Greek Wedding (15 page)

They reached the deck to find it in a state of unusual bustle, with Mr. Biddock gazing pop-eyed over the side. Most of the crew seemed to be there too, and now Brown and another man leaned over the rail to steady the arrival on board of the prettiest
girl Phyllida had ever seen. Everything about her was perfect, from her golden ringlets to her exquisitely fitted travelling dress, but her smile, when she saw Brett, was best of all.

‘Brett!' She dropped the bandbox she had been carrying and hurled herself at him. ‘Darling, horrible B, are you all right?'

‘Of course I am, Jenny.' But Phyllida thought she heard a catch in his voice. Was he thinking, as she was, how nearly he had not been here to welcome his sister? ‘But'—he held her back to look her up and down with almost comic dismay—‘Jenny, you wicked little wren, what's happened to you?'

‘I'm grown up, love. Didn't anyone tell you? Not that they would! Anyway, I've come to keep house for you, now we're alone in the world. And what
you
meant,' she turned on Biddock with a fierceness suddenly reminiscent of her brother, ‘by not telling me Brett was right here all the time is more than I can understand.' She coloured a little and turned to Phyllida, who thought that, in fact, she probably understood very well. ‘You must be Miss Vannick. And Miss Knight?' She bobbed a charming schoolgirl's curtsy for Cassandra. ‘Mrs. Biddock told me about you.' Her colour was higher than ever, but she ploughed gallantly on, addressing Phyllida now. ‘Are you really going to charter the
Helena
to look for your brother? It's the most romantic thing I ever heard of. But, please, you'll let me come too? I'll be good as gold, I promise.'

Phyllida, looking quickly from one to the other, did not know whether Biddock or Brett was the more taken aback by this speech. Biddock she thought, was swearing to himself. Like her, he must realise that his wife had eavesdropped on their conversation and reported it to Jenny. And Brett? What would he be thinking? She smiled warmly at Jenny. ‘Of course you shall come,' she said. ‘If we go. But first you must persuade your brother to let me charter his yacht. He's been ill, you see. He knows nothing about it.'

‘Oh lawks!' She looked round the circle of surprised, admiring faces. ‘Have I put the cat among the pigeons again?' It did not seem to trouble her. ‘I do do it. But, darling, idiot B, you
are
going to let Miss Vannick have your yacht, aren't you, so she can search for her brother? And we three'—the bright, friendly gaze embraced Phyllida and Cassandra—‘will sit in a circle and chaperon each other, so that even Mrs. Biddock cannot cry “shame”.' She flashed a wicked glance at Mrs. Biddock's
husband, then back to her brother: ‘Dear, dreadful B, say yes.'

‘But, Jen, you don't understand. I'm penniless. I can do nothing for you…'

‘Idiot! Why do you think I came? When uncle told me he'd stopped your allowance I went straight to Mr. Coutts and asked for Mother's jewels. He gave them to me too, though he said it was “against his better judgment”, bless his heart. You'd forgotten about them, hadn't you? We can live on them for ever. Those detestable ruby ear-rings paid my passage, and here are the rest—' She retrieved the bandbox and handed it to him. ‘You can take care of them now. I'm sick of carrying them about with me.'

‘Oh, Jen—'

He was near breaking down, Phyllida thought, and hurried to intervene: ‘Shall we move down to the saloon? I think all your baggage is on board now, Jenny—you will let me call you that? Perhaps there is some message you would like Mr. Biddock to take to his wife for you?' Was that rash? Her warning glance met Jenny's sparkling one.

‘Yes, of course.' Brett's sister was no fool. She turned at once to Mr. Biddock. ‘You will say everything that's polite to your wife from me and explain that I prefer to stay with my brother? I'm afraid I came off in some haste. She may, just possibly, be wondering what has become of me.'

‘And that got rid of him.' In the saloon, Jenny pulled off her expensively ravishing bonnet and threw it on the table. ‘Thank you for the reminder, Miss Vannick. With such a tattletale for a wife, he's the last person we want listening to our family affairs.' And then, sensing an instinctive withdrawal in Phyllida. ‘You are going to be a sister to me, I hope?'

‘Who could help but be your friend?' Aware of Brett, darkling behind her, she felt as if walking on eggs. ‘Lord knows what kind of gossip Mrs. Biddock has been regaling you with.' She turned to Brett. ‘You've not met her. I warn you, she's an experience. But [to Jenny] the plain facts of the case are that your brother rescued my aunt and me from the Turks in Constantinople and has been so very kind as to bring us here to safety. And that is all. And that reminds me,' she turned back to Brett. ‘Mr. Biddock and I worked out the extent of my aunt's and my indebtedness to you.' A deep breath. ‘Here is a draft for
the amount.' He would not take it. ‘Since you have her jewels, perhaps I will give it to your sister. You'll take care of it for him?' She handed the folded paper to Jenny.

‘Indeed I will. And, thank you. You see, B, we're not penniless after all. Now it merely remains to let Miss Vannick charter the
Helena
, and our troubles are over. Oh—and to tell Price where my luggage is to go. Dear Price—' He had appeared in the doorway of the saloon. ‘I am so very pleased to see you.'

‘And I you, Miss Jenny. As to your luggage: it's all safely stowed long since, and merely awaits your abigail's arrival to unpack it.'

‘Then it will wait a long time. No, no. Don't look so scandalised. I started out with one, all right and tight. By Gibraltar, she was seasick half the time and grumbling the rest. At Malta, she got the offer of a passage home in company with “a very good sort of body”.' Jenny's cockney was perfect. ‘And I urged her to take it. Thank God she did. So—no abigail, Price.'

‘Then I'll unpack for you, miss, with your permission.'

‘I expect you'll unpack for me, permission or no. And very well you'll do it.'

‘Thank you, Miss Jenny. But first—Mr. Renshaw—' Why was he looking so miserable? ‘Mr. Brown has asked for a word with you, urgently. Before you discuss the question of a charter, he says.'

‘Good God!' Predictably, Brett exploded. ‘Has everyone on this boat been discussing this charter before it was so much as broached to me?'

‘It's my fault,' said Phyllida. ‘It seems I'm as bad as Mrs. Biddock. I'm afraid I told Captain Barlow. Forgive me, Brett? You must see we've all been at sixes and sevens while you've been ill.' She did not add that she had been quietly paying for the coal and supplies that had been coming on board.

‘Ill!' He was furious with himself. ‘Sulking in my tent, you mean, like Achilles, only with less excuse.'

‘Oh well,' said Phyllida soothingly. ‘Achilles gave a good account of himself, I seem to remember, when he emerged. And you are going to help me look for Peter, aren't you? Please?' And then, on a wicked inspiration. ‘I suppose I could charter the
Philip
from Alex, but I'd feel a good deal safer with you.'

‘Good God! You can't do that. Of course you shall have the
Helena
. What I find hard to bear is that I must at least let you pay her expenses, since I cannot do so myself.' It hurt him horribly to admit it.

And, for the time being, it was concession enough. ‘Thank you. I knew you would not fail me. But should we not hear what Mr. Brown has to say?'

It proved depressing. With coal at last on board, he had given the engines a trial run the day before, or tried to. ‘It's the gudgeons,' he said. ‘Those pirates!'

‘Pirates?' exclaimed Jenny.

‘But you've spares?' asked Brett.

Brown shook his head. ‘We fitted them at Malta. No, sir. It means sending to England for them. With your permission, I'll write a note to go by the packet.'

‘And in the meantime?'

‘Sail only, I'm afraid. Of course, with that jury rig of Mr. Alex's we're not so bad as we used to be, but it's no good thinking we'd have a chance of getting away if we were to meet any more of those pirates.'

‘And the packet takes six weeks or so each way,' said Jenny. ‘Oh poor Miss Vannick, what are we to do?'

‘To begin with,' said her brother, ‘we must wait till we hear what Alex has to say. But I'm afraid Brown's right, Phyllida. With steam, and a good lookout, I might consider venturing again into Greek waters with you three ladies, but you must see—' His look was appealing.

‘I do indeed.' It was one thing for her to risk herself and her aunt, quite another to take Jenny into such danger. And it was she herself who had urged that he let Jenny stay.

‘Miss Vannick, I am so sorry.' Jenny was no fool. ‘You mustn't mind about me, Brett. I think an encounter with pirates would be the most romantic thing.'

‘It's not, you know,' said Phyllida. ‘And I thought you were to call me by my name.'

‘Oh, thank you.' And then, heroically. ‘If it's only I who prevents you from going, you could leave me behind with Mrs. Biddock.'

‘No.' Phyllida and Cassandra said it in the same breath. ‘Let's not worry too much about it for now,' Phyllida went on. ‘There's nothing to be done anyway until Alex gets here.' It frightened her that they had all been assuming he would bring
news that Peter was alive.

‘And who, pray, is Alex?' Jenny had been longing to ask the question.

*          *          *

The
Philip
swooped into harbour two days later and Phyllida's heart beat fast as she watched the dramatic landfall she had seen on Spetsai.

Ten minutes later, she greeted Alex with an eager question. ‘Any news?'

‘Do you think I would look so happy if I had none,
kyria
? I would have shipped a black sail, I think, rather than raise your hopes for nothing.'

‘You mean?'

‘He's alive. That's certain. I talked to a man who actually saw him in the hills.'

‘Oh, thank God.' Tears trickled unchecked down her cheeks. ‘And thank
you
, Alex. There was no danger?'

‘There's always danger. Serving you, who cares?' He broke off to stare past her. ‘But who is the nereid?'

‘The—? Oh, you mean Mr. Renshaw's sister. She has just joined us from England.' Making the inevitable introductions, she watched, without pleasure, as Alex fixed his admiring glance on Jenny.

‘I thought you a water-nymph,' he told her. ‘The genius of the harbour.'

‘“No spirit, sir”,' she quoted, and laughed, and coloured. ‘So you're the hero who rescued them all? I must say'—thoughtfully—‘you look just as a hero should.'

‘Thank you,
kyria
.'

‘“
Kyria
”? That's pretty. What does it mean?'

‘It means “My lady”.'

‘Very pretty too, I must say,' she went on approvingly, ‘you speak beautiful English.'

‘My brother Petros taught me. Each time I mispronounced a word, I had to pay a forfeit.'

‘A forfeit. How do you mean?'

‘Oh.' Carelessly. ‘Bring him a Turk's head. Something like that.'

‘Ugh. Horrid.' She turned a little away from him, and then,
eagerly. ‘But is there news?'

‘Of Petros. Yes.' He repeated what he had told Phyllida.

‘Oh, I am so glad. But what now?'

‘I'm afraid, once again, there is nothing for it but to wait,' Alex said. ‘I am only happy that you'—to Phyllida—'will be able to do so in such good company. The word is,' he explained, ‘that Karaiskakis has gone across the mountains to join the defenders of Athens. Well, it's the logical thing for him to have done. I am on my way back to Nauplia now. I shall hope to get in touch with Petros and tell him you await him here.'

‘But can't we come with you?' Phyllida explained quickly about her chartering of the
Helena
. ‘It would have to be under sail, I'm afraid, since our engines aren't working.'

‘Yes, so I'd heard.' He was well informed. ‘And—I'm sorry,
kyria
, but this time I bear messages that brook no delay. I should not really have stopped here. I must give the
Philip
wings to make up for this happy visit. And your poor
Helena
—' A rueful glance drew their eyes upward to the mast he had rigged. ‘But I promise you, so soon as there is news, you shall have it, if all Greece suffers for my absence. Or, best of all, I will bring Petros here to you.'

He would not even stay to dine. ‘The sooner I leave you, the sooner I shall return.' He kissed first Phyllida's hand, then Jenny's. Did he hold it a little longer than he had hers, Phyllida wondered, and disliked herself as she did so. But no wonder if he did … Jenny in sprigged muslin for dinner was more enchanting than ever.

‘Isn't he beautiful?' Jenny gazed after Alex as he rowed away towards the
Philip
. ‘The Corsair, and Lara and all the rest of them rolled into one. Much, much better than Lord Byron himself, poor man, from all one hears about him. Oh, Phyllida, I am so glad I came.'

‘Yes.' Still watching Alex, Phyllida was ashamed not to be able to manage a greater show of enthusiasm. Characteristically, she turned the conversation into a practical channel. ‘The question is,' she said, ‘what's to do now. Three months till there's a hope of our getting spare (what were they called?—dudgeons?) from England, and God knows how long till Alex returns. I love the
Helena
dearly, but I think I shall hire a house on shore. You'll persuade your brother that you and he should come and stay with us? Even here, under British rule, I don't
think my aunt and I would feel safe without a man in the house.'