Greek Wedding (20 page)

‘Why, nor I have.' She laughed. ‘That I was a domestic tyrant, I expect. I've always felt I must have failed him somehow, or why did he run away as he did?'

‘For love of a cause,
kyria
, an ideal. For freedom, and for us poor Greeks. He's a man in a million, your Brother Petros.' And, seeing how she enjoyed it, he embroidered on this theme for the rest of the evening.

*          *          *

Their self-imposed quarantine in the bay of Aegina was no pleasure. Each day, now, was hotter than the last, and as they sat under the awning on the burning deck, the sight of wooded hills and blue distances was merely maddening. Worst of all, for Phyllida, was the knowledge that she was responsible for this discomfort. And Brett continued equally polite and withdrawn. It would have made her furious if it had not made her so unhappy.

It was no comfort to wonder if he might not have been right in urging her to take Alex's advice and quit the hot and crowded harbour at Aegina. He never raised the subject again, nor commented on the discomforts of their enforced confinement. He did not need to. She saw that Jenny was losing weight, and knew that her aunt was not sleeping. She herself was, simply, miserable. To watch Brett laughing and joking with Jenny, and then suffer his invariable cool courtesy to herself was curiously hard to bear. And yet, she told herself, she ought to be grateful. If she had been afraid, just once or twice, on Zante, that he was beginning to forget Helena for her sake, she had certainly managed a most effective cure. It made things, she kept telling herself, much easier. But it still made her miserable.

So she was immensely relieved when Lord Cochrane finally sailed into Aegina harbour one fine March morning. The handsome eighteen-gun brig bought for him by the Greek Committee of France had hardly downed anchor before emissaries began to swarm on board, both from the shore and from Hamilton's
Cambrian
.

‘He's getting a tremendous welcome.' Phyllida had watched
the whole scene from the deck of the
Helena
.

‘Yes,' Brett joined her at the rail. ‘They seem to think that his coming will solve all their problems. I only hope they are right.'

‘You don't think so? Do you know Cochrane, Brett?'

‘No. He's been a semi-exile since that disgraceful business in 1814. You must have heard about it.'

‘No.' She was delighted to have him talking to her again. ‘What happened?'

‘It was a tremendous scandal at the time. Of course.' Surprised. ‘Britain and the United States were at war then. You would not have heard. Cochrane engineered, or was supposed to have engineered a false rumour of peace with France, and made a fortune on the Stock Exchange in the resulting confusion. It was an extraordinary business altogether, and I don't think anyone really knows the rights of it. There was immense popular sympathy with him at the time. He was goaled … escaped … stood again for his seat in Parliament and was actually reelected. He may have been innocent for all I know, but it finished his career in the navy. He's seen a good deal of service in South America since then. He's—well, I suppose you'd call him an adventurer.'

‘Then he should just suit the Greeks.'

‘I'm not so sure. What they need is someone who'll restrain their tendencies that way, not pander to them. I'd rather see Frank Hastings in command of their navy any day, but I don't think there's any question but that Cochrane will carry all before him now he's here. I just hope it works out for the best.'

‘And quickly, so they can set about the relief of Athens. I wish Alex would get back with news.'

‘We don't need Alex to tell us that everyone admits the supreme importance of relieving Athens. Hastings says there's a rumour going about that the Great Powers intend any liberation of Greece to apply only to such territory as they hold when the truce finally goes into effect. So they are bound to make every effort to hold the Acropolis, in order to be able to claim possession of at least part of Northern Greece.'

‘I see.' She found it cold comfort. ‘And, on the same grounds, the Turks will be equally determined to take it at all costs.'

*          *          *

She met Cochrane at dinner on the
Cambrian
a couple of days later, and did not like him. ‘Though I can't think why not,' she admitted to Jenny afterwards. ‘He has charm enough for ten; I thought he didn't much like us Americans, but he was certainly courtesy itself to me. And wonderfully confident and reassuring about the Acropolis.'

‘Too confident,' said Jenny. ‘And did you notice how carefully he apportioned his favours?' She laughed. ‘Will you think me a jealous cat, love, but it did occur to me someone might have told him you were thinking of giving money to the Greeks.'

‘Wretch! If Aunt Cass wasn't watching, I'd pull your hair for that! And I so proud of my moment of triumph! No, seriously, it bothered me a little. Who could have told him?'

‘Not Brett, that's certain.' Wisely, Jenny left it at that. ‘I'll tell you something else I didn't like about Cochrane. Did you see him not seeing Aunt Cass?'

‘Yes, indeed,' said Phyllida. ‘And how your brother came to her rescue when Cochrane left her stranded. I
was
grateful.'

‘Oh, you can always count on Brett.'

*          *          *

Likeable or not, Cochrane succeded where everyone else had failed. The rival Greek governments managed to compound their differences after a series of noisy meetings, and sent for Count Capodistrias to take office as the first President of the Republic of Greece. Cochrane was made Commander in Chief at sea, at Church on land, and a committee of three was elected to govern until Capodistrias arrived.

Oddly enough, it was Alex, now, who urged that Phyllida delay handing over her gift of money to the new government. ‘Pay it in instalments,
kyria
,' he said. ‘That way, you will have some control of what is done with it. Besides, who knows, now Lord Cochrane is in command, Athens may be relieved any day. We may have my Brother Petros back with us, able to decide, himself, what's best to do with it.'

‘What do you think, Brett?'

‘I think it very good advice. There are rumours, you know, that Lord Cochrane is living pretty lavishly at the expense of the Greek government. You don't want to find yourself contributing to the upkeep of his establishment.'

‘No, indeed!' The frugal American housewife in her was revolted by the idea. ‘Very well, by instalments it shall be. I'm glad your Cousin George is one of the council of three who are to govern until Count Capodistrias gets here, Alex. But I do wish they would hurry up with the relief of Athens.'

‘Take comfort,
kyria
. Lord Cochrane is quite as impatient as you.'

‘Yes,' said Brett. ‘I believe he's told the Greeks that if they don't mount an attack soon, he'll throw up his command and find himself a new adventure.'

‘Would he really do that?'

‘I wouldn't be surprised. He likes results, does Lord Cochrane.'

They heard, next day, that the new government intended to move its headquarters to Poros. Alex advised that they go there too. ‘It's a magnificent, landlocked bay. You should be able to find a private anchorage. But first, I hope you will let me take you to see the Temple of Aphaia here on Aegina. I know Miss Jenny has her heart set on that.'

‘Oh yes, please!' Jenny had been gazing at the blue distances of the Morea and only half listening to the talk, but now joined in eagerly. ‘It's so mortifying to have been in Greece all this time, and never seen so much as a bit of a classical ruin. Do let's go. You'd like it, wouldn't you, Phyllida?'

‘Yes, immensely—if you think it's safe?' She addressed the question equally to Brett and Alex.

‘Perfectly,' said Alex emphatically. ‘We'll sail around to the bay under the Temple—no threat of plague there.'

‘No,' said Brett. ‘And, in fact, I've not heard any more talk of it here at Aegina.'

‘Very likely it was a false alarm,' Alex agreed. ‘But—what is it my Brother Petros says? “Better safe than sorry”.'

‘You do speak English beautifully, Alex! You must have worked at it like a Trojan.'

‘Or like a Greek. How glad I am, now that I did.'

Next day dawned fine and windless, so Alex made the short trip round the island on the
Helena
with them. On his advice, Phyllida and Jenny had both put on full-trousered Turkish costume. ‘We shall need to go ashore and walk a little to get the best view of the temple,' he explained.

One glance at the pine-covered hillside was enough for Aunt
Cassandra. ‘I shall stay on board. You won't go far, Phyllida?' It was a plea.

‘No, Aunt.' Phyllida had hoped that they might be able actually to climb up to the temple that stood high above them, brilliant white against the sapphire mid-day sky. But if she even breathed the idea of so extended an expedition, her aunt would feel in honour bound to come too. She would never get used to these English ideas of chaperonage, and might, perhaps have resisted on her own account, but there was Jenny to be considered. So she sighed and resigned herself to the compromise Alex proposed. A short walk through the pinewoods, he explained, would take them to a clearing from which they could get the best view of the temple, short of actually climbing up to it.

