Stormy the Way (8 page)

'Already? But, Paul, then you could not possibly have been in love with Tara!'

'I wasn't,' he shrugged. 'That's obvious, because I'm so happy that she's marrying Leon. And so should you be, as you've always been troubled that he'd marry some stiff woman whom you wouldn't get on with.'

'I told you it was only calf-love,' Leon had said on perceiving Paul's reaction. 'The boy won't know his own mind for years yet,' he had added on a slightly disparaging note.

'How exciting!' Joan had said, flinging her arms round Tara on her arrival at the airport with Leon. 'I just couldn't believe it when you wrote saying you were coming home to get married!' And, later, 'He's terrific! You must have the handsomest man in all Greece!'

'Is this on the rebound?' Stewart had asked with that touch of superiority he adopted towards his sister, on account of the five years'

difference in their ages. 'Are you sure you're not going to regret it?'

'I love him,' she had returned quietly. 'It's something as vastly removed from what I felt for Ricky as the Poles are from the Equator.'

He had shrugged and said,

'There's still a home here for you if everything doesn't work out as you expect.'

'Stewart!' exclaimed Joan, shocked.

'It'll work out as I expect it to,' intervened Tara with smiling confidence. 'I'll not be coming home, Stewart - only for visits, of course.'

'You're very quiet.' Leon's voice intruding into her reflection and she turned eagerly to him. Through the opposite window she saw the clouds thickening, and the thin rays of the sun trying to penetrate them. 'Are you ready for a drink?'

'No, thank you, Leon. Aren't we nearly there?'

He nodded, glancing through the window at her side.

'We shall be in Athens in about twenty minutes' time.'

'Will there be a boat, do you think?'

'We might have to wait a short while, but yes, we shall be able to get a boat all right.'

She glanced through the window again. The sun was winning - an omen, she thought, then laughed at herself. 'I've never been so happy in the whole of my life,' she said softly, her adoring eyes settling on her husband's face. 'Thank you for loving me, Leon.'

He looked strangely at her, then beckoned to the stewardess. He ordered a drink; she wondered at his silence but attached no particular importance to it.

The sun had gone down when they reached Poros, entering the quay in the smart white coastal vessel,
Marina
, from Piraeus. The harbour was like a smooth blue lake with the opposite shore only a mile away and high mountains cutting into the sky above the vast expanse of lemon groves. The whole vista was affected by the setting sun, which spread its translucent glory over a landscape drowsy with the daytime heat. Palms silhouetted against the sky were dappled with crimson; the hills were tinted with gold, but in the vast vault of the sky purple streaks of evening were already beginning to appear, mingling with the enchanting tracery of crimson cobwebs swirling sinuously against a background of fading blue. The mountains, already growing cool and tranquil in the evening light, were bathed in subtle shades of lilac and pink and pearl.

It was magic - or heaven, or a combination of both, thought Tara, excited and expectant as she looked up at her husband, his hand lifted to bring forth the taxi standing at the quay. Within ten minutes they were at the villa.

'Home at last!' she exclaimed happily, expecting to be taken into Leon's arms. But he was picking up the pile of letters lying on a silver tray on the hall table, and he walked away, into the lounge, Tara following,

Savvas was dealing with the luggage and Tara said, feeling a tiny bit flat all at once,

'I'll go and tidy myself, ready for dinner.'

Glancing up, Leon nodded. She stood there, hurt - yet instantly telling herself not to be silly. Her husband naturally wanted to examine his mail.

Dinner, ... Another meal like the one which had made so momentous a change in her life, just as, by some uncanny instinct, she had known it would. This time, though, they would not walk in the garden ... no, Leon would have other plans....

But the meal was a disappointment to Tara, for it lacked the intimacy she expected. Leon was silent and morose; he seemed a million miles away from her. So great was her disappointment that she felt the tears prick her eyelids several times, and she found also that she wasn't hungry, because of the lump in her throat and the leaden weight that was settling in the pit of her stomach.

'Are - are you all right?' she just had to ask when a couple of her remarks had been answered merely by a nod.

'All right?' with a lift of his brow, and a sweeping glance from her pale face to her plate, with its food untouched. 'I expect so. Why do you ask?'

She started, and shook her head bewilderedly.

'You're ... not the same,' she quivered, fighting the tears. What had happened to bring about this change?

'I'm sorry,' he said in a more gentle tone. 'Eat your dinner; it's going cold.'

A smile fluttered then, and she felt a little better. But although from then on they chatted over the meal she still felt uneasy and bewildered. It would be all right later, she assured herself. Perhaps Leon had received some worrying business news, and if this were the case then obviously he would be silent and withdrawn.

She glanced at the clock. Twelve-thirty. ... She and Leon had come up over an hour ago, she entering her room and he his. He was going to take a bath, he said, and she herself took a shower. And now she was standing in the middle of the lovely bedroom, staring at the communicating door, which was closed. No sound at all. What a strange wedding night! No kiss since they had left England, no endearing words, no glances of desire or expectation. With a wildly beating heart she at last covered the distance between the door and herself and knocked timidly.
No
sound, and she knocked again, louder. Was Leon ill? she wondered, her heart taking a sudden bound as without waiting another second she opened the door. Yes, that would explain all; he was ill - had been ill all the time but didn't want to worry her with it—

'What the devil do you mean by bursting in here like this!' He was lying in bed, reading! Tara blinked, his angry question lost on her for the moment as she stood there in the open doorway, her curves enchantingly revealed under the long nightdress she wore.

'You're - reading,' she stammered stupidly. 'You're rereading a b-book!'

Insolently his eyes roved her figure. Was this cold indifferent man the same ardent lover who had carried her on the tide of his passion to the point of near surrender? - the man who, later, had insisted on the minimum amount of delay because, he said, he could not wait for her? They had waited only until they could have the house to themselves, and after Androula and Paul had attended the wedding they went on to their respective universities.

'We'll be together,' Leon had whispered, 'just the two of us, until Paul and Androula come home few:

Christmas.'

'Have you any objection to my reading a book?' inquired Leon at last, breaking into her chaotic thoughts.

Her trembling hands were spread in a sort of helpless, pleading gesture. Tears filmed her eyes and her lovely lips quivered tremulously.

'It's our wedding night,' she whispered, shaking her head and, without thinking, coming further into his room. 'Have - have I d-done something to displease you?'

'Not that I can recall, Tara.' Another sweep of those pagan eyes, but they were as cold and lifeless as obsidian and equally hard. 'Why aren't you asleep? You must be tired after all that travelling.'

Suddenly her anger surged. She was still bewildered and desperately unhappy, but her pride had been injured, and her face was burning with humiliation because of his arrogant manner and his glances of contempt, and because of the supreme embarrassment through which she was passing. But she managed successfully to stem her anger and to adopt a cold and haughty attitude which, she told herself, would provide him with far less satisfaction than a furious outburst would have done.

'I am tired, yes,' she replied stiffly. 'I merely came in to say good night

- since you omitted to do so.'

The black eyes kindled; she had the unpleasant conviction that her poor little effort had afforded him immense amusement. What was his game? Suddenly she recalled an earlier suspicion....

'Good night, then—' he was saying, but she had already voiced her own question.

'Why did you marry me, Leon?'He paused a moment, considering.

'Well, you'll have to know soon,' he said with a shrug. 'I married you to save my brother.' Her face went white.

'To - to save Paul?' To save Paul! She wanted to laugh - loudly, and to shout out the truth. Hysteria had to be crushed as it rose like a flood within her, filling her right up to her throat, which felt totally blocked.

To save Paul! That was the only reason why Leon had tempted her, made love to her, demanded that she marry him at once. 'To save Paul!' she repeated in a cracked and high-pitched tone when, at last she was able to articulate words at all. 'You never loved me? It was all an act?'

