PAGAN ADVERSARY (18 page)

wanted to make Nicky's transfer to his new life and surroundings as

easy as possible, and so... .'

'I see.' Spiro looked at her sympathetically. 'He is not with you today,

the little Nicos?'

'No.' Harriet shook her head-. 'I don't bring him down here often. The

path is too steep and dangerous, for one thing, and he finds the sea

rather overwhelming after the shallow end of the pool.'

'But he can swim?'

Harriet smiled. 'After a fashion. He loves splashing about.'

'You are clearly very fond of him. He is a fortunate child. To have the

devotion of so lovely a girl and then—one day —to own all this.' He

waved his hand around him. 'Unless of course Alex grants his

mother's dearest wish by marrying and having children of his own,' he

added casually.

Harriet experienced a pang so sharp she nearly cried out. The thought

of Alex with another woman, looking with pride and satisfaction at

the son she had borne him, was frankly intolerable. And she would

know about it. There was no escape from that. The marriage of Alex

Marcos, the birth of an heir to the Marcos Corporation, were events

which the gossip columns of the world would hardly fail to record.

But at least she wouldn't have to be here to see it. She'd be a thousand

miles away, making a life for herself, trying to expunge the

bitter-sweetness of this Corfu summer from her mind, something she

had to do if she was ever to have any peace again.

She said with an admirable attempt at coolness, 'He's hardly likely to

remain single.'

Spiro grimaced. 'He has escaped so far, but my aunt, I think hopes

that he will make amends to the Xandreou family by marrying Maria.'

'Why should he do any such thing?' Harriet asked with unguarded

sharpness. She immediately tried to dissemble. 'I mean, it's a pretty

drastic way of making amends.'

'Not,' Spiro said gently, 'to the girl whom Kostas jilted to marry your

sister. Something else you did not know,
ne?'

'I didn't know he was actually engaged.'

Spiro shrugged. 'There was an understanding—an arrangement

between the families. It was as binding, or should have been, as a

formal engagement. Kostas'— defection was a humiliation for both

families.'

Harriet could feel sympathy with this unknown Maria, but at the same

time she had never found it in her heart to blame Kostas for escaping

while he could from such a cold-blooded arrangement. And no one

who had seen him with Becca, who had experienced their happiness

would have blamed him either, she thought"

Except here. Here there was resentment, and a deep- seated grudge

which might have hung over their lives and cast a shadow over that

happiness.

She said slowly, 'So now there's another— arrangement with Alex?'

'Of a kind. Alex has never been the marrying kind, but he has a keen

sense of family honour, and Maria is his mother's godchild, so they

are often in each other's company.' His mouth twisted slightly. 'She is

coming to stay , here tomorrow, so you will be able to judge for

yourself.'

Wonderful, Harriet thought wretchedly. Just what I want.

Aloud, she said, 'It won't be much of a judgment unless I see them

together—and Alex is away.'

Spiro laughed. 'That is true—but he will return. You will see, little

English Harriet.'

She forced herself to smile in return, as if he had said something very

amusing. 'If he's prepared to cut short a business trip, then he must be

serious.'

Spiro was still laughing. 'A business trip? Well, it is an excellent

excuse. A little family life here at the villa is enough for Alex. Sooner

or later he becomes bored, restricted, and he takes off for brighter

lights. He has a mistress in Athens, you understand.'

She was hurting again badly, which was ridiculous because a man

like Alex would have women wherever and whenever he wanted

them. She couldn't pretend the news came as any surprise, she

thought, remembering that phone call at the hotel in London, and

Vicky Hanlon's voluptuous charm.

She said brightly, 'I hope his future wife doesn't know.'

Spiro's mouth twisted. 'Maria is a sensible girl. She would consider

turning a blind eye to Alex's other interests a small price to pay for

becoming the new Madame Marcos—for marrying the Marcos

millions.'

'Then they should be perfect for each other,' Harriet said grimly. A

small price, she thought incredulously. If she were in Maria's place,

even the slightest hint of infidelity on Alex's part would be like losing

a piece of herself.

If he was opting for marriage, it was small wonder he had decided on

an arrangement with a Greek girl who would be 'sensible'. The last

thing he would want would be a wife who clung and complained, and

demanded all his attention.'You are very quiet,' Spiro commented.

Harriet looked at him and saw him watching her, his eyes frankly

assessing her body, its curves barely concealed by the scraps of

bikini. She had a ridiculous impulse to cover herself with her hands,

because she suddenly realised she didn't want Spiro looking at her. In

fact it occurred to her that although he was good-looking and seemed

friendly, she didn't really like Spiro very much, but that was probably

because he had told her things she didn't want to hear. They had

executed messengers who brought bad news in the old days, and, just

at the moment, it seemed like a good system.

She said stilted!^, 'I'd better go back to the house. Nicky will be

waking up.'

'And he likes you to be there. I cannot blame him.'

The words sounded fulsome, and she said, embarrassed, