, scarcely conscious of the passion in the kiss, the possessiveness. Nor was she conscious of his hard frame so close and insistent, his hands moving sensuously and slowly, from her waist to her breasts. But he did not caress them; he just bent to kiss one nipple that, despite her lethargy, had hardened to a little bud, tender and desirably tempting. She could not know the difficulty this Greek was having at control, for he was a virile, strongly passionate man, who had found in Laura something he knew he had been looking for all his life.
She could not know all this because her thoughts were hazily trying to bring Phil's face into focus.
Laura smiled at her husband and wondered if he knew the difficulty she had in appearing cheerful. They had been married for almost a month, and not a day had passed but she had told herself that she could have found another way out. She ought to have made contact with Joseph herself, explained the position and asked him to consent to her fostering his child. She felt sure he would have given that consent, in which case the Authority would have had difficulty in trying to make excuses for taking Mandy into care. In fact, Laura felt convinced that they would have been only too eager to leave the child where she was already so settled and happy. Yes, she had been foolish, admitted Laura to herself. She had listened to Paul's warnings that she might be ill and not able to look after the child, but she ought to have firmly told him she would cross that kind of bridge only when she came to it.
'You're quiet, Laura.' The low, alien voice held censure in its depths, and not for the first time Laura was aware of her husband's growing lack of patience. She made no attempt to conceal the fact that she 'suffered' his advances, disliked his lovemaking because she could not reciprocate. Her heart was elsewhere, and she did wonder just how long she would feel like this---herself cheated and yet cheating the man who had up till this last week been so infinitely patient with her.
'I was thinking of my home,' she responded, and hoped the misery building up inside her wouldn't become manifest in a fall of tears. Paul would not like that.
'This is your home,' he reminded her in the same quiet, accented voice. He took the bottle from the cooler and topped up her wineglass. 'You have to forget the past, Laura; I've been telling you this for almost a month.'
'A month isn't long.' She lifted her glass and took a sip of the fruity white Cretan wine. 'I'd spent so much time and care on planning that little place and the result pleased me very much. You said yourself it was lovely.' There was a sort of simple, candid appeal about her expression as her eyes met his across the candlelit dinner table. 'It was hard to hand it over to an estate agent.' She had wept, she remembered, when she handed over the key. Most of the contents were included, since there seemed to be no sense of bringing furniture over here when it would have to be stored away, probably for years.
'You'll feel better once we're away and back at the villa,' Paul had assured her gently, his protective arm about her shoulder. But although she had smiled through her tears and agreed with him, she knew in her heart that she would never forget the moment as long as she lived.
'I agree that a month isn't long in forgetting certain things,' Paul was saying, and now there was an almost merciless quality in his voice. 'But it's my observation that you're making no attempt whatsoever to forget. On the contrary, you're brooding over the past, and over what you now consider to be the mistake of marriage to me.'
She looked at him, fork poised halfway to her mouth. Not for the first time had she been made aware of his perception. At times he seemed to be almost omniscient. The other thing which stayed in her mind was his mentioning 'certain things.' By that he meant her love for Phil and the heartbreak of losing him after she had so blithely and confidently seen her future as settled with Phil, and boundlessly happy. So much for dreams, she now thought bitterly.
'Surely you must know that it takes a long time to forget someone you love as dearly as I love Phil?' Laura spoke at last, knowing she was hurting him and yet driven by honesty and by the wish that he would not go on hoping that she would fall in love with him. Oh, yes, she knew that this was his one burning desire, because although he had never actually voiced the words, she had very soon guessed that he loved her. Therein lay the tragedy... a husband in love with the wife who loved someone else. It would not have been so bad, so hard to bear, if Paul hadn't been such a fine man, so kind and generous, to say nothing of the charm and gallantry which characterised his manner with her. He had given a dinner party in order to introduce her to various friends, and there was no mistaking the pride, the deep affection which was there for all to see.
'Since you're such a highly intelligent woman it amazes me that you can still be in love with a man who could be as heartless as he. To have accepted Mandy would not have been any hardship---'
'Phil hasn't the kind of money you have,' broke in Laura swiftly. 'When Mandy was older she could have been a burden...' Her voice trailed to a self-deprecating silence and she lowered her lashes against the look her husband gave her. But she could not close her ears to what he was saying.
'Why are you saying these things when, in your heart, you're condemning Phil? When you know that he would have had your support when the time came to pay out these expenses for the child? You told me yourself that you were only too willing to continue with your job.' Pausing, he waited a moment, but she had nothing to say and he added in a hard voice, 'Be honest, Laura, and admit that the man's love for you wasn't strong enough. He was willing to lose you rather than take the child.'
She closed her eyes and a sigh escaped her. 'You're right,' she conceded, but with difficulty, because she was admitting that Phil's love had been far less strong than hers. 'All the same, for my part, I can't stop loving him---not as quickly as you think I should.' Again there was about her that simple, candid appeal, and for her husband a charm that had the power to dispel both his anger and his frustration at her attitude in dogmatically refusing even to try to forget the man who had let her down so badly.
He said in low and gentle tones, 'Eat your dinner, dear, and let us put this matter from us. There are other, far more important things to talk about.'
'There are?' she looked enquiringly at him, her heart lightening at the change in him. Whatever her thoughts regarding Phil, she had to own that Paul's varied changes of mood could always affect her, depressing her spirits or lifting them, as they were being lifted now. Obsessed by the love she had for one man Laura did not even think of analysing her feelings for the other. 'What things, Paul?'
'I want to make you a settlement, in case anything should happen to me---'
'Don't say such things!' The interruption was swift and vehement, so much so that it brought a most curious expression to Paul's eyes. 'You're young, and in perfect health. You'll live to be a hundred.'
He looked at her long and hard before saying, 'Well, at least it's nice to know that despite your lack of love for me, you're not hoping for an early widowhood.'
She flinched, then coloured, ashamed to think that such an idea could have entered Paul's head, an idea which proved that he could attribute such a wish to her. Had she been so grossly unappreciative, then? Had she been so hateful towards him that he could harbour the thought that she wished him dead?
'Paul,' she whispered huskily, 'please don't say anything like that to me again. I might not love you but I admire you, and I'm grateful for all you've done for Mandy and me.' Her eyes were wide and contrite, her voice unsteady. 'How would I go on without you? And Mandy... she loves you very much.'
'Grateful.' Paul's voice was faintly bitter. 'I'm not asking for gratitude,' he added, ignoring the rest of what she had said. 'And now,' briskly before she could speak, 'the matter of a settlement. I want to provide for you, and for Mandy also. We'll go into Heraklion tomorrow afternoon and see my solicitor. There is also the question of an allowance. I notice you haven't yet asked me for any money.' He threw her a quizzical glance and forced a reluctant smile from her. 'Obviously you haven't yet indulged in any extravagances.'
'I was never extravagant,' she returned, still smiling. 'And I can't think I ever shall be.'
'I want you to have a good wardrobe,' he said, and now his voice was firm and emphatic. 'As my wife, you must have nice clothes---Don't take that wrongly, dear. You have some charming clothes but what I meant was that your wardrobe mustn't be limited. I shall make you an allowance so that you can go out and buy whatever you want. I'll give you some extra for Mandy...' His voice cut slowly to silence.
Laura, lips quivering and eyes far too bright, was staring mistily at him, and for perhaps the most surprising moment of her life she felt the urge to get up, go to him, fling her arms about his neck and offer him her lips. Dazed by the knowledge of this almost irrepressible compulsion, she continued to stare, with the emotional tenseness of the silence stretching until Paul, with that incredible gift of perception, rose from his chair, moved round to her, bent his head, and kissed her full on the lips.
'I think that's what you wanted,' he said, and she noticed that his expression matched the tender quality of his voice.
Later he came to her room, the room adjoining his, to which she had moved on her marriage. She was in a dainty nightdress, lacy and transparent, and Paul stood for a long moment watching her brushing her hair while her eyes met his in the mirror. He was in a dressing gown of black silk trimmed with gold, a colour almost matching his hair, she noticed, which was a sort of burnished gold shading to paler tints at the front, where it marked the aristocratic line of his forehead. She turned as he came forward and a smile fluttered to her lips. He took the brush from her hand and placed it on the dressing table.
'How beautiful you are...' He took her in his arms, pressing the solid, muscular frame of his body against the pliant softness of hers; he stared down into her pale countenance and seemed to shake his head in a gesture of inexplicable disbelief before, bending his head, he took full possession of her moist and softly parted lips, while his hands wandered, disturbingly sensuous and strong, over the outline of her rib cage to span her waist before moving down to spread intimately over her delicate curves.
She quivered as emotions were brought alive to filter into every nerve cell of mind and body. Her hands moved, as with a gesture of shy abandon she dropped all restraint and voluntarily caressed his shoulders, his throat, and the back of his neck where the hair was thick and strong between her fingers. She felt him shudder as if nerve vibrations were affecting him from head to foot, felt him press even closer, so that he could feel the smooth warmth of her body fuse with his, could experience the thrill of her breasts crushed against the granite hardness of his chest. She heard a throaty sound of pleasure as he rubbed his cheek on hers, looked up between her lashes to find that his eyes were closed.
Languor spread its exquisite balm through her mind; every misgiving, every anxiety and doubt melted as she clung to him, as she gave her lips willingly and felt pleasure, where once she had felt resentment, at the fiercely possessive way in which he kissed her. His hands moved to her shoulders, then cupped her face, while his blue eyes seemed to devour her beauty, remaining on her face for what seemed an eternity before, with gentle tender manipulation he had slipped the nightdress from her shoulders, and she was naked before him---shy and pink-cheeked and amazed that she knew no anger, certainly no shame that he should be looking at her with wide, sensuous eyes that roved to find her every delicate curve, every outline and intimate place. She watched him discard the dressing gown, then the pyjama trousers which were all he wore. She closed her eyes in shy avoidance and heard the low and tender laugh as, swinging her into his arms, he carried her to the bed.
It was a week later that Laura met, for the first time, the glamorous beauty whose photograph Mandy had shown her only the day before.
'What are you doing in Daddy's room?' she had asked the child when, on hearing a low, humming sound, she realised that Mandy was in Paul's bedroom. Laura had stood in the open doorway between the rooms as Mandy danced towards her, waving the photograph.
'I was going to try and find that big toffee he took from me,' she said. 'Do you remember it, Mummy?'
Laura shook her head, staring down at the photograph which Mandy had given her, but with one-half of her mind on just how easily Mandy had been able to call her 'Mummy' after calling her 'Aunty' for so long.
'Daddy said it was too big for my mouth and made me give it to him, so I thought, Never mind; I can find it in his room when he isn't there. But I can't find it, but I saw this.' She reached up to touch the photograph. 'Isn't she a lovely lady? Do you think she's a film star?'
The chubby face was, as usual, wreathed in smiles which faded only slightly when Laura admonished her about going into Paul's bedroom.
'He'll never know,' returned Mandy airily. 'Is that lady a film star?' she asked again.
'I don't know.' Laura spoke slowly, her eyes fixed to the flawless beauty of the face looking back at her. Beauty? Yes... but wasn't there something unfathomable lurking in the depths of those enormous blue-grey eyes? The mouth, too, seemed hard, somehow. 'Where did you say you found this?' She brought her eyes away at last to look down at Mandy.
'In a drawer.'
'Then go and put it back.'
Mandy took it from her and ran across the room to a small chest of drawers, the bottom one of which she opened to drop the photograph inside. Laura watched her close it and turn, frowning.
'I wonder where that big toffee is? It cost three drachmae---well, I bought two for that. I'm glad I ate one before Daddy saw them both, because he'd have taken the two of them.' She swung around on her toes, eyes searching. 'I wish I could find it,' she said with a deep sigh.
'I'll give you a bar of chocolate.' Laura was still thinking about the photograph and wondering who the girl was.
And the following day she was in Mandy's bedroom when, glancing through the window, she saw a low-slung sports car sweeping along the drive to disappear round the bend which led to the front of the house.
For some reason Laura went into her own room, reaching the window in time to see the girl alight and stand for a few seconds, the sunlight making pure gold of her hair. Something heavy settled in the pit of Laura's stomach as she recognised her as the girl in the photograph.
What was she doing here? More important, who was she and what was her relationship with Paul?
Frowning, she tried to dismiss the questions, but they persisted. Yet what had it to do with her if, before his marriage, her husband had had a girl friend? Laura felt sure she had been his girl friend, for otherwise he would not have her photograph in his drawer.
It was with some reluctance that Laura eventually went along to the sitting room where, she surmised, the girl would be---with Paul. Laura need not have gone into the room at all, but curiosity drove her there, and as soon as she entered, Paul got up to make the introductions.
'Laura---Marilyn---this is a friend of mine,' he said.
'How do you do?' Laura shook hands mechanically, her eyes moving from the girl to Paul and then back again.
'Marilyn's been away from the island for over a year.' Paul spoke quickly. Not like him, thought Laura, and it seemed to her that he was eager to pass on the information to his wife. Obviously he did not want her to be upset by the girl's presence, surmising things that did not exist.
'Happy to meet you.' The girl's voice was husky and low, without much expression. In her gaze, though, there was that certain something Laura had noticed in the photograph, and which she did not like. 'Paul's sprung a surprise on me and that's for sure. Married! I couldn't believe it when he told me just now.' Marilyn was English and Laura wondered if she lived here in Crete. Paul soon enlightened her.
'Marilyn's parents keep an hotel in Heraklion. It was left to her mother by a distant cousin who was Greek.'
'So you live here permanently?' Laura, conscious that Paul was standing, took possession of a chair and he sat down at once.
'Yes, I do.' Marilyn's glance was travelling over Laura's figure, her blue-lidded eyes narrowed, her mouth tight. 'Paul tells me you and he have adopted a child.'
'That's right... Mandy.' She glanced at Paul, wondering how much he had told the girl.
'You're starting married life encumbered!' Marilyn shrugged. 'Wouldn't do for me. I'd want children of my own or none at all.'
'It happened to be a necessity.' Paul was frowning darkly. 'Would you two girls like some tea?'
'That would be nice.' Marilyn stretched her legs and crossed them with the grace and elegance of a model. 'Well, Paul, you haven't asked me about the course I've been on.' Her lashes fluttered and the red-tipped nails flashed in the sunlight as she lifted a hand unnecessarily to twist a strand or two of fine gold hair. She leant back languidly and stared almost challengingly across to where Paul was sitting with his back to the window through which the afternoon sun was shafting as it began to descend.
Paul rose to ring the bell and for a moment Laura felt he was not intending to answer Marilyn's question. But on sitting down again he said, 'How did you get along, then?'
'I passed everything quite satisfactorily.'
'So now you're qualified to manage an hotel?'
'Not to manage one, but I am hoping to find a post as assistant manager. I think,' she said, but noticeably without enthusiasm, 'I might try Switzerland.'
'One of the best places to learn about the hotel business.'
'What kind of work did you do in England?' enquired Marilyn of Laura, flashing her a supercilious glance, as if expecting her to say she'd worked in the rag trade or something equally third-rate.
'I was an interior designer. I worked for Douglas Hendrick.'
'Oh... an interesting job.' Marilyn was obviously not impressed.
An awkward silence fell then, and as she met her husband's gaze Laura knew he was as conscious as she of the strained atmosphere. But the appearance of Marco provided a diversion, and while Paul gave him the order Laura decided to make at least some attempt to resume a conversation.
'Your work, too, is interesting,' she said, managing a smile to accompany the words. 'Those who work in hotels meet so many different kinds of people, and many nationalities.'
'I daresay you also met many people.' Marilyn lifted a slender white hand to suppress a yawn. Laura wondered why she was here at all; more than that she wondered why she stayed, seeing that she was so plainly bored.
It was a relief when Paul began to chat with the girl and Laura could subside into quietness and her own thoughts. She felt these two had once been intimate...very intimate. Why, then, had they parted? It hadn't been a hostile parting, obviously. Had Marilyn been responsible for the break, or Paul? Somehow Laura felt it was Paul, because of the way Marilyn looked at him. She still liked him, and that was to say the least.
The tea was brought and Marco set down the tray. 'Shall I pour, Mr. Pavlos?' he asked, dark eyes slanting surreptitiously from Marilyn to Laura and then to Paul.
'I can do it, thank you, Marco,' interposed Laura graciously. And then she asked, 'Have you any idea what Mandy is doing?'
'It is all right, madam; she is playing in the garden with Pelaya. Always Pelaya likes to have some time with the little Mandy when possible. Pelaya is very good with children, like a mother!'
'Thank you, Marco. But Pelaya will be leaving soon, surely?' Automatically she glanced at her watch.
'Then Julia will play with Mandy.'
'If not, then tell Pelaya to send Mandy in here, please.'
'Very good, madam,' returned Marco with a smile.
'Aren't you having a full-time nanny for the child?' Marilyn had been watching with narrowed eyes as Laura and Marco conducted the interchange, her expression almost baleful---certainly it had a quality of resentment about it.
'It isn't necessary,' answered Paul. 'Mandy will soon be at school. I've already booked her in, here in the village.'
'This school,' echoed Marilyn with a disparaging ring. 'She'll learn precious little there.'
'Enough until she's a bit older,' from Laura as she poured tea from an ornate pot which matched the rest of the set of Georgian silverware, including the tray. 'As for a full-time nanny---I wouldn't want one anyway.
I can look after Mandy myself.' How much had Paul told the girl, Laura wondered again, deciding to ask him once Marilyn had made her departure.
Conversation became light and unimportant as they drank their tea, and when at last Marilyn stood up to leave, there was a quiet knock on the oak-panelled door and Marco came in to tell Paul he was wanted on the telephone.
'Excuse me,' he said and left the two girls together.
Laura stood up, expecting Marilyn to go, but instead she sank down again into the chair she had just vacated. Laura looked askance at her, then she also sat down again. 'Would you like another cup of tea?' she asked politely, feeling the pot. 'It's still fairly hot---'
'No, thank you,' broke in Marilyn rudely. Her whole manner had changed dramatically; Laura regarded with some surprise the tight mouth, the glint of malice in the eyes, the heavy frown marring the wide, smooth-textured skin of her forehead. 'Your marriage was very sudden, wasn't it?' Marilyn's glance flickered insolently over Laura's figure.
'What exactly do you mean by that?' Laura's colour was heightened, but more with anger than embarrassment at the subtle implication of that glance.
'Paul doesn't usually act impulsively, but he's certainly broken the rule with you. How and where did you two meet?'
Laura's eyes grew wide and a gasp of incredulity escaped her. 'You're insolent,' she snapped. 'Just what has it to do with you how and where we met?'
An ugly look was the only answer for a full thirty seconds. It was plain that Marilyn was under some disturbing emotional stress. She seemed to be searching for words, and Laura gained the impression that she wanted to say something and yet not lose her dignity At last she said, in quivering tones that betrayed both pain and anger, 'I can only think that Paul married you on the rebound. You see, we were almost engaged then we quarrelled and I went away. I felt that Paul would realise just how important I was to him, but instead he retaliated by marrying you. I see now that my going was a mistake... and he sees it too.' She paused but Laura could not immediately find anything to say, and she went on, 'I knew he'd probably take a mistress, being a Greek. But I never for one moment thought he'd commit the supreme folly of marriage.' Again that flickering glance before she said blatantly, 'Are you pregnant?'
Another gasp fell from Laura's lips. The girl must be crazed with jealousy and hatred to talk like this! 'I think,' said Laura with admirable control, 'that when you have left here you will bitterly regret what you've been saying. You appear to be a woman with rather more pride than most, but by this talk you are lowering that pride. I am hoping to save you further embarrassment by asking you to leave.'
Sheer venom flashed in Marilyn's eyes. She was plainly furious at the dignity which Laura was able to portray with such ease, when any other girl would have flown into a raging temper.
'This child---' Marilyn seemed to be in the power of some driving force, and although Laura tried to interrupt, she seemed determined to have her say. 'Paul told me she's a relative of yours who lost her parents and you've been looking after her since babyhood. I pretended to accept the story, but---' A sneer caught her underlip and her expression became contemptuous. 'I didn't believe a word of it.'
So that was the story Paul had given. Laura had been intending to ask him later, when they were alone.
'It's immaterial to me whether you believe it or not,' she returned in icy tones. 'My husband has proof that Mandy isn't mine, if that is what you are insinuating.'
'You're clever!' Malice and virulence lent a high-pitched tone to the voice, and again Laura tried to interrupt, but without success. 'How you managed to hoodwink him I don't know, but as I've said, he sees now that my going away was a mistake.'
'Have you some good reason for making an assertion like that?' Although a trifle troubled, Laura managed to adopt a reserve and coolness bordering on austerity. 'What you are really saying is that Paul's marriage to me was a mistake which he now regrets.'
'Yes, that is what I am saying. Paul still loves me---' She stopped abruptly as the door was thrown open unceremoniously, and Mandy skipped into the room.
Laura said with a smile as she took the child's small hand in hers, 'This is the little girl you were talking about... Mandy. Mandy, dear, say how do you do to the lady.' It suddenly struck Laura that Paul hadn't mentioned Marilyn's surname.
'How do you do,' repeated Mandy obediently, her big eyes examining the girl from head to foot. 'You're the lady in the picture!' she cried at length. 'Are you a film star?'
Laura bit her lip; the fact that Mandy might recognise Marilyn had not for one moment occurred to her.
'The picture?' repeated Marilyn with quick diversion. 'What are you talking about?'
'Your picture's in my daddy's drawer. I showed it to Mummy yesterday. I was looking for a big toffee that my---'
'It isn't important, Mandy,' broke in Laura. 'Where is Pelaya? Has she gone?'
'She's just going so she brought me here to be with you for a few minutes till Julia or Lefki can come out to play with me.'
'So Paul keeps my picture...' Marilyn might have been speaking to herself, so low-pitched was her tone. But she was looking intently at Laura, a triumphant sneer curling her lips. 'You see,' she murmured and rose from the chair. 'I'll be going,' she said, and swinging round towards the door which Mandy had left wide open, she passed silently through it.
Lefki came within seconds, a ready smile on her round, homely face. 'I'm free now, Mrs. Pavlos,' she said with a glance at Mandy, who was now standing before an antique glass cabinet wherein eighteenth-century English porcelain mingled with surprising harmony side by side with limited editions of glorious modern art in the form of birds and flowers. Some groups were there too in Spode, Worcester, and Wedgwood. But on hearing the Greek maid's voice, she spun around and trotted to the door.
The two had just left the room when Paul returned. 'Marilyn's gone,' he observed casually. 'Is there another cup of tea in that pot?'
'Paul...' Laura paused, but only momentarily. 'Who is she?'
'Who?'
'Marilyn, of course.'
'I've already said she's a friend of mine.' Paul's voice was deliberately curt.
'Yes, but---she was more than a friend, wasn't she?' Doubts and fears chased shadows into her eyes. She was thinking of Marilyn's assertion that Paul knew he had made a mistake in getting married.
'If you must know,' he said after an impatient moment of pause, 'she and I were---er---I believe in your country you call it "going steady".'
'I thought so.'
'And what made you think so?' Terse the tone but interest lay in his expression.
Laura hesitated, loath to repeat what the girl had said. It was not that she deserved any consideration, but for Laura's part it seemed both malicious and petty to give her away. However, Paul was waiting for an answer and at last she said, 'I sensed her being very upset on learning you were married---'
'What did she say after I left the room?' he interrupted brusquely.
'I'll pour you your tea,' offered Laura, wishing she had not broached the subject of Marilyn in the first place. 'It's warm but not exactly hot now.'
'Leave the tea.' His voice was stern, authoritative. 'I asked you a question and would like an answer.'
She looked at him standing there, his lithe and powerful frame erect, his eyes hard, like tempered steel. It was clear that he meant to have an answer.
'It---it doesn't matter, Paul. Forget I asked about her.' She was on the defensive, and it exasperated him in a way that astounded her.
'Do you want me to shake you, Laura?' he enquired in a very soft voice.
'I wish I'd never mentioned her.' Laura was assuming an air of composure she was far from feeling.
'But as you did mention her, then let us have this out, once and for all. I don't want you suspecting things that don't exist.'
So he was troubled about her, anxious for her not to worry. Her heart warmed to him and a flood of affection encompassed her like sun-kissed water on a summer's day. She felt wonderful and it showed, in her eyes, sparkling and wide, in her colour, which resembled the bloom of a newly gathered peach, in the smile she gave him and with which she hoped to melt away his anger. She waited and saw his stern face relax, noticed the slow smile which erased the tightness of his mouth. Her lovely lips widened as her smile spread. Paul stepped forward, cupped her face in his strong warm hands and kissed her---gently at first, a mere caress, but ardour brought strength, and when at last he released her from the embrace into which he had drawn her she was breathless, gasping to take in air.
'Oh...' Laura inhaled deeply. 'Wh-why did you do that?'