'Obviously it was an act,' he returned heartlessly, his cold glance matching the icy inflection of his voice. 'No man in his right senses would love a woman of your sort.'

She flinched at these words, but her voice was low and controlled as she said,

'You don't mind that you've sacrificed your freedom - that you've spoiled your life?'

'I haven't spoiled it. I shall carry on as before.' A small pause and then, continuing what he was about to say, before the interruption, 'Paul was infatuated; was too blind and inexperienced to realize that all you cared about was his money - as all Englishwomen do. His father entrusted his fortune to my care and I'd ha^ failed in my duty had I allowed the marriage to take place. Paul is now safe from your avaricious clutches—'

'Avaricious clutches! Oh, how dare you!'

'He's a child still, whereas you're a woman of the world—'

'How have you reached that conclusion?' she demanded hotly.

'No woman of your age would fall in love with a boy like Paul.' She made no comment and he then added, 'Can you deny that?'

He knew she could not, simply because events had proved beyond doubt that she had never loved Paul. Reading her thoughts, he went on contemptuously, 'You were quick to accept my offer, weren't you, Tara? But then Paul had obviously told you that my fortune is far greater than his.'

Every vestige of colour had fled from her cheeks now. She had been thinking of telling him the whole truth, but she saw that it would do her no good and it would do Paul a great deal of harm. Leon had no love at all for her, so nothing she could say would help her in her plight. What an utter fool she had been, to think that a man like Leon could fall in love with her. Hadn't she told herself that he was cold and unfeeling? - that he held women in contempt? She deserved all she had received and with an acceptance of this she turned away, without troubling to argue with his implication that she had married him for his money. Pride would not let her remain, here in his bedroom, with him lying there, propped on one elbow, regarding her with amused contempt, and enjoying the fact of her humiliation at being thus treated, on her wedding night. That she desired him she would not deny even now, but she made a vow that he would never know this. Would she leave him? She supposed she must, but for the present her mind was in no fit condition for making decisions. In any case, there was plenty of time.

After leaving his room she closed the door softly behind her, then pressed her hands to it, bent her head, and wept bitterly, and silently until, racked by sobs, she realized she was making herself ill and she got into bed. Sleep was denied her, as was to be expected; she tossed and turned all night, asking herself over and over again how she had come to fall in love with him in the first place and, having done so, blithely accepted that he also had fallen in love. Only a fool would have been so blind and so trusting. It wasn't as if she hadn't known an inner warning that he was playing some game with her. But even had she gone into that she would never in a thousand years have hit on the truth. To marry her to save Paul! Again she could have laughed -

laughed like someone almost deranged, so ludicrous it all was. Apart from herself, and the terrible plight in which she now was, there was the fact of Leon's having shackled himself with a wife whom he did not love and never would love - and all for nothing, since there had never been any question of Paul's being in danger.

Suddenly, in the darkness of the night, there came to her the idea of revenge. She would remain here until Paul received his inheritance, and then she would tell Leon the truth. She would laugh in his face and scoff at his stupidity! It would be his turn then to suffer humiliation - and bitter chagrin, knowing that his sacrifice had been so totally unnecessary. Yes, that was what she would do. And then she would leave Poros, and never set foot on the shores of Greece again as long as she lived.

The night came to an end at last, a night so different from what she had dreamed of only a few hours ago as she got into bed in her old room at Stewart's house. Stewart! Humiliation gripped her again at the recollection of his words about there still being a home for her with him and Joan. So shocked Joan had been, while Tara herself had so confidently passed off the remark.

And now she must go back - at least, as soon as Leon made Paul's money over to him. Stewart would say 'I told you so; I suggested you were acting on the rebound.' Well, she had asked for it. Mature and levelheaded? She had acted like a scatterbrained schoolgirl, falling madly in love with a handsome face - a classical Greek face whose black eyes could at one moment burn with pagan savagery, and at another glitter with icy contempt and disdain.