‘Better so,' he consoled Phyllida as he helped her ashore. ‘Even here, you know, the modern Vandals have been at work. The carvings from the temple have been carried off to Bavaria, and the workmen who took them for Prince Louis were no respecters of antiquities. From down here, you will be able to imagine the building perfect as when it was first dedicated.' Leading her along the shady path through the woods, he proved surprisingly knowledgeable about the temple. Absorbed in his account of the various theories about its dedication either to Aphaia, Pallas Athene or even Jupiter Panhellenius, Phyllida did not notice for some time that they had left Jenny and Brett far behind. But that was not surprising. As they pushed their way through thickets of flowering almond or purple Judas trees, each sunlit glade they reached had its own splendour of spring flowers, white drifts of narcissi and daisies, scarlet ones of anemones and everywhere the purple and crimson of poppies. Jenny could never resist a flower she did not know, and any walk with her was punctuated by her exclamations of delight as she darted this way and that to investigate here an unusual iris or there something yellow she had never seen before. And after all she was safe with her brother. But just the same … Phyllida thought of Aunt Cassandra and slowed her pace: ‘We'd better wait for the others, Alex.'

‘But we're just there. One more turning and you shall have your view of the Temple and think of Aphaia while you wait.'

‘Oh, in that case…' She moved forward again at his side. ‘But will they be able to find their way?' Distracted equally by
his talk and by the spring glories all around them, she had still noticed that the path was little more than one among many sheep tracks.

‘They can hardly fail to. It's just to keep going upwards as we have done. Miss Jenny is doubtless after her wild flowers again.'

‘I expect so.' She continued by his side, but a little slower now, listening for the sound of Jenny's voice and gay laughter.

‘Phyllida—' He took her arm to guide her round a projecting piece of rock. ‘Forget about Jenny for once. She's with her brother. They'll catch us all too soon. Think of me. Think how I've schemed, planned, hoped for this moment.'

‘Planned?' A little breathlessly, playing for time.

He laughed. ‘Why do you think I wanted, so badly, to get you to Sunion? How could we speak our hearts to each other, on the
Helena
, surrounded by a thousand eyes? I began almost to believe in our old fable of Argus; I would have despaired, I think, if your beautiful eyes had not sometimes told me to hope.
Kyria
, tell me I was not wrong! Oh—I've no right to ask you this! What have I to offer but a heart that beats only for you, and a castle on the bare rock, down in the Mani? Not even that, if the Turks should conquer us. But that I'll never believe. And you, you're rich, beyond imagination. Sometimes, I'm ashamed to have let myself dream of you. But, Phyllida, we shall not be beaten! We Greeks are a nation at last; a nation with pride, with a future. When the fighting is over; when the Turk has been driven from our shores and we establish our kingdom, once more, at Constantinople, who will govern the new Greece but men like me, men who fought and suffered for her? In the present,
kyria
, I offer you my poverty, but in the future I build you a palace of dreams.'

‘Constantinople?' Even now, the word sent a little shudder down her spine.

‘Of course.' Impatiently. ‘A new empire of Byzantium, and you and I among its princes.'

‘Princes? A kingdom? But, Alex…'

He laughed, but the colour was high on his cheekbones. ‘I'm speaking figuratively, though indeed Petros and I have often agreed that we Greeks might need, at first, one strong man, one Pericles to set us on our way to liberty. And that brings me to something I should have said before.
Kyria
!' Formal now. ‘I
have your brother's permission to pay you my addresses.'

‘Peter's!' Do what she would, she could not help laughing. ‘Oh, Alex, you never asked him?'

He did not like it. ‘Why do you think I have waited so long, but for his answer. And this opportunity. In Greece, we do it like this, by consultation with heads of families.'

‘I'd rather you'd asked Aunt Cass!' It came out almost despite her, and she anticipated his answer.

‘A woman!' With undisguised scorn. And then, quickly, taking both her hands. ‘Phyllida, you must know that you are the only woman in the world whose judgment I respect. The only woman in the world for me.' He pulled her towards him. ‘Don't think of anything but that. What do they matter, my poverty, your riches; the past, the future, when you and I can come together, like this?'