Beware of the Beast (8 page)

"Is good,
kyria
?"
suggested Maria shyly, and Charlotte could not deny her. It was the most beautiful room she had ever been expected to sleep in.

"Thank you, Maria, it's delightful," she said, dropping her bag and the vanity case on to a chair and moving across the room. A bowl of arum lilies occupied a position on the table
beside the bed, and she touched their waxy petals with a
certain sense of poignancy.

Maria bustled across the room and opened two more
doors. "Bathroom, dressing room," she indicated smilingly, obviously pleased by Charlotte's appreciation. "When suitcases arrive, Sophia will unpack for you."

"I can unpack my clothes," Charlotte protested, peering
into the dressing room which was easily as big as her bedroom
had been at Glebe Square. It possessed a bed too, and she
wondered why.

"Sophia will unpack for you," said Alex's voice, unexpect
edly deep and male after Maria's gentle tones. "Can we have
some coffee, Maria? I'm sure my wife is tired after the
journey."

Charlotte moved awkwardly back into the bedroom as
Maria smiled and went away, and Alex dosed the door behind
her with a definite little click.

"Well?" he said, surveying her unsmilingly. "So you like
rny
house."

In this at least Charlotte did not have to dissemble, and
she nodded, glad of the respite from other, more terrifying
topics. "No one could do otherwise," she answered truthfully.
"It's exactly the sort of place people dream of owning."

"Is it?"

Alex flexed his shoulder muscles rather wearily and then,
to her dismay, sat down upon the side of the bed. He took off his jacket and tie, throwing them carelessly aside, and then
stretched back on the silk coverlet, his arms above his head.

Then he became aware of how apprehensively Charlotte
was watching him, and a certain cynicism invaded his ex
pression; "Not yet, Charlotte!” he told her, with infuriating
perception. "Not when Maria might come back at any
moment. I shouldn't like to shock her."

Charlotte glared at him
frustratedly
. "Oh, you - you - I'm
going to take a
bath !"

"There's no lock on the bathroom door," he remarked
lazily, closing his eyes. "But don't worry, I won't come in."

"See you don't." Charlotte snatched up her vanity case and
marched towards the bathroom door. Then she hesitated,
some of her assurance dwindling away. "You — you really
won't come in, will you?"

Alex's eyes opened impatiently. "No, I really won't come in.
This
time!"

It was
marvellous
to strip off her clothes and get into cool
water. The glass shelves above the vast circular bath were
filled with crystal flagons of bath essence and body lotions, boxes of talc and dusting powders, all manner of fragrances
intended to make bathing a more delightful experience. Charlotte sprinkled the bath essence sparingly. She wanted no tempting perfume clinging to her skin, inviting Alex to
sample that silent inducement. Nevertheless, she did linger in
the scented water, hardly daring to look beyond the evening
ahead.

She heard sounds from the bedroom, and presently there
was a tap at the bathroom door. Her heart leapt into her
throat, and she snatched up the sponge to hold against her
breast. "What - what do you want?"

Alex's voice was cool and flat. "The
coffee's
arrived. I just
thought I'd let you know."

"Oh! Oh, well, thank you." Charlotte cleared her throat.
"I - I shan't be long."

"Be as long as you like," replied Alex, without interest.
"I'm going to get something rather more stimulating."

Charlotte frowned. What did he mean? Where was he
going? She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of the
bedrooom
door slamming behind him warned her that she would be wasting her time.

By the time she emerged from the bath and had dried herself
on one of the thick towels, and then dressed in the clothes she
had just taken off, the coffee had cooled considerably. But it
was still very refreshing. It was the Turkish variety, very
strong and very black, and it was exactly what she needed after the enervating relaxation of the bath. Maria had also
provided sweetmeats, tiny sticky confections, made of sugar and marzipan, to have with the coffee, but Charlotte couldn't
face them.

By the time she had drunk two cups of coffee, and unpacked
the contents of her vanity case, setting out her few cosmetics rather incongruously, she felt, on the dressing table, the light
was beginning to fade. Walking to the long windows, she
looked out on the shadowy garden, smelling the perfume from
some night-scented blossom, and hearing the murmur of
the sea from the cove. Dozens of insects were visible in the
light that streamed from windows back along the villa, and
when one particularly large moth with soft velvety wings flew
close to her window, Charlotte stepped quickly backward and
closed the panes.

Immediately the room felt airless, and she looked round
anxiously. Near the door, a switch intimated the presence of
electric lighting and she walked towards it with relief and
turned it on. But no light ensued, only a curious humming
sound, and after a moment's panic she realized she had
turned on the air-conditioning. Breathing deeply, she noticed
a lamp beside the bed. Surely she could not go wrong there.

