Stormy the Way (9 page)

At least she was saved one aspect of the humiliation that might have been hers: Leon had no idea she loved him; he truly believed she had married him for his money - and he should continue to believe so.

Never would one unguarded moment occur where he might make a guess at her emotions.

He looked at her long and hard when they met at the breakfast table.

Savvas was all sly smiles, his tawny eyes glancing from Tara to Leon and back again all the time. The Greek men thought about nothing else but sex, she thought disgustedly, realizing that nothing would afford her greater pleasure than to slap the sniggering servant across his face.

'Madam is pale this morning,' he observed, and she glared at him.

Leon should have said something to the man, die thought, but he was busy sprinkling sugar on his grapefruit.

Towards the end of the silent meal Tara said coldly,

'Perhaps you will tell me what I have to do - in the house, I mean?

Savvas and his wife do the work,, I know, but must I supervise at all?'

The black eyes opened very wide. Their expressionseemed to be an admonishment at her coldness towards him and her chin lifted. Did he think it was all to be one-sided? - that he could treat her with frigid civility and she not retaliate? He would soon learn differently!

'I have managed very well up till now,' he commented at length, helping himself to more coffee. Tm a well-organized person, as you have probably observed. However, I suppose Savvas and Margarita will expect to receive their instructions from you now.' He flipped a hand negligently. 'Just do what you like. So long as my house is kept as it is, my meals produced on time and the garden kept immaculate then I shall be satisfied.'

Her mouth tightened. There had been no need for all that! He knew very well that things would continue as they had before she came.

'There is little for me to do, in effect?'

'I shouldn't have thought you were interested in work of any kind?'

'I'm used to working for my living,' she reminded him frigidly.

He shrugged.

'There's no need to work now. Just do what you were doing before -

go for a swim, or sunbathe on the lawn, or something.' He glanced at her plate. 'Eat your breakfast.'

'I shall not!' The retort shot out before she had time to .think; he glanced at her in some amusement and said,

'Please yourself. I expect you'll eat when you've got over the shock.'

Her grey eyes met those black ones, glintingly.

'We need not keep on referring to the fiasco of our marriage, Leon.'

And she just had to add, for her own particular satisfaction, 'One day it's you who'll get a shock, and it will be just as great as mine.'

His dark head lifted.

'And what,' he inquired with sudden interest, 'do you mean by that remark?'

'I have no intention of expanding on it at the present time. I said
one
day
- and that day doesn't happen to be yet.'

Another shrug. Probably he considered shfe was bluffing. So the shock would be all the more mortifying when it did come, she thought vindictively.

He disappeared immediately after breakfast, going to a smart stone building nestling on a small rise at the far end of the garden, which was shaded from the west winds by a belt of Aleppo pine trees. Up the walls of the building climbers had been trained and it was a delightful mass of colour from the bougainvillaeas and passion flowers, and of course the vines. Hibiscus shrubs flourished nearby and little plots of garden flowers with exotic perfumes had been arranged along the front and sides of the building. Inside, the luxury had left Tara gasping. Leon Dorkas certainly allowed himself the very maximum of comfort when he was working, for this pretty little building was in fact his study. His chief source of income was tobacco, Paul had told Tara, Leon owning several large plantations But he was also in shipping, as was almost every wealthy Greek. And so he spent much of his time working, and of course, travelling.

Tara went down to the beach for a swim, but she felt so lonely and lost that she soon returned to the house, where she sat in her room and tried to read. But it was impossible; she was in tears before very long and her book thrown on one side. What a mess she had made of her life through inserting that advertisement! Stewart had been so right when he had declared her to be childish. As she sat there on a chair by the window Tara found herself blaming first Ricky, then Freda for sending the invitation to her wedding; then she blamed Paul for answering the advertisement, and finally she admitted that the whole blame must be placed on her own shoulders. Well, this life would not be for ever; immediately on Paul's receiving his money she would leave— The ready tears flowed again, for she knew she would never be able to forget Leon, and certainly there would never be anyone else. She had said the same thing after the break with Ricky, but she had not then realized that what she felt for Ricky was in fact not much stronger than what he felt for her. What she felt for Leon was the real thing, and there never could be a repetition. This time it was for ever, and even now, when she had to face the stark truth that he would never return her love, she could not by any stretch of imagination see her own love fading.

With the sudden realization that it was lunch time she hastily bathed her eyes and went downstairs, hoping she had erased all evidence of her tears.

Obviously she had, as after a cursory glance at her as they both sat down, Leon seemed to find no occasion to look at her again.

'I shall be out this evening,' he told her when the meal was over and they were drinking their coffee. 'I dine out fairly often, with friends.'

Pale but composed, she sat a little apart from him, looking into his face.

'Won't these friends consider it strange, your not taking your wife with you?'

'It is quite customary for men to go out without their wives here,' he replied with a hint of sardonic amusement. 'I did warn you, if you remember, that ours is a patriarchal society. The wife just sits at home and does as she's told.'

Tara knew this wasn't true; not of the upper class in Greece, because she had learned a lot from Androula who, luckily for her, had not been born of peasant stock. In the remote villages, yes, the woman was just nothing, but educated Greeks were in the main very Westernized in outlook and, therefore, the women were treated as equals.

'So I won't see you again until tomorrow?' Tara hadn't meant to say anything like that, but the idea of hours of loneliness unrelieved. even by his silent company at dinner so appalled her that the words had escaped involuntarily without her being able to check them.

He looked rather oddly at her, examining her face and her eyes and her quivering mouth. He seemed to frown a little, inwardly, before he spoke.

'I'm afraid not; I shall be working until about six, when I shall come in merely to wash and change.'

'I see.' No more was said and as she had finished her coffee she got up and left him. A few minutes later she was standing at her bedroom window watching him crossing the courtyard with swift and easy strides, making for the lawn and the shrubbery, beyond which was his little garden study.

It would be better to leave at once, she thought dismally, seeing with a flash of imagination the surprise which her return would spring on her brother and his wife. And what of her parents? She had written them a letter which had brought in return,

'My dearest Tara,

What a surprise, after your dreadful experience with Ricky! We are so happy for you, because obviously you yourself are happy. It is fate, my dear, and you had to meet this man who obviously is worth a hundred Rickys. Our only regret is that we shall not be at your wedding, but we hope to see you and your husband within the next twelve months or so...

She could not go home, not quite so soon as this. Besides, there was Paul to think of. She had been so confident that she could influence Leon and that there was nothing to worry about any more. Tara rather thought that Paul would get his money anyway, but it did now occur to her that this presumption was not based on anything positive.

Supposing Leon didn't give Paul his money? Impatiently she shrugged. That was their affair; she was sick of it and she wasn't going to allow it to trouble her again. She had done her best to help Paul, because she was grateful for
his
help, but all she had done was land herself in such a mess that she felt she would never completely extricate herself. If Paul did get his money, then she would go forward with her plan, which was to put Leon in possession of the truth. He would not only be furious with himself for his stupidity, but if he had an ounce of decency in him he was going to feel inordinately sorry for misjudging his wife. He would learn that she had never intended marrying Paul - for his money or anything else. Should Paul not succeed in getting control of his money, then Tara would leave just the same, since life could not go on under these dreadful conditions. They must soon become unbearable both for her husband and herself.

TARA had been married five weeks when, Leon having been away for the past four days, Savvas came to her in the sitting-room, where she was listening to records, and said there was a gentleman to see her.

Frowning in puzzlement, she said automatically,

'Show him in, Savvas, please.'

And a moment later in walked Ricky.

She gaped at him, a dozen thoughts flashing through her mind before they were cut off by his voice.

Tara - I had to come! Don't be angry, but just tell me the truth. Did you marry this damned Greek on the rebound?'

Haughtily she drew herself up.

'My husband's name is Leon,' she informed him icily. 'Leon Dorkas.'

He licked his lips, glancing at the chair.

'I'm sorry... can I sit down, Tara?'

She flicked a hand and he took possession of the armchair.

'Why are you here?' she wanted to know, outwardly cool and aloof but inwardly allowing the questions to crowd in again. Had his marriage broken up too? She didn't have long to wait for the answer to this question.

'We've separated,' he said, his face grey and drawn. 'I made a ghastly mistake, and I believe you have as well. I brooded and brooded when Freda left me, then suddenly I couldn't stand it any longer and I decided to come here and find out for myself if you were in love with this - this—' He broke off as her eyes sparkled. 'Leon.' He paused.

'You
are
in love with him, then?'

She made no immediate answer, but sat down on the velvet-covered couch, her eyes examining him, comparing him with her husband.

Handsome, granted, but not in the classical way peculiar to Leon. His hair was light brown, his forehead high, and with a tiny shock of surprise she saw that his hair was already receding.

'What makes you think I might not be in love with my husband?' she inquired of him at last. Other questions were clamouring. How had he come by her address?

'Because it was all so unorthodox. You didn't marry his brother - and it was all too quick anyway. You
can't
be in love with him! I won't believe it! You've done it because you were so hurt …' His voice fell to silence and he seemed to sag inwardly, and hopelessly.

'How do you know I didn't marry Paul?'

'Because I know someone at the university. We got talking and I mentioned this Paul Dorkas - and - and I mentioned that he had been at our wedding with you - with his fiancee. I wanted to know if you were married—' He broke off, and she noticed the tiny beads of perspiration forming on his brow. 'I just had to know! Then this fellow came out with the astounding statement that you'd married this Paul's brother. I knew instantly that there was something odd, so I decided to come and see you.'

Her eyes flickered curiously.

'You were aware I'd come to Greece, then?'

'In a small town things leak out, you know that,' he answered impatiently. 'This chap at the university got your address for me, from Paul.'

'Well,' she said after a long pause, 'you've wasted your time because, you see, I am in love with my husband - very much so.'

He swallowed convulsively. The greyness below his cheeks moved upwards, and his voice was hollow when he spoke.

'It's very hard to believe, Tara,' he began, looking at her doubtfully.

'There's some mystery about the whole business; you'll not deny this, I hope?'

'I do deny it. There might have been something which as you said was unorthodox, but there's no mystery, Ricky, none at all.'

'Your husband,' he said after a while, 'he isn't here. I asked the servant and he told me his master was away until the end of the week.'

'That's correct. He does have to go away, to Athens and other places, on business.' She was getting over the shock of seeing Ricky and actually beginning to feel sorry for him. After all, she had loved him once - or thought so. She would now be married to him had it not been for the pressure put upon him by his father and, perhaps, by Freda's father as well. She wondered if their marriage would have failed, and thought that perhaps it would not, as she would never have met Leon and been swept into a whirlpool of ecstasy the like of which die had never known with her former fiancé'. No, the marriage would not have failed, she decided. It would have been one of those which survived on a doldrum sea - no ups or downs, no being swept on a tidal wave of passion, or being brought down by sudden mastery that had to be obeyed. Ricky would have been a tolerant, easy-going husband; she a dutiful wife, but dull - attending meticulously to the household chores, the washing and the ironing, the attentionto buttons on shuts and holes in socks. She would always have been there when Ricky came in from work ... but she wouldn't have fled to him and thrown herself into his arms, would never have known kisses that left her suffering exquisite pain and eagerly presenting her lips for more.