'Because you tempted me.' His smile was slow, but yet reflected the humour in his glance. 'If you look at me like that, Laura, you must expect some kind of reaction.'
She gave a shaky laugh, strangely happy that he was teasing her. 'Do you want the tea?' she asked absurdly. 'It---'
'No, I don't want the tea. I still want an answer to my question.' His eyes locked with hers, and although the challenge in their depths was mild, Laura was not deceived into thinking she could parry any longer.
'Marilyn seemed to think you'd married... er... on the rebound.' The words came reluctantly and they brought a flush to Laura's cheeks.
'She did?' imperturbably. .'What else did she say?'
Laura clasped her hands, cursing herself for even so much as mentioning the girl. 'She... she said she made a mistake in going away, and that... that you could see it now...' Her voice trailed to silence and she looked down at her hands.
'She said that?' Paul's voice was chill and incisive. 'She must have been in a strange mood to speak to you in that kind of vein.'
'As I said, she was upset on learning that you are married.' She moved restlessly towards the window, surprised to see how rapidly the sun was falling, until she looked at her watch. The sun fell swiftly in this part of the world, and as yet she was still missing the long twilight to which she had been used. Already the celestial blue of the sky was tinted with turquoise and pearl.
'Was that all she said?' The cold precision of Paul's voice brought her swinging around to face him again.
'Does it matter?' she asked with a plea in her voice which he chose to ignore.
'It matters a great deal. As I've said, I don't want you suspecting things that don't exist.'
'I know it's all over,' she assured him.
'Yes, it's certainly all over,' he returned grimly. 'As for there being regret on my part... she's wrong and I should have thought she knew it. Marilyn and I would never have been compatible, and I explained this to her. I pointed out also, that it was better to discover it before marriage than after that most vitally important step had been taken.' He paused a moment and then went on. 'I insist on hearing all she said to you, Laura, so please don't prevaricate any longer or I am liable to lose my patience.'
Laura looked at him, aware that the part he had left unsaid was that she had not yet seen his temper, and her memory winged to that early impression she had--- that he could reveal a very different side of his nature that he could be ruthless to the point of cruelty. After all, he was a Cretan, and Cretans were notorious for being merciless towards those who opposed or angered them. It was a truism that there was 'none like them in all the peopled world.'
She continued to look at his set face and gave a sigh of resignation. The next few minutes were going to be unpleasantly difficult for her she thought as she began to repeat all that Marilyn had said. She saw his mouth compress when he heard what Marilyn had hinted about Mandy.
'Didn't you tell her that she was Joseph's child?' he demanded with rising anger.
'No. You'd told her that Mandy was a relative of mine...'
'So I did.' Paul seemed annoyed with himself. 'It seemed the simplest explanation at the time.' He stopped and frowned. 'You should have told her the truth, though. I wouldn't have minded.'
'As a matter of fact I didn't feel like embarking on explanations to a woman I didn't know. I merely said that you had proof that Mandy wasn't my child.' Embarrassed, she turned away again, hoping he would let the matter drop now that he had heard everything. The sun was lower in the sky, and shadows were lengthening across the wide green lawns and the exotically beautiful flowers in the borders and shrubberies. A figure flitted among the trees and then was gone. Another, smaller figure darted into the dimness after being caught fleetingly in the sunlight. Laura smiled. How happy Mandy was these days. This was what she had needed, people about her, people like Lefki and Julia and others to play with her, to give her some attention. She was thriving on it and Laura felt that Phil would scarcely know her now.
'I can hardly believe that Marilyn would lower her pride sufficiently to talk like that to you,' Paul was saying after a thoughtful pause during which he had gone over all that Laura had said. 'She's usually very conscious of her dignity.'
'I told her she'd regret what she was saying. Like you, I felt she had never before lowered her pride like that.'
'There's obviously an inherent flaw in her character, a weakness over which, at the time, she had no control.' Again Paul lapsed into thought, while Laura nodded automatically in agreement. For herself, she had a natural aversion to acting in any way which, reviewed at a later time, might cause her cheeks to burn. 'Her only motive must have been the desire to upset you.' Paul sighed. 'There seems no other logical explanation.'
'I believe she sensed a mystery.'
'There is no mystery.'
'Well, it wasn't a normal marriage... and I feel she guessed it wasn't---' Laura broke off as she noticed the lifting of her husband's brows, a sign that he was reminding her that it certainly was a normal marriage. 'What I mean is,' she added hurriedly before he could voice the sardonic remark which she was sure lingered on his tongue, 'that there never were the normal preliminaries... the falling in love---' Again she stopped, aware now of the sudden tightening of his facial muscles and the shadows which had darkened the vivid blue of his eyes. She frowned. Did he regret that there had been no preliminaries? No falling in love? Yes, she was sure of it, for she had learned that he could be sentimental, far more sentimental than Phil had ever been.
He looked at her and said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, 'Were you upset by Marilyn's malicious remarks?'
'A little, especially when she implied that you now knew your marriage was a mistake.' She turned to the window again on hearing childish laughter, but there was no sign of Mandy. Laura guessed the two were playing hide-go-seek among the trees and flowering shrubs. But it looked as if they would be driven in before long because instead of the expected miracle of the sunset, there was an eerie light descending over the entire landscape, which changed the aspect with dramatic suddenness. The sky had darkened, overcast by pewter-grey clouds which were vanquishing the sun and casting a forlorn atmosphere over the garden, making it appear sad and uninspiring. 'I think it's going to rain,' predicted Laura, and at that moment felt her husband's hands come to rest upon her shoulders. He turned her to face him, bent his head and brushed her lips with his.
'You, my dear,' he said gently, 'have nothing to fear from any woman. The men of my family right down through the ages have been notorious rakes before marriage but invariably have made faithful husbands.'
A smile lit her eyes, hinting of mischief. 'Were you a rake?' she wanted to know, and he laughed before answering.
'A wife doesn't ask a question like that.' He gave her a little shake to emphasise the words.
'I don't think you were a rake,' she stated with conviction.
'No?' His brows were raised and amusement glimmered in his eyes. He thought of his past as regards his relationships with women. A lot of laughter in his youth, interludes of dalliance, a sample now and then of the joys of sex, but certainly he'd never overindulged to the point where he could be described as a rake. He supposed his experience was somewhat scanty in comparison with that of the average Greek male, but he had acquired a certain finesse for all that. He looked down at his wife and smiled. Into the even tenor of his life she had come, and it seemed that all which had gone before dissolved into nothingness. But she was in love with someone else...
'Dear Paul...' Her voice was no more than a whisper but the word 'dear' seemed to ring like music in his ears. It was the first time she had used it, and he wondered if it was the beginning of the victory he was fighting for. 'What are you thinking about? You're so far away from me.'
'And does that matter?'
'Yes,' she said without a moment's hesitation, 'it does.'
The ensuing silence was profound; she looked at him and saw that his eyes were shaded by emotion. On impulse she went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.
During the next week or two Laura found herself falling into a pattern of life which, at least, was one of contentment. True, scarcely an hour passed but what there would be a brief intrusion of Phil into her thoughts, but more and more she was able to dismiss the image with a swiftness that surprised her. She spent a good deal of her time with Mandy, but she had been shopping, too, in Heraklion, taken there by Paul who had some business to do in the town. Laura splashed out with some of the generous allowance she had been given both for herself and Mandy. It gave her disproportionate pleasure when her husband praised her choice, but one day he did say she must have a shopping spree in Athens in the not-too-distant future. 'I have to go on business next week,' he told her, but added that as his entire time would be taken up, he was not taking her with him. They would have a few days next month, he promised, when he would be able to give her all his time. She was looking forward to it but was faintly disappointed that he was going alone first. She would miss him, she realised, miss him far more than she would have done earlier in their relationship.
He had been gone only a few hours when to her surprise she had a phone call from Marilyn.
'Before you tell me Paul's away, I'm saying it's you I'm wanting to speak to,' Marilyn began, an inscrutable ring to her voice. Laura held the receiver away, frowning at it as her heartbeats began to quicken.
'Me?' she returned briefly. 'Why me?'
'Oh, just to have a little chat,' was the cryptic reply. 'Is it all right if I come over immediately after lunch?'
'You know Paul's away, obviously?'
'I happened to be at the airport seeing a party of our guests off when I saw Paul. He said he was leaving for Athens.' A pause, but Laura felt instinctively that it was not made so that she could speak, but because Marilyn was thinking something over. Her next words strengthened the suspicion. 'He was exceptionally cool, which makes me think you repeated to him all I said to you.'
Ignoring the implicit question, Laura said quietly, 'I can't imagine that you and I have anything important to say to one another, Marilyn, and so I'm not inviting you over---'
'Then I shall invite myself!'
'You---!' Again Laura stared into the receiver, 'I don't understand,' she said coldly.
'You will. I've been doing a little detective work among Paul's employees because I became most curious to know how he came to marry you...' She stopped. 'I can't talk over the phone,' she resumed after a few seconds and in a much lower tone of voice. 'I'll be over at about half past two this afternoon.' And without giving Laura any further chance of speaking, she hung up.
Slowly Laura replaced the receiver on its rest. Should she phone Paul? He had left her a number---that of his apartment in the capital---and said that although he would be out all day and probably until late in the evening, she could leave a message if anything happened to make that necessary.
She stood, thoughtfully going over what Marilyn had said; she was conscious of ragged nerves and the sort of breathless discomfiture which always follows a sudden quickening of the heartbeats. She was most uncomfortable inside, as if knots were even now being tied in her stomach. What form had this detective work taken? And why had Marilyn interested herself in her, Laura, and the circumstances of her marriage to Paul? It was true that the girl was crazed with jealousy, but since there could be no possibility of undoing what was done, there seemed no profit in what Marilyn was doing. Nevertheless, Laura was conscious of a certain fear, a foreboding, and decided to postpone ringing her husband until after she had heard what the girl had to say.
Marilyn was prompt; her car crunched to a stop right outside the imposing, pillared facade of the villa and she eased her supple body from the driver's seat, glancing towards the window at which Laura was standing, the wide french window of the living room into which she was shown less than half a minute later. She came in with her head held high, as if she would have Laura forget her self-inflicted humiliation of the previous visit. The big eyes were brilliant, as if triumph lurked somewhere in their depths.
Laura said good afternoon and flicked a hand, indicating a chair. 'Please sit down.'
There was a look of sneering amusement on Marilyn's face as she accepted the invitation, but there was something more as well, something that sent icy ripples along Laura's spine.
'I haven't much time before Mandy comes from play school,' said Laura, 'so please bear that in mind and be as brief as possible.' She was acting a part, making a supreme effort to hide her uneasiness.
'You're a cool one!' Marilyn leant back in the red damask chair, her golden head making an attractive contrast against the soft, duck-down cushion behind it. She wore a cotton dress of pale lilac with dark mauve trimming; her bag and sandals were of fine white leather. An exotic perfume clung to the girl as if it were part of her and her alone. Attractive, desirable, tempting... Just three adjectives out of many flattering ones that Laura could have used. She wondered just how deep Paul's feelings had been for this girl. 'So you've started the child at school already?'
'Play school. It's just a few hours daily.'
'You fetch her home yourself?'
Laura frowned impatiently and sat down. 'Will you please say what you've come to say? I'm sure you're not interested in Mandy.' So cool, but inside... The knots were twisting themselves together again. 'You said on the telephone that you'd been talking to some of Paul's employees. Perhaps you'll explain, because I'm extremely interested in your reason for this... er... detective work, as you call it.'
Marilyn looked at her through narrowed, glittering eyes. 'You came here originally to find Joseph Warburton. You asked all about, even in the cafeneion down in the village.'
'You've been busy,' was Laura's only response to that.
'And so were you---without much success. You were not only wanting to find Joseph, but the woman who'd been living with him... your sister.' Marilyn stopped and waited, eyes still narrowed but they flickered now, continuously, as they looked into the guarded stare of the girl sitting opposite to her.
'Will you tell me what all this is leading up to?' Laura marvelled at the steadiness of her voice. Bewildered because nothing had as yet emerged with any clarity, she was at the same time profoundly affected by the girl's manner, feeling that before this interview was over Marilyn would have succeeded in striking real fear into her heart. 'How you have learned that Joseph's wife was my sister I can't think. I never mentioned it to anyone.'