The lamp cast pools of shadow in the lovely room. She
started as an army of insects began throwing themselves at the
window panes, and feeling tension increasing inside her she
went and quickly drew the curtains.

She glanced at her watch. It was almost eight o'clock and
she had not eaten since early that morning. Alex had arranged
for a champagne lunch to be served aboard the plane, but
apart from a glass of the bubbly liquid, which she had not
really enjoyed, she had had nothing. If Alex had noticed her
lack of appetite, thank goodness he had not commented upon
it in front of the other men, but now she was beginning to feel decidedly faint.

When a knock came at the door, she jumped once more,
and instead of inviting whoever was outside to come in, she
went and opened the door herself. One of the young women she had met earlier stood outside, either Sophia or Tina, she
wasn't sure which.

"I have come for the tray,
kyria
"
she said politely, her dark
eyes appraising Charlotte anew. "And
Kyrios
Alexandros
asks
that you join him in the
saloni
."

"
Alexandros
?"
Silently, Charlotte repeated the word. Then
realizing she was still being observed rather closely, she said:
"Thank you. Will you show me where the -
er
-
saloni
 
is
?".

Inclining her head, the girl gestured along the
halL
"If
you go to the hall,
kyria
,
you will find it easily."

Charlotte nodded, stepping back into the room as the girl
excused herself to pass her and get the tray. She didn't seem half
so
friendly as Maria, and Charlotte was not easy in her
presence. After the girl had gone, Charlotte examined her
appearance critically. Apart from
eyeshadow
and lipstick,
she was wearing no make-up, but in this heat too much make
up would soon cake upon her skin. Besides, she seldom wore
a foundation base and usually only creamed her face night
and morning.
          
.

Lamps were lit along the corridor which led back into the
main hall. The table was laid in the dining area, and Charlotte couldn't help admiring the finely woven lace mats and shining
 
silver and
crystalware
. She could smell food, and her stomach
was protesting noisily as Alex appeared through the arched
doorway to the right of the shallow stairway.

To her surprise she saw that he had shed the dark suit he
had worn for their wedding and their subsequent journey,
and was now coolly relaxed in cream silk pants and a dark
blue silk shirt. The shirt was open at the throat to reveal a
tiny gold medallion suspended on a fine gold chain, and she could see the brownness of his skin.

Apprehending her astonishment, he said:
"You forget, this
is my home."

Charlotte, still embarrassed by the uncontrollable impulses
of her stomach, managed to shake her head. "I didn't realize
you had changed, that's all."

Alex
gestured to her to enter the lounge ahead of him, and
as she passed him, he said quietly: "The room you are occupy
ing
was
never
my
room. I usually sleep in much less elaborate
surroundings.''

Charlotte glanced at him over her shoulder, her heart
at the look in his eyes. But then he moved away from her
:
to where a tray of drinks resided on a low carved
aisle,
and she was
able to regain a little of her composure.

“What will you drink?
'' he enquired, raising dark eyebrows
.
"Gin, scotch, vodka?
What do you prefer?"

Aware
of lie emptiness of her stomach and the fragility of her control over the
blind panic which was threatening to
engulf her, Charlotte refused to consider anything alcoholic. "
Er
- do
you
have a fruit juice?"

Alex regarded
her with exasperation. "Surely you do drink something! Sherry
perhaps,
or Martini?"

"I do - occasionally I have a drink," she conceded jerkily,
"but right now I'd prefer a fruit juice, if you don't mind."

"But I do mind very much. And as you're my wife
now, perhaps I should insist that you join me in having a gin
and tonic." Then, noticing the tautness of her whole body, the stiff way she held herself, as if afraid to relax in his presence,
he sighed.
"All right.
Orange or lemon?"

"Orange juice, please." Charlotte twisted her hands to
gether. "
Er
— do you think my luggage will be long?"

Alex handed her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, clinking with cubes of ice. "Not long.
Vittorio
and
Dimitrios
should be here soon after dinner. I'm sorry you couldn't change, too, but there'll be plenty of time for you to wear
the clothes Verna chose for you."

Charlotte took the glass he proffered and sipped at it
nervously. It was very cold and faintly sharp. Alex indicated
the couch beside her.

"Sit down," he directed, turning from the tray with his own
glass in his hand, liberally filled, she saw with dismay.

Charlotte sank down weakly on to the couch. In truth her
legs felt none too steady at that moment.