'His wife!' with a ring of contempt. 'Oh, well, I expect you prefer to think of her as his wife. However, she's not the wife of the man she's with at present, is she?' Laura, pale now but still managing to retain her composure, refused to comment and the girl continued in the same cat-and-mouse way. 'You had no idea when you came here looking for Mandy's father that your sister had put herself in grave danger. When you were told of this danger by Paul you then made some attempt to find her---'
'How do you know all this?' demanded Laura with a baffled stare. 'It would almost seem you have eavesdropped, here in this house, but of course that isn't possible.'
'No; but it's possible for someone else to eavesdrop.'
'You mean... ?' Laura was still baffled. 'None of Paul's servants would eavesdrop. There's no reason why they should.'
'It depends.' A pause followed, with electricity running through the silence. 'You know of the vendetta. Paul told you about it. Well, in his employ there is at least one person who believes in just punishment for a crime. An eye for an eye! As I do.' The girl's voice was becoming strident and her manner almost hysterical as she continued. 'You took the man I was going to marry. If you hadn't arrived on the scene, all would have been right between us when I came home! But you did arrive, to look for Joseph so you could give him his child. Then Paul, out of pity... and perhaps to spite me... asked you to marry him. It would solve all your problems. You refused because you had someone else. What happened on your return to England I'm unable to know for sure, since I wasn't there. But I can make an intelligent guess. Your fiancé still wouldn't have the child.' She stopped, her eyes wide and bulging now, and bright with sheer virulence. She was mad, thought Laura, and rising rather quickly, tugged at the bell-rope. 'What are you doing?' demanded Marilyn, leaning forward in her chair to pick up her handbag. 'Don't you dare ask anyone to show me out yet! I haven't finished... not by any means!' Fumblingly she opened the bag and extracted a cigarette case.
Fascinated, Laura watched even though her mind, made chaotic by all it had taken in, was grappling with the instinct to put all the items in order. The one starkly distasteful thing was that someone had deliberately listened to much that had been said---in this very room mainly---by Paul and herself. She spoke at last, after Marilyn, inhaling deeply, seemed to have calmed down a little. 'What reason did you have for this investigation?'
'I've told you! You took the man I wanted!'
'You yourself are a member of this vendetta, aren't you?'
'Clever deduction!' sneered Marilyn, dragging on the cigarette again.
'Does Paul know?'
'I haven't admitted anything---'
'There's no need; it's obvious---' Laura stopped as Marco came into the room. She heard him say, 'Yes, Madam Pavlos? You want something?'
But she did not answer; she was examining every detail of his face, the eyes and mouth especially. Frank eyes, as dark as could be without being actually black, a full mouth, parted now in the familiar smile he seemed to keep especially for her. He smiled at Marilyn, too, but she was indifferent to it.
'Bring some tea, please,' she said and returned his smile. She was so very relieved that it wasn't Marco who was the traitor. She had liked him from that very first evening when he had so graciously spoken in English instead of his native Greek.
Demetrius... At least one, Marilyn had said. At least---which implied that there was more than one adherent to the principles of the vendetta but did not necessarily mean that more than one person had eavesdropped. Demetrius, she thought again, then dismissed the idea as unfair. Demetrius had always been courteous to her, had always known his place as a servant in her husband's house.
So who else was there? Of the three girls Laura did consider Pelaya, then again dismissed the idea, and in any case, Marilyn was speaking again, to ask why she was so quiet.
'I was trying to think who could have eavesdropped.'
'It's not important.'
'Not important?' with a lift of Laura's brows. 'Paul will consider it of prime importance. Whoever it is will be out of a job very shortly.'
The other girl merely shrugged her shoulders. 'I didn't come here to waste time on discussing Paul's servants.'
'Nevertheless, you were willing to use one.' Laura was still very puzzled about several aspects of this business, and it was with some impatience that she had to wait for the departure of Marco who had just entered with the tea tray.
'I'll manage now, thank you.' She smiled, noticing his swift and inscrutable glance across the room to where Marilyn was seated in the big armchair, legs crossed, a cigarette between her lips.
'It was a natural thing that I should use one. After I'd discovered that you were going around all Paul's workers, asking about Irene and Joseph, it set me thinking. You must remember that I did not even know they'd parted or that they were no longer here. I was curious; I knew that I might be able to gain some information from one of the servants here, in this house, and I did gain information. It was easy, because Demos Gavezas had already been making enquiries of this servant. He had asked him to listen, so that he could pick up any clues as to the whereabouts of your sister, since it was possible that Paul might just happen to know where she was.' Marilyn paused.
Laura, nerves wary and pulse racing, leant forward to pour the tea, an automatic gesture urged by her subconscious in order to ease the tension that was tightening every muscle in her body. 'Perhaps,' she said, after getting up to place Marilyn's tea on a small table which she had put at her elbow, 'you will now come to the main point of your visit?'
'You're a cool one and no mistake.' A sneer caught Marilyn's underlip before she put the cigarette back into her mouth. 'I doubt, though, that you are as cool inside.' She inhaled deeply, then regarded Laura through the veil of smoke she had made. 'Yes, I believe the time is right for revealing the real motive behind my visit. It's revenge... or hadn't you guessed?' Triumph mingled with deep hatred and Laura's heart seemed to leap right into her throat.
Angry because this girl had created the fear that raced through her veins, Laura sent her a fiery glance and said in quivering tones, 'Come out with it, Marilyn, and stop this stupid taunting! Jealousy's making a child of you! Be your age and say what you came to say!'
Marilyn's eyes widened to their full extent. She seemed for a moment unable to believe that her enemy had rallied, because Marilyn had convinced herself that Laura was quaking inside. 'You seem exceedingly eager to hear what the Gavezas brothers have in store for you...'
'For me?' exclaimed Laura, looking sharply at her. 'Why me? I haven't done anything.'
'You obviously haven't been enlightened as to the laws applying to the vendetta. Paul seems to have kept back vital information.'
'What information?' Laura's fear was swamping her previous anger.
'If the wrongdoer can't be found, then the next of kin is chosen for punishment.' Slowly came the words, with Marilyn's hard eyes fixed on Laura's face as the colour receded, leaving it white. 'You will take the punishment... you and perhaps the child.' Again the words came slowly in order that they could be absorbed and fully understood.
Laura's mouth felt dry and a pain was causing her temples to throb. 'Mandy has nothing whatsoever to do with it. She's no relation either to me or to my sister.' Even as she spoke Laura felt sure the other girl had an answer ready.
'Mandy was no relation until you adopted her. She is now the niece of the woman wanted by the Gavezas brothers. I have irrefutable information that they intend to inflict vengeance on you, and as I said, probably on the child.'
'No one would be wicked enough to take a little girl away and hurt her!'
'Little girls are being taken away and hurt all the time.'
'But this is different! I still do not believe these Gavezas people would take Mandy...no, it's not possible!' Laura was shaking her head vigorously. 'As for their wanting to punish me instead of my sister--- well, that's equally unconvincing. I refuse to believe they'd want to use me as a whipping boy!'
'It's custom,' asserted Marilyn coolly. 'It's been going on for countless ages, both here and in the Deep Mani. Custom,' she repeated. 'And custom is stronger than law.' Leaning forward in her chair with a sort of negligent gesture and picking up her tea. 'I know the Gavezas boys well; they're strong and savage adherents to the ancient laws of the vendetta, so make no mistake. Now they know you're related to Irene, you're doomed.'
'Don't be melodramatic!' Laura stopped somewhat abruptly, frowning at her own banality.
'I'm stating facts.' Marilyn's glance was brittle and cold. 'You're trying to minimise the danger but in your heart you know it exists.'
Unable to sit still, Laura rose and moved to the other side of the room. Her thoughts refused to obey her desperate attempt to clarify them; they were rioting, shooting from one thing she had heard to another, and never resting long enough for her to grasp anything she could hold on to even for a few seconds. Physically, too, she was labouring under the stress brought on by fear and uncertainty. It were frightening enough to know her own danger---and she did know it, for in spite of the derision exhibited just now she did in fact believe what Marilyn had told her---but to know of the probable danger to Mandy was something she could not bear to think about. What sort of reprisals did these barbarians indulge in? she wondered. Torture? Disfigurement? What were the police doing to allow this cult to survive? But hadn't Paul already explained? Custom, he had said, like Marilyn, was stronger than law. The police were fighting this cult and it would die in the end, but for now it was still fairly strong in these two places in Greece mentioned both by Paul and this girl who had hoped to become his wife. Restless, Laura dropped into the chair again and sipped her tea; it tasted like poison in her mouth.
'You're contemptible!' she could not help saying as she looked into hard eyes flecked with glittering points of ice. 'How can you belong to this pagan cult? You ought to have more sense!'
The blue eyes darkened as Marilyn seemed to lose a modicum of her composure, but she instantly regained it. 'I've already said I'm not admitting anything. You've assumed without having proof.'
'Proof?' with a glance of surprised contempt. 'Haven't you just provided enough proof... proof that you're... rotten?' The word ripped out, and Laura had no regrets even when it seemed that the other girl would rise and strike her across the face, so venomous did her expression become.
'You've no idea of caution, have you?' she snarled.
'From what you've been telling me caution won't serve any useful purpose.'
'Unless you use it practically... by leaving this island just as soon as you can get yourself and the child a flight.'
Laura said nothing. She still could not collect her thoughts, much less try to make a decision that would affect the lives of three people.
'I still can't believe...' Laura's voice drifted and she shook her head.
'You do believe it can happen,' stated Marilyn with a sneer of satisfaction. She regarded her hated enemy from above the cup and the slow-drawn-out smile was more detestable to Laura than the sneer. 'Think about what I've said,' she advised. 'But don't take too long about it. I'll do my best to stay the hands of these men, but I can't promise to stay them for more than a day at most.'
'A day!' exclaimed Laura, suddenly jerked from the near paralysis brought on by imaginative pictures of Mandy being kidnapped, kept prisoner. 'What can I do in a day?'
'Pack up and get out. It's urgent, woman! What must I do to convince you?'
'It c-can't be that... that urgent.' Laura clamped her teeth as her mouth began to tremble. Her whole body seemed gripped now, in merciless talons of fear. 'I must have time to think.'
The blue eyes glimmered shrewdly and the sneer became evident again. 'So at last you're beginning to accept the danger. Well, as I've said, I can keep the avengers at bay for a day... I think,' she added with a subtle threat. 'But a day at most.'
Laura shook her head dazedly. The fight seemed to be ebbing from every fibre, every single cell in her body and her mind. She was thinking of Mandy all the time, Mandy who had never given her or anyone else a moment's real anxiety, Mandy of the swift impulsive smile, the chubby freckled face, the gleam of mischief in her big brown eyes. Sheer terror brought Laura's teeth together again as she made a supreme effort to suppress the ague which was affecting her, bringing about a violent fit of shivering. Swiftly she rose, putting her cup down with a little bang. 'Please go,' she quivered, a hand on her heart. How it raced! Was this what happened before an attack? 'Leave at once!'
Marilyn rose and picked up her handbag. Triumph was clearly written on her face, the black hatred of jealousy in her eyes. 'What price your marriage to Paul now?' She spoke as if driven by some vicious force beyond her control. 'It'll not last much longer.' Marilyn walked to the door and opened it. 'There are two flights daily from here,' she said, turning round.
Laura stared at her for a long moment, yet again endeavouring to straighten out her thoughts. From the jumble emerged what should have emerged right at the start.
Paul would know what to do, Paul was friendly with Spiros Gavezas. There would be no danger. Her eyes brightened as a deep sigh of relief escaped her. So stupid to panic like that when she had her husband to support her, and the child he now called his own.
The lifting of the weight must have shown in her expression because she heard her antagonist say, 'You're very transparent. But let me give you one last warning; don't consult Paul about this.'
'And why not?' with a lift of her head which could only be described as arrogant. 'Why should I not consult the one person who will know of a way out of this?'
'Because,' answered the other girl slowly and deliberately, 'he too is in danger. He's the brother-in-law of the woman they want.' A pause, significant and interminable, before Marilyn continued, her voice like the low, gutteral echo from the back of a predator's throat, 'Do you want to see him maimed for life... or perhaps disfigured?' There was no waiting for an answer as Marilyn swung about and disappeared, leaving the door wide open behind her.
Mandy's laughter rang across the garden from the swimming pool. It was barely two hours since Marilyn had gone and yet, as if aided by some in-built medicatrix that soothed and calmed and made it possible for her to think logically and wisely, Laura had been able to make a decision. Not for herself was the deep anxiety, the fear of reprisal by men whom she branded as barbarians, throwbacks from the dark ages of paganism, but for the two people who meant so much in her life: Mandy whom she loved, and Paul whom she respected... whom she now wished she could love. If it wasn't for Phil...
'Mummy, are you coming in for a swim?' Lefki was sitting on the side of the pool, watching Mandy floating about with the aid of inflated arm bands. 'What have you been doing?'
Laura bit her lip, swallowing to free the ball of misery in her throat. She had been phoning the airport. Seats were available on a flight tomorrow at a quarter past three in the afternoon.
'I'll come in for a little while,' she called and went to change. The suitcase was on the bed, nothing in it yet, but so much revealed by the open lid, the way the ties had been taken out and spread down the sides and onto the bed.
She spent an hour in the pool, and no sooner had she come out than Pelaya, ready to go home, came over hurriedly to say that Laura was wanted on the telephone. Marilyn! There rose a sensation of physical sickness within Laura's stomach. She picked up the receiver from where it lay on the hall table and heard her husband's voice.
'Yassoo!' he greeted her and his voice sounded light and happy. 'How is everything?'
'Fine.' She swallowed hard but the sudden choking sensation was like a knot in her throat. 'You said you wouldn't be in at this time of the day.'
'The business went so well that it's finished! I'm ready to go off to the airport. I'll be home around half past eight.'
'Tonight?' Laura's heart lurched. 'Tonight, Paul?'
'Yes.' The voice seemed curt now and a small silence followed before he added, 'Yes, Laura, tonight.' Another pause. 'You don't sound too pleased.'
She caught her lip, tears stinging like needle points against her lids. He had assumed she was not happy at this cutting short of his visit to Athens. He thought she did not want him home...
'Of c-course I'm pleased,' she managed, and hoped the little stammer of nervousness had escaped his ears. 'Half past eight, you said?'
'That's right.' The curt inflection was still there.
'So dinner will be around half past nine?'
'At the earliest. I'll need to freshen up and change.'
'Of course.' Laura wished she could find something else to say.
'Goodbye, then.' Silence, and she thought he must have rung off. 'Is anything the matter?' A hint of concern overrode the former brusqueness. 'You're not saying much.'
'Er... no. I was taken by surprise.'
'Because I'm coming home earlier than planned?'
'Yes, that's right.' What kind of a stilted conversation was this? she thought, aware that she was trembling and that the tears had reached her lashes. 'I'd better go,' she said awkwardly. 'It's Mandy's teatime.'
'She's all right?'
The concern seemed deeper and Laura was swift to reassure him. 'She's fine... in her usual exuberant spirits.'
'I'm glad one of you is. I'll say goodbye again and be off.' The receiver clicked and Laura closed her eyes, all her composure gone again, all the calmed thoughts shooting about all over the place. What should she do? She could pack and be gone, could book in at an hotel somewhere in Heraklion and lie low until tomorrow...No, that wouldn't do at all. Paul would know she was still on the island simply because the first plane to leave tomorrow was the one on which she had booked, the one in the afternoon.
'Mummy!' Mandy sailed up to her, lifting her chubby face which was wreathed in smiles. 'Wasn't it a lovely swim?'
'Very good.'
'You didn't think I would learn as quick as that, did you?'
'Well, you did have your wings, darling.' 'Oh, I know, but I can swim without them. Daddy said I mustn't though, if he wasn't with me, so I did as I was told.' An imp of mischief danced in the wide brown eyes. Laura wanted to gather her up and weep against her shoulder.
It had rained heavily as the sun was going down and a cloying mist remained as the aftermath of the storm. Laura, after bathing Mandy and putting her to bed, had sat there reading until she had dropped off to sleep. Laura tucked the sheet into her back, dropped a kiss on the rosy cheek, and left the room. She was now on the verandah of her bedroom, hands idly resting on the wet rail, eyes staring unseeingly into the gloom. Somewhere out there were Paul's vineyards, and his orchards of citrus fruits, somewhere lost in a shroud of unidentifiable space. A void... and that was what she was in at this moment. A void of uncertainty. She could tell Paul everything and risk---what? His safety? And that of their child? Or she could act normally---if that were possible under the strain---and somehow get away tomorrow without his knowing. It might not be too difficult since when at home Paul's customary practice was to spend the whole of the afternoon in his study, and no one dared disturb him. Yes, this was the best way, the only way. She could manage to put the suitcases into the boot because there was a side door from the hall leading into the garage. The staff usually dallied over their lunch until about half past two. Luckily it wasn't one of the days when Mandy went to play school, so there would be no problems in that direction.
Time went by with tedious slowness but at last glancing even yet again at her watch, Laura turned into the room, and began stripping off in readiness for her shower.
She was dressed and sitting in the salon when she heard the car grind to a halt on the loose gravel of the forecourt. Paul strode in, globules of moisture on his fair hair where the mist had managed to settle for the short time it took to get from the car to the front door. Tall and distinguished, erect and lithe-limbed, he was everything any woman could have wished for---and more! Something she had never before experienced stole through her veins; something indescribable plucked at her heartstrings. Quivers strange and pleasant spread like the touch of warm fingers along her spine. For the moment she forgot her problems, forgot she would not be here this time tomorrow. A smile came to her lips; it shone in her eyes. But Paul didn't happen to be looking, for he had drawn a handkerchief from his pocket and was wiping his face, then the front of his hair.
'It's a foul night,' he said.
'We needed the rain, though.' Her pleasure was dying, crushed beneath the weight that was fast descending again. She knew the light had gone from her eyes, and felt that a precious moment had been lost during that brief space when he had been using the handkerchief. For the smile of welcome and pleasure had died too; and under the strain that was pressing down on her, she felt awkward, unable to act in any way naturally, so her voice and words were stilted as she added, 'You had a good flight over?'
Paul eyed her thoughtfully for a long moment and, disconcerted, she lowered her eyes. It never dawned on her that he would think she had no wish to look at him.
'Very comfortable, thanks,' was his brief rejoinder when at last he spoke. 'I'll go and shower,' and without another word he left the room.
Dinner was a quiet meal, with Paul morosely glancing at his wife from time to time, and Laura sunk in the misery of her own thoughts. She felt the food choking her and left much of it on the plate, a circumstance that did not go unnoticed by her husband, who said, as Demetrius took the plate away after asking if she had finished, 'You appear to have lost your appetite, Laura.'
The chill in his tone only added to her misery. She wanted to cry; more than that, though, she wanted to open up her heart and mind, to tell him of her fears, for him and for all of them, in fact. But she knew that he would probably minimise the danger, refusing to be intimidated. He'd adopt an attitude which in her eyes would be reckless. No, she could not open up and confide; she must keep to her decision and leave here. It never dawned on her at this time that by leaving, she was certainly not changing Paul's relationship to Irene; he would still be her brother-in-law and so, if there were any danger, it would still be there. No, this never even crossed her mind; all she could think about was the advice given her by Marilyn, which was for her to leave the island while she and Mandy were safe. By natural reasoning she assumed Paul would also be safe.
'Laura...' Paul's voice came softly but the coldness was still there. 'I've spoken to you.'
She caught her underlip between her teeth. This drifting off in thought was certainly not improving her husband's mood.
'I'm not very hungry,' she said and produced a thin smile. 'I expect you are hungry, though?'
'A bit. I didn't eat on the plane. I was dozing.' The blue eyes were piercing as they looked into hers. 'Something's wrong, isn't it?' he said.
She shook her head instantly. 'No, of course not,' she returned, faintly surprised when the denial passed unchallenged.
During the rest of the meal they said little to one another, and although the silence was sheer misery to Laura, she was so full she could not possibly manage to make conversation. Her brooding mind drifted from the heartache she was causing to all three of them by her decision, to the more immediate awareness that Paul would most surely want her tonight. And, in her present mood, she knew she could never let him make love to her. No, not tonight, when she was planning to leave him only hours afterwards.
The hour that passed after dinner was an even greater ordeal, with Paul silently and broodingly sitting there, in the deep armchair, drinking his coffee and cognac. He frowningly looked at his watch several times until, at last, having finished his drinks, he rose from the chair and said, 'I'm tired. I've had a long day.'
She rose too, her heart pounding against her ribs. How was she to put him off, should he decide to come to her? He had said, though, that he was tired, so perhaps he'd just say good night and go to his own room.
But instead he said, staring at her through narrowed eyes, 'I'll see you later.'
'Y-yes.' She watched him go, then followed slowly. If only he hadn't come home early...
She was standing by the window, looking out on to the dismal scene of the shadowed, mist-laden garden, when he entered the room through the communicating door. She did not turn because she feared she would cry, break down completely under the sheer weight of the desolation which pressed down on her. Vaguely she knew it had started to rain again, suddenly, and with increasing force that caused bubbles to burst in crystal sprays against the window. So bleak... all in her life was bleak, without light to show her what the future held for her and the child she was now legally able to keep. For it was not feasible that Paul would want her, even though he was now her legal father. No, Mandy was hers and hers alone; she would have to work for her, make sacrifices...
'Laura, come over here to me.' The command was spoken in low but unmistakably authoritative tones, and reluctantly she turned, lips quivering as she made a desperate effort to stem the tears locked in a painful cloud behind her eyes.
'Yes, Paul...?' She had no idea why her manner was questioning since it was plain what he wanted.
'What has happened while I was away?'
'Nothing... nothing at all. I've already said so.'
'But not very convincingly.' His blue eyes were searching and she dropped hers to hide her misery. She was thinking of the note she had already written. Just a few words to say that she now regretted her marriage and was returning to her own country. She wanted only to be with Phil; she hoped Paul would divorce her. That was all, except for her name at the bottom of the page.
She had realised that he loved her and knew he'd be inexpressibly hurt, but better that than he should suffer some permanent injury inflicted by maniacs with evil in their blood. How she hated them---these Gavezas brothers who seemed to think there was no crime in taking the law into their own hands.
Laura glanced up into a face on which harsh lines were etched, and a quiver of pain went through her. Paul had never looked at her like this before, and she wondered what he was thinking.
'There really is nothing the matter,' she persisted. 'I don't know why you should be like this, Paul.'
The blue eyes glinted as his mouth compressed. 'You're putting on an act,' he accused. 'Your whole manner is different from what it was before I went away. You've changed dramatically in a matter of days and I demand to know why!'
'I can't explain!' she cried, almost at the end of her tether now. 'Leave me alone, will you? Go away and leave me alone!' She was losing control, carried along by ragged nerves to a state of near hysteria.
Paul stared, all anger gone. He shook his head in a gesture of bewilderment. 'Laura, dear, what is it? I'm your husband and whatever you have on your mind is my worry too.' He came towards her, hands outstretched. She closed her eyes, one part of her desperate for the comfort of his arms while the other part wanted to reject him, for she felt she wanted to be alone.
And it was in this moment that she realised she loved him...
'Take no notice of me,' she managed to say at last as she lifted limpid eyes to his gaze. 'I... don't feel too well.'
His eyes flickered; she felt sure he did not believe her. 'In what way?' he asked, his hands still outstretched.
'It's just... er... my head. It... it's ached all... all day.' Not at all convincing, she admitted, and was not in the least surprised to see the hardness darken his face again.
'Where is all this leading?' he demanded, taking a step which brought him closer to her. 'Are you telling me to clear off?' Dangerously quiet the voice now and his eyes raked her body with sensuous disregard for her embarrassment as she spread her hands over the transparency of the nightdress, sliding them downwards. Mocking amusement mingled with the hard glitter in his eyes. 'Come here,' he ordered softly, and for a moment she hesitated. 'Come here,' he repeated, and this time Laura obeyed him.
His arms came out and she was pulled against his body in a way that lacked both gentleness and respect. She struggled instinctively even while knowing it was futile. The action seemed to inflame him, and when his mouth met hers the kiss was as brutal as the hands that imprisoned her so securely that she was part of him, her body forced to meld with his. She gave a little moan as his ruthless fingers bit into her flesh, and renewed her fruitless struggles.
Furiously he took hold of her wrists, forced them behind her back, then held them with one hand. He towered above her, wrathful and forbidding. Laura tried to speak but his mouth locked with hers while his body's tautness made her vitally aware of its hunger for the possession of hers. Hard and male and virile, his lean lithe frame dominated her by its strength. She felt small and weak and totally in his power. The fingers imprisoning her wrists relaxed their hold and slipped her nightdress from her shoulders. She had no strength left to fight him; in any case her own erotic nerves had been awakened, and she knew the heady sensation of desire even before his hand slid warmly over her firm young breast, the fingers teasing and caressing---far more gentle now, as if what he handled was like some precious piece of porcelain, fragile and beautiful. He looked into her eyes briefly as his lips left hers to kiss the rosy little bud that had hardened to desire. A shudder of ecstasy ripped through every nerve as she felt his teeth against it and then his tongue, rough and yet so gentle. Desire spread and her loins craved his caresses; she managed to bring her hands up to his neck and felt him jerk with a spasm of pleasure as she caressed his nape with one hand while the other slid into his thick, wiry hair.
'What was the matter at first?' The voice was throaty and low and he did not expect an answer because his lips were fastened to hers instantly, moving moistly, sensuously, making her part them, and the next moment his tongue was caressing hers. Nor were his warm hands idle; they slid from her breasts to her waist and down to her thighs, bringing her alive in a way that set her heart pounding and the blood drumming in her temples. Her whole body was on fire, arching in surrender, shaping itself to his virile masculine curves while his hands continued their exploration, sparing her nothing in their mastery or their strength.
'Paul... oh, Paul...' Her yielding body clamoured for him, and he held her away to let the nightdress fall to the floor. Then he swung her up into his arms as if she were weightless, laughed at her blushes as he carried her across the room to the king-size bed, and laid her on top of the covers. She watched with burning cheeks as he discarded his dressing gown and pyjamas. Then he stood for a fleeting moment as if he would give her a glimpse of his body shorn of all covering. She closed her eyes slowly, felt him lie down beside her, knew the thrill of his arms cradling her against his naked frame, smelt the heady, tantalising aroma of his maleness as it blended with the cologne he had used before coming to her. Love play was long as Paul, with practised finesse, brought her to complete surrender, and for the first time since their marriage she gave her body to him with love as a bonus.
Could he know? she was asking herself when, after the fire had died and only embers smouldered in their bodies, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, heat cooling, nerves and heartbeats settling in that glorious aftermath of the flight to paradise. So frequently she had sensed his perceptiveness, and now she could not help considering the possibility that he knew she had fallen in love with him. For she had given far more freely than ever before, caressing his body, murmuring huskily against his mouth, his cheek, his breast.
The soft, creamy-rose bed-light had been deliberately left on, and she could see his face against the pillow as she turned her head. Nothing to be read from that contented countenance or the enigmatic half smile that curved the noble line of his mouth. For a long while she waited, thinking he would eventually open his eyes. It was only when she heard his even breathing that she reached over, switched off the light and, snuggling even closer to him, relaxed her whole body and hoped she would sleep.
'But Mummy, why must we go away from Crete? And why isn't Daddy coming with us?' Edged as it was with tears, Mandy's complaint was like a stab of pain in Laura's heart.
'I can't explain, darling,' she said. 'But it has just got to be like this. You and I will be together just like we were before, remember? It was nice and cosy, and we used to have fun at the zoo or when we went on holiday and played on the sands...'
Laura's own voice trembled as tears filled her eyes. She was sitting next to Mandy on the plane and conscious of noise and shuffling, of heat and bodies and people walking up and down the aisles to relieve the boredom. When Paul had brought them over to Greece they had travelled first class. Well, those days were over; they would never travel first class again---in fact, they would be lucky if they ever travelled at all, she thought, wondering if the hopes she had of getting her job back would soon be crushed. But at least she had a home. Thank goodness for that especial piece of luck. No one had been interested enough to buy her Mews house.
'It was all right then,' agreed Mandy but went on to say, 'But it wasn't as happy as when we were at Daddy's villa, was it? I don't want to go back to England; I like Greece best because it's warm and because of the lovely garden I could play in with Lefki and Pelaya and---'
'As we're passing through a region of turbulence, will all passengers fasten their seat belts?' The interruption brought a frown to Mandy's face.
'Mine's already fastened,' she said.
'Yes... well, you wanted to keep it on, didn't you?' What was everyone doing back at the villa? Had Paul read her note yet? She had left it in his bedroom in a sealed envelope and hoped none of the servants would go in there before Paul did. He had been busy in his study as usual, and she knew that at half past three he had an interview with a business associate who was calling at the house. So it was debatable as to whether or not he had found the note yet.
'Mummy, you haven't fastened your seat belt.'
'Oh, no...' She fastened it, annoyed that her mind kept on wandering.
'I don't want to go back to England,' repeated Mandy fretfully as she wriggled in her seat. 'You never even let me say goodbye to Daddy, and he'll wonder where I am.'
'He knows where you are.'
'I don't think he does,' decided Mandy, and Laura slanted her a glance. Intuition, at this age?
Well, Mandy was highly intelligent, exceedingly so for her age.
'It's landing,' with a heavy sigh as Mandy dug fingers in her ears. 'Can I telephone my daddy when we get home?'
'No, I'm afraid not.' Was Mandy going to be awkward? Laura felt she had enough to contend with and could very well do without tantrums from the child, who quite innocently was the cause of all this heartache.
'I'm filled with self-pity,' she told herself, 'and it's got to stop!' There were plenty of people a good deal worse off, she thought, when at last the taxi had dropped them at their destination, and a fleeting tinge of excitement lightened her spirits at the idea of seeing her delightful little home again. She noticed a car parked a few yards away but took no notice. It was nothing unusual because most of the residents had no garages.
But, with her key in her hand she paused outside the half-open door.
'Someone's inside,' said Mandy unnecessarily. 'I can hear them talking.'
Gingerly Laura pushed the polished oak door inwards.
'And this is the smaller bedroom. The owner had it for her little girl, hence the animals and fairies on the wallpaper.'
The estate agent---with a prospective purchaser. Tensed and yet untroubled to a certain degree, Laura went in, followed by the taxi-driver carrying two large suitcases in addition to the two smaller ones carried by Laura and the cabin bag which Mandy was struggling with.
'Miss Hudson! What... !' The man, Mr. Scott, gaped at her for a few seconds and then looked at the taxi-driver. 'These people are viewing the property; they're the parents of---'
'So I see.' Laura felt embarrassed but soon regained her composure. After all, it was her house and no one was going to take it from her. The sense of possession was fiercely portrayed in her words as she told the agent the house was not now for sale.
'I'm sorry for any inconvenience I've caused,' she went on, impatient to pay the taxi-driver and see him leave. 'I shall of course pay you---' She stopped as the man lifted a hand.
'The house is sold, Miss Hudson---Oh, I'm sorry. You were married before you left, weren't you?' He was regarding her strangely---as well he might, thought Laura, the colour rising in her cheeks.
'Sold?' She shook her head. 'It can't be. You're still showing people over.' Turning, she paid the driver after telling him to put the cases into the small bedroom which, like the main bedroom, was on the ground floor, the sitting room and kitchen with its pretty dining area being situated on the floor above. Laura had planned it that way so as to get a rather attractive view from the sitting-room window.
'Thank you, madam,' said the driver, pleased with the tip she had given him.
'The house is sold.' It was the woman who spoke, a big woman with painted cheeks, protuberant eyes, and brittle, red-gold hair with dark roots.
'This lady and gentleman are the parents of the bride... A young couple are buying your property,' cut in the agent with a mixture of indignation and regret. 'It's plain that you've come back intending to move in, but the young couple are being married in three weeks and will be moving in immediately afterwards.'
'They'll be moving in at once,' interposed the man, stocky, middle-aged country-yokel type with a slur to his voice. 'They've things ready to bring.'
Laura's heart had given a great lurch and for a space she just stood there, regarding the three wordlessly and feeling like an animal at bay. 'I haven't signed any contract,' she said, and received the response she expected.
'You gave the manager of my firm authority to sign for you. I'm sorry, but the contract's binding.'
'So please take yourself off our property,' snapped the woman with an arrogant wave of her hand. 'Go on, buzz off!'
Black fury coloured Laura's cheeks. 'You get off my property!' she cried, fists clenched as if it would not take much to incense her into giving the woman a blow. 'This is my home and I haven't sold it---so clear off, the three of you!' It was all quite irrational and belligerent, she knew, deep down in her subconscious, but she still felt like the victim of some onslaught, with her back to the wall. For if she couldn't stay here, then where would she go? God, what could she do! No home, and with a child in her care, a child who was even now starting to cry as she tried to take in the meaning of what was going on.
'I want to go back to Greece, Mummy!' she whimpered, gripping her skirt but looking up at the woman with the frowsy hair. 'I don't like this house any more.'
'Hush, love.' Laura pushed her away and faced the estate agent. 'You say the contract's already signed, but what is the date of occupation?'
'Well... I haven't any idea---but my manager has. If you'd been in occupation, then there'd have been an agreed date for you to vacate the premises.'
'I see.' She was faintly calmer now. 'Well, Mr. Scott, you can take it that I am in occupation, because if you hadn't been here at this precise moment, I should have moved into my home, shouldn't I?'
'Er... yes, I suppose so,' he had to agree.
'Then I am asking you to take these people away until some date has been agreed for me to hand over the house.' Although pale, and inwardly quivering, she felt that at least she was giving herself a respite. What would be the final outcome she did not know, but for a week at least she and Mandy had somewhere to lay their heads.
'I won't agree to this woman's idea of staying in our property!' said the woman in a harsh and grating tone. 'I demand that you get her away, and those suitcases along with her!'
'Mummy, what's the matter?' Mandy's face was wet with tears. 'Why is that lady telling us to go? It's our house!' she cried, the big brown eyes flashing with temper. 'You go away! We don't want you in our house, so go on, through that door!'
'Mandy, dear, please be quiet. Mummy will sort this out.' She looked at the agent again. 'Please take them away,' she requested quietly. 'I shall call your office in the morning after I have seen my solicitor.' She stood aside but no one moved. 'I am not being driven from my home,' she stated, and the emphasis in her voice was certainly noted by Mr. Scott. 'Possession will be given if, as you say, the contract is binding. But immediate possession certainly will not be given... nor can it be claimed.'
'You weren't here!' began the man but Mr. Scott raised a silencing hand.
'We must leave,' he said. 'This lady has the right of possession until a mutual arrangement is agreed as to the date your son and his wife take over.'
'But---'
'It's the law, Mr. Pemberton, so please don't cause any further unpleasantness. Come along and we'll talk in the office.'
The woman passed Laura first, her eyes bulging more than ever. Her husband glowered at Laura too, while Mr. Scott went past her without even a glance. With a sigh of relief Laura closed the door and slipped the bolt into place as an added security. She sagged against it and shut her eyes.
'Are you crying, Mummy?' Mandy's eyes were brimming with tears, and as she heard the sob in her voice, Laura felt as if her heart would break.
'What have I done?' she whispered convulsively. 'Oh, God, what have I done?'
'I want my daddy!'
'Take your coat off, darling.' Laura's nerves were tight and she hoped again that Mandy was not going to give her trouble.
'I don't want to stay!'
'We have to stay for a little while.'
'And then can we go back to Daddy?' Mandy had stopped crying but tears sparkled on her lashes. On impulse Laura bent down, hugged her to her breast, and kissed her pale cheek.
'It's going to be all right soon,' she promised, marvelling that she could produce a smile. 'Just be a good little girl for me and then you will see---we shall be very happy.'
Mandy opened her mouth, then closed it again. It was an hour later when, after having to rush out to buy food and other necessities from the late-closing supermarket, Laura was standing by Mandy's bed, that the little girl said, 'We're never going to see Daddy again, are we?'
'Darling---'
'I know we're not...' Mandy slid down beneath the covers and buried her face in the pillow.
It was almost ten o'clock when, having at last got Mandy to sleep and unpacked the suitcases, Laura sat down to a supper of salad and cheese, for although she had no appetite, she felt she must eat something. Mandy had had a snack earlier but at that time Laura had even less stomach for food than she had now.
She was just finishing the salad when the loud ringing of the doorbell made her jump. Frowning, she got up, dismissing the idea that it could be Paul, because there was no flight he could have taken that would bring him here that quickly. That he would eventually come she had no doubt, but she had her answer ready. She would not come back to him because she did not love him and never could. She was still in love with Phil and would marry him just as soon as Paul agreed to divorce her. Perhaps he would not believe her; perhaps he would cause a scene. But Laura would cross those bridges when she came to them. One thing was for sure: nothing would induce her to return to Crete and put her husband in danger.
'You!' she was exclaiming when, having opened the door, she saw Phil standing there on the step. 'But how---what---?' She broke off, floundering.
'I saw the light and wondered if there'd been a breakin. I had taken a short cut---' It was Phil's turn to stop. 'What are you doing here, anyway? You and your husband over on a visit?'
She shook her head, and opened the door wider. 'Won't you come in, Phil? I'm quite alone... except for Mandy.'
'Alone?' He stared at her bewilderedly.
'Come in and I'll explain.' She had not imagined that she could be this glad to see the man who had let her down so badly. But his very presence was a balm; she wanted to talk to someone, for the silence had been driving her mad, the silence and the merciless intrusion of one anxious thought after another until her head seemed to be filled with hammers and she could almost have screamed.
'Sit down,' she invited when he was in the living room. 'Sorry I haven't anything to offer you---not even a glass of sherry.'
'I'll have a cup of coffee if you're making one, but no hurry.' His eyes were on her, fixing her gaze. She asked him again to sit down, which he did. 'What's gone wrong?' he wanted to know. 'Why are you here with Mandy? Where's Paul?'
'I've left him.' She moved towards the kitchen. 'I'll make the coffee,' she said. 'I've just had a snack and could do with a drink after it.' She disappeared and he rose and followed, to stand in the doorway leaning on the jamb, one hand thrust into his jacket pocket.
'Left?' he echoed incredulously. 'Are you serious?'
'I'd not joke about a thing like that.' Turning, she picked up the kettle to fill it. It had been left behind, luckily.
'When did this happen?'
'We arrived about three hours ago.'
'I thought this place was up for sale.'
'It was. It's now been sold.' She switched on the kettle and reached for the coffee. 'The people who've bought it wanted to take over at once---when they saw me, that was.' She dropped two coffee bags in the pot, which had also been left behind.
'I don't understand? If this place is sold---'
'Sit down, Phil. I'll explain everything over a cup of coffee.' She hadn't meant to be impatient but nervous tension was causing her to act out of character.
'I'm almost out of my mind,' she was saying finally, after she had spent ten minutes or so explaining all that had happened.
Phil drained his coffee cup and leant forward to put it on the table. 'Are you telling me you left your husband for a reason like that?' he queried at last.
'It's serious, Phil. I should have thought I'd put that over to you.'
'The only thing you've put over to me is that you're not right in the head. Never have I known you to act irrationally but this---' He broke off and spread his hands. 'The whole thing's so crazy it's unbelievable.'
'My husband would have been in danger---maimed, perhaps, and you say I've acted irrationally? Why, it was the only sensible way to deal with the situation!' Her eyes flashed indignantly and colour had fused her cheeks. 'The only sensible way!' she repeated with emphasis.
'The only sensible way was to go to your husband, tell him the whole, and let him decide what to do.' Phil looked at her as he had never looked at her before. 'If I were your husband I'd tan your backside for doing a thing like this!' Sternness tightened his mouth and lent a forbidding aspect to his eyes. 'Do you suppose he's going to read that note, tell himself that it's all over, toss the note into the wastepaper basket, and forget he was ever married to you?' Phil shook his head in a gesture of asperity. 'What in heaven's name got into you, Laura?'
She frowned, frustrated that she could not convince him of the seriousness of the situation. 'It so happens that I now love my husband,' she began.
He interrupted her to say laconically, 'I have already gathered that. If it were otherwise you'd not have put yourself into such a panic, allowed yourself to be motivated by fear and the threats of some jealousy-crazed woman into running from your husband and your home. What exactly were your plans once you'd come here, bringing Mandy with you?'
'I haven't any plans as to a home now, but I feel I might get my job back. It was a blow to find that this place has been sold. I'll have to try to rent something.'
'Make some more coffee,' he recommended, his voice curt with impatience. 'Black---we both need it!'
She rose, but on reaching the kitchen door she turned. 'What makes you so troubled anyway? It's my affair entirely.'
'Yes, it's your affair,' he agreed, 'but, Laura, you and I have been very good friends, and although I was mad at you for not falling in with my way of thinking about marriage, I'm not the fellow to bear a grudge and say gloatingly that all this was coming to you, that it serves you right. No, I still admire you---' He stopped and drew an impatient breath. 'No, I'm damned if I admire you at this moment, because you're a fool! However, I'm still your friend and I feel I have a duty to help you.'
'In what way, Phil? Can you think of any possible way out of this sale---of my house, I mean?' Laura moved into the kitchen.
'Forget the house!' he exploded. 'Your place is with your husband, and I'm going to take you right back---'
'Never! If that is your idea of help, of friendship, then I don't think much of it! I shall never go back and put Paul in danger!'
'If he was in danger, then he's in danger now, you idiot! He's still Irene's relative.'
In the act of filling the kettle again she put it down with a little bang. 'I never thought of that,' she whispered fearfully.
'You never thought of anything from what I can gather,' he said disparagingly. 'Do you know, Laura, I'm beginning to think I had a very narrow escape. You haven't a brain in your head!'
'If you can do nothing but insult me,' she seethed, 'then you can---'
'I haven't any intention of going, so you can hold your tongue! If I have to stay here all night, I intend to make you see sense.' He had come to the door again and was standing as before. 'Do you realise you haven't one thread of proof that these Greek brothers intend to do anyone any harm other than Irene? She's the one meriting punishment---according to their doctrine. And do you suppose they would hurt a little child?'
'Marilyn convinced me, and she should know because she herself is a believer in the vendetta.'
'Rubbish! It's all too farfetched for anything but treating with the derision it deserves.' Impatiently he moved into the other room again.
'You forget, Phil, that Paul was troubled about what might happen to Irene.'
'To Irene, yes! I've heard of the vendetta and at one time these rules this old flame of Paul's mentions probably existed, but I won't believe that in this day and age such barbarian practises exist. What about the police?'
'It's said they try to stamp it out but they have to proceed cautiously.'
'Well, according to you they might not proceed at all!'
Laura sighed and made another pot of coffee. 'We don't seem to be getting anywhere,' she said plaintively. 'I had hoped you'd be able to conjure up some practical way of helping me.' Picking up the coffeepot, she carried it into the other room. Phil was by the window; he had pulled back the curtain and was looking down into the attractive thoroughfare of South Berkeley Mews.
'The only way, which also happens to be the most practical, is for you to return to your husband. You have no right to rob Mandy of a father.'
Laura's glance was swift and accusing. 'You've changed your tune! It's not so long since you'd have robbed her of both parents!'
'Let's not stir up mud that's settled.' He swung around impatiently. 'Laura, you must go back! Do you hear me?'
'Never,' she returned briefly.
'Then tell me, what are you intending to do?'
'Try for my old job, and if that should fail, I feel sure I can get a similar one, having worked for David Hendrick. As for somewhere to live...' Her voice trailed and Phil recognised the signs. She had been holding up, putting on an act which was all bravado, and now she was almost at breaking point, just as she had been on his arrival.
'You have somewhere to live. You have a home.'
'For a couple of weeks at most,' she said.
'Don't play games,' he snapped. 'You know damned well what I mean!'
'This is the only home I have.' Angrily she brushed a hand over her eye, and Phil looked at her perceptively.
'Crying won't help you much,' he said brusquely. 'It's action you want, my girl!'
'Your coffee's getting cold,' she said and he sank into the low armchair beside which was a small occasional table on which Laura had placed his coffee.
But he did not take it up; he sat staring at her in thoughtful silence, noticing the dark smudges beneath those pure sapphire eyes, eyes which themselves seemed faintly darker because of the anxiety and distress that lay within their depths. He sighed heavily, wondering if there was any way he could get her husband's telephone number out of her. Then something made him say, 'Does Paul know you love him?'
'He might have guessed.'
'You've not told him?'
She shook her head. 'I believed I was still in love with you,' was her candid rejoinder.
'And I suppose you were the honest little wife and told him so?'
'Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.'
'You're a bigger fool than I thought.'
She moved restlessly. 'Can we keep to the important things?' she begged. 'Phil, there must be some way of my being able to hold on to my home.' She paused but he seemed too impatient to pass comment. 'Have you any ideas?' she persisted.
'Just one.' Paul's voice was brusque.
'I can't go back,' she began. 'I'm not taking any risks with my husband's safety.'
'Do you suppose he's going to take this lying down?'
'Oh, I expect he'll come---'
'He's probably on his way now,' interrupted Phil in a warning voice, but Laura was shaking her head.
'There isn't a plane he can get.'
'There's no difficulty in chartering a private plane.'
'He'll not do that,' stated Laura with conviction, 'not after the note I left.'
He fixed her gaze curiously. 'You mentioned the note, but you didn't say what was in it.'
She told him, heard the low-toned expletive which was followed by a long silence.
'Tell me,' he said at last, 'did you assume, when you left that note, that Paul would believe what it contained?'
'I hoped he would.'
'But you are not convinced,' was his immediate and sceptical observation. 'Mark my words, he'll be over here in quick time.'
'I've just admitted that I'm expecting him to come.'
Phil looked at her curiously. 'Aren't you afraid?'
'No, of course not.' But she went a trifle pale. 'He can't kill me.'
'Greeks are unpredictable, my dear, especially the Cretans... even those who don't believe in the vendetta. Paul will most likely half kill you, and I must say I wouldn't blame him.'
'Kindly don't be personal!' she flashed.
'And you don't be trite,' he chided. 'When Paul does come,' he continued after a moment of thought, 'what are you going to say to him?'
'I have an answer ready...' Her voice trailed away to silence. She decided not to tell Phil of her plan for putting her husband off. However, Phil was certainly not to be put off, and his manner was surprisingly domineering as he asked her to go on with what she had begun to say. She frowned and shook her head, saw him ease himself from the depth of the armchair and advance slowly towards her. His voice was unexpectedly low and threatening when he spoke, and she was confronted with the humiliating knowledge that he was treating her like a naughty child who needed chastisement.
'Laura, I've been exceptionally patient with you up till now, but if you don't finish what you were saying, I'll shake you until you do. You've made more than enough mistakes already, and if I'm to help you, then I must know everything.'
She coloured and paused, but presently gave a shrug of resignation and began, 'I shall tell him that what I put in the note was true. I shall say I still love you and want a divorce so that we can be married. I might even own to using him so that I could adopt Mandy...' Her blush deepened at his astounded and disgusted expression, and she hastily averted her face. 'That should convince him, and make him agree to a divorce. No man with any pride at all would hold on to a woman who had freely confessed that she was in love with another man and wanted her freedom so she could marry him, would he, Phil?' Tears were stinging her eyes at the thought of what she intended doing to the man she loved. He would hate her, not ever knowing that she was making a sacrifice that was crucifying her.
'What will help'---she quivered, rising from the chair without knowing why---'is that, all along, I've been telling him I can never love him.' She swayed beneath the impact of her own heartbreaking emotions, and Phil, thinking she was about to faint, went to her in a couple of swift strides and caught her by the arms. On impulse she buried her face in his coat and gave herself up to an abandonment of tears. But she soon recovered. 'Oh, Phil, I...' Slowly her voice failed.
Phil watched the colour ebb from her face, replaced by an unhealthy ashen tinge; he saw a terrified hand steal up to her cheek, her eyes dilating as they stared disbelievingly over his shoulder, as if at some ghostly apparition. Nerves prickling, he pushed her from him and swung around...
'Oh, my God!' he exclaimed. 'You! What a moment to arrive!' Phil cursed fate as he looked into a face like thunder. 'How much did you hear?' he was compelled to ask, even though he knew the answer, instinctively guessing that Paul had been standing there for several seconds.
'Enough!' snarled Paul, striding purposefully into the room.
Laura, backing away, strategically knew an hysterical inclination to laugh but instead she asked, in low disjointed accents, 'Paul... er... how d-did you get in... I m-must have left the d-door open after Phil--- Oh, don't you dare touch me!' White as a sheet now, Laura cowered away as if menaced by something evil.
Paul, incensed by what he had heard as he stood there beyond the living-room door, shot out a hand and gripped his wife by the wrist, jerking her from the corner into which she had shrunk in an instinctive attempt to get out of his way. He glowered down at her, eyes blazing with the fury that consumed him.
Laura stared, terrified and yet fascinated, her thoughts winging to her early conviction that Paul could be ruthless to the point of cruelty. Her eyes naturally flew to Phil, a plea for protection in their depths. Nothing could have added more fuel to the fire of her husband's towering rage and for one terrified moment Laura steeled herself, sure he would lose control and inflict some injury upon her. However, he did manage to control himself, and Laura sagged with relief, though she did wonder if the respite was only temporary. And, as if she were obeying some instinct for protection, she sank into a chair.
As for Phil---he just stood watching with interest, making no attempt to say anything.
'So you're in love with this man, are you---' Sheer fury seemed to rob Paul of speech for a space, and a smile touched the outline of Phil's mouth. His eyes slanted to the girl he had once wished to marry but whom he had recently admitted was not the one for him. She was staring, frightened. He wondered if she realised that her husband's wrath was rooted in jealousy. 'Well, woman, you do happen to be my wife, and it stays that way! Divorce---!' His glittering eyes raked her cowering form before moving to the man who was now nonchalantly leaning against the mantelshelf. 'You can forget it, both of you! This woman is mine, and I'll kill the man who tries to take her from me!'
Laura found her tongue. She glared at her husband, all else forgotten except the manner in which he had referred to her. 'I'm not your woman!' she seethed. 'I'll not be called---'
'By God, you are my woman!' The vivid blue eyes fixed hers as a tiger fixes its unfortunate prey. 'In Greece a wife is her husband's woman---'
'Just a figure of speech,' interposed Phil, deciding it was time he took a hand, especially as Laura was becoming enraged, and anything she said could only worsen the situation. 'It doesn't mean anything degrading.'
Paul turned on him. 'Get out!' he gritted. 'Or do you want me to throw you out!'
As Paul made a move towards him, Laura screamed out, 'Don't hit him! Paul, listen to me---'
'Let him get it out of his system,' recommended Phil in a mild untroubled tone. 'I don't suppose I'll die.'
Paul's hand fell to his side. 'You're a cool customer,' he rasped. 'Anyone would think you wanted that face of yours disfigured!'
'It would relieve your feelings,' returned Phil cheerfully. 'And I do understand how you feel, believe me. However, I'm convinced you'd derive far more satisfaction by tossing your addle-brained wife over your knee and giving her what she deserves.'
'My...' Paul's brow furrowed in perplexity. 'Just what is going on here? I've overheard enough to know that you and she want to get married, yet you're advising me to chastise my wife.' The frown deepened. 'Perhaps you'll explain,' he encouraged, eyes narrowing at the calm untroubled manner being adopted by the man who had been holding Laura in his arms only minutes before.
'Don't explain!' cried Laura swiftly. 'Phil, I forbid it!'
'Be quiet,' ordered her husband. 'I want to hear what this man has to say.'
'No... I... Oh, Paul, don't ask for explanations! Just accept that I love Phil and want to marry him---!'
'You are married,' thundered her husband. 'Just wait till I have you home---!'
'For God's sake be quiet, both of you!' Phil drew in his breath as if his patience were almost in shreds. He saw the expression slowly change on Paul's face, heard Laura's frantic plea for him to remain silent because she was sure he meant to tell Paul everything. He looked directly at her. 'You asked for my help,' he reminded her. 'I'm now going to give it---'
'No!' she cried again. 'I don't want...' Her voice faltered beneath the glowering threat of her husband's eyes.
He stared her out, compelling her to lower her eyes, and only then did he speak, to say in a dangerously soft tone of voice, 'If you interrupt again, Laura, I shan't be responsible for my actions.'
Blushing furiously, she subsided deeper into the cushions and listened to Phil relating everything to her husband. She heard little grunts of disbelief from time to time, was aware of Paul's glances, but she had no inclination to meet them. When at last Phil had finished, there was a long silence in the room.
'It's not credible,' said Paul when at last he brought the silence to an end.
'That's what I thought,' agreed Phil. 'She used to be so practical, so overendowed with common sense...' He broke off and shrugged. 'Good luck, Laura,' he said and moved to the door where he turned, a smile on his face. 'Invite me over sometime. I'd enjoy a holiday in Greece.'
The door closed quietly; the two stared at each other for a long moment before Paul, hands outstretched, asked her to come to him.
She obeyed, but said in choked and husky tones, 'I can't come back, Paul, and put you in danger. You do understand, don't you?' He said nothing and after a while she said hopefully, 'Perhaps we could live in England...' She tailed off. 'No?' she queried.
'No, my ridiculous, idiotic little wife, we cannot live in England.' His hands closed about her arms; he looked down at her from his superior height and slowly moved his head from side to side. 'What shall I do with you? I'm sure your old flame had a point when he advised me to beat you.'
She swallowed because her throat felt blocked. 'I wish my brain would work,' she complained, speaking her thoughts aloud in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
'Pity it didn't work a few hours ago,' he said drily.
'You're so calm,' she began. 'The danger's real,' she stressed.
'In your imagination very real, but in actual fact it doesn't exist. Phil was right when he told you that only Irene has merited punishment and that he couldn't see anyone deliberately harming an innocent little girl.' He paused to look at her with amusement not untinged with censure. 'What a lot of heartache you've caused, and none of it necessary.'
'You're just passing the danger off,' she insisted. 'I knew you would, and that's why I didn't come to you, why I chose to come away instead.'
'Haven't I just said the danger exists only in your imagination? Why you should have listened to Marilyn in the first place is something I shall never understand.
Surely, with your woman's intuition, you could see she was wildly jealous of you?' Laura said nothing; she had moved closer and her face was lifted, mouth parted and infinitely tempting. Paul gave a low laugh, then bent to kiss her. 'Everything she said to you was said in malice,' continued Paul, and now his eyes were glinting with anger. 'And most of it was lies. No one ever intended hurting anyone but Irene---and perhaps the man she went off with, but it would be Irene mainly. The Gavezas family are ruthless but only with those they either don't like or whom they employ. They're notorious for making their men earn their money. I have always got on very well with the father and, to a point, with the sons. They have absolutely nothing against me and as a result nothing against my family.'
'But you are Irene's brother-in-law,' began Laura, then stopped. 'You just said that doesn't matter, though.' She sighed. 'I can't think, Paul!'
'Then don't try, my darling. Just relax and let your husband think for you.' With a gentle hand he tilted her chin; his eyes were dark with tenderness as he touched her lips, caressing gently, teasing and possessing, moistly, demandingly, until she flung her arms around his neck and reciprocated with more than just her lips. It was some minutes later that he said, looking deeply into eyes dark and dreamy from his lovemaking, 'Why did you tell Phil you loved me and yet not tell me?'
'I found out only last night.'
'Last night.' He became thoughtful and, aware of what was running through his mind, Laura explained how she came to be so cold with him, both on the phone and afterwards. 'Yes, I understand,' he said, smiling to reassure her. 'I realise now that you were under a heavy strain, knowing you were leaving me within a few hours.' He paused, again thoughtful. 'Later, you didn't want me---'
'Not at first, darling,' she broke in to agree. 'But afterwards---oh, I wanted you so much.' She paused and coloured rosily. 'It came to me so suddenly the knowledge that I loved you, that is, but I think that, subconsciously, I must have known it before. When it did hit me, though, I felt so miserable.'
'You did?' with well-feigned surprise. 'The discovery made you miserable?'
'No, silly!' Laura gave a shaky laugh. 'The idea that I'd made the discovery only when I was leaving you forever.'
He held her away and looked down into her lovely face, an animated face now that came alive as a smile fluttered to her lips. 'And do you honestly believe I'd have let you leave me forever?' Paul's voice was noticeably dry.
She did not answer but asked instead, 'You're sure, Paul, dearest, that there really is no danger?'
'I am one hundred percent sure. Does that convince you?'
'Yes.' She nodded. 'Yes, Paul, I'm convinced now.' She sighed contentedly. 'Paul,' she murmured presently, 'did you believe what I put in the note?'
'As a matter of fact I just couldn't understand it at all. I sensed a mystery, and yet it was there in black and white. When I thought of the way you were when I arrived home, all that was contained in your note fitted. You didn't want me so had decided to leave and return to England and the man you'd been friendly with before. But when I recalled how you were later...' His voice faded and his eyes became tender. 'It seemed to me that you were in love with your husband after all, because, dearest, it was different from anything that had happened between us before. You gave so much last night and so nothing in the note made any sense. The only logical course was for me to come and find you, and here I am, only a few hours after your own arrival.'
'You guessed I'd be here?'
'It was the only place, wasn't it? I knew it wasn't yet sold---at least, you'd had no word that it was sold, but of course I now know it is, from what Phil said.'
She nodded her head. 'Supposing the people had taken over and I wasn't here?' She looked questioningly at him through her long, curling lashes.
'Darling.' He laughed. 'Does it matter?'
She had to laugh too, but although she agreed she did ask how he had proposed to go about finding her.
'I knew where you'd worked, and had I drawn a blank there I'd have contacted Phil, since I knew where he worked too. You mentioned it once to me.' He bent to take her lips in a long and passionate kiss, then held her from him. 'Do you know why I married you?' he said, and she remembered that on more than one occasion she had put this important question to him. She shook her head and received a playful slap on the behind. 'I think you do,' he said. 'I married you because I loved you.' He paused to give her the chance to say something but she remained silent. 'Almost from the moment you entered my house I was affected by you,' he went on to confess. 'You were different from any other woman I'd ever known. I just had to get to know you better, hence my invitation for you to stay at the villa.'
Laura still remained silent; she was thinking about her initial reception and now realised he was trying to appear indifferent, both to her personally and to her problem. But very soon he was becoming involved; Laura now knew that his love for her came swiftly, and being all Greek, he had to have her at once.
'You knew, didn't you, when I came home the first time, that we'd marry in the end?'
'I believed I'd found the woman who was to share my life and so could not believe she would escape me.'
Laura chuckled at his phrasing but in a moment became serious, her eyes clouding. 'If only Irene was all right, my cup of happiness would be full.' She sighed. 'But I shall always be scared for her safety.'
'I've been thinking about her,' he said, 'and as I have no intention of my wife carrying that kind of anxiety, I feel I must try to do something---'
'Something? You?' she had to interrupt. 'But what, Paul?'
'I am contemplating a rather big deal with Spiros which will be exceedingly profitable to him... and to his sons,' added Paul significantly. 'Now, if I make a certain condition, which is that they drop this stupid and criminal intention of harming your sister---should she be located, that is---or the deal is off...'
Laura looked up at him, her expression faintly dazed. 'You'd lose, though,' she told him unnecessarily, and before he could answer, 'You'd do this for my sister?'
He shook his head, mouth compressing. 'Not for her,' he returned emphatically. 'I'd let her take what's coming to her because she deserves it. I'm doing it for you, Laura, because, as I've said, I'm not having you worrying, either about that or anything else.' Tenderly he touched her lips with his. 'I want my wife to be happy, always.'
'Dear Paul...' Love welled up within her, and for a moment she could not speak. And when eventually she did manage it, her voice was husky with emotion. 'Thank you, darling. Thank you very much.'
'Don't thank me, sweet; it so happens that my happiness depends entirely on your happiness, which in effect makes my motives selfish.'
She let that pass, naturally, and asked instead if he felt optimistic about his condition being accepted.
Paul nodded his head. 'I feel that Spiros will successfully convince his sons that the financial gain would be far more satisfying than the vengeance. They're a young, hotheaded pair, but I feel their common sense will prevail, and if not, their greed certainly will, because whatever else they lack, they're both equipped with keen discernment where anything to do with money is concerned.' Paul spoke with such confidence that Laura's mind was set instantly at rest. Irene would be safe.
'Perhaps she will find happiness one day,' was all Laura said. And then, as the thought occurred to her, 'Paul, which one of your servants do you think is the eavesdropper?'
'Which one of our servants?' he corrected with a slanting look of censure. 'Well, I rather think it'll turn out to be Demetrius.'
'I half suspected him as well,' she mused.
'That can wait...' Paul drew her close against his breast, tilted her face and took her lips, locking them to his own in a kiss that was as rough as it was tender, as possessive as it was reverent. One hand stole over her curves and she thrilled to its warmth on her breast, the lingering, light caress deliberately teasing on the nipple to ignite the erotic nerves of her body into a state of clamouring desire.
She strained against him, her own hands finding pleasure in their exploration; she felt his body thrill to the sensations she was creating for him, and a flood of happiness surged over her at the knowledge of her easy ability to arouse him. It was for one brief moment as if she were the victor, the one in control. But soon she became the suppliant, lost in the throes of spasmodic rapture as his other hand, progressing slowly downwards, caressed each tender curve until it had reached its goal. Desire rose to agonising heights which brought a little moaning plea from her lips. With a swift and gentle gesture he swept her supple frame into his arms, then stood for a long moment looking down at her face, an expression of infinite tenderness in his eyes.
He carried her to the bedroom, and because of their eagerness fulfilment came swiftly, their bodies uniting in wordless, sense-shattering rapture that left them breathless and spent and clinging so close that they were still as one.
'Darling...' Paul's voice was deep and throaty and very alien. 'Never leave me again---never as long as you live. Promise!'
'I promise,' she whispered close to his heart. And she added simply, because she suddenly wanted to hear herself say it, 'I love you, my dearest husband. I love you forever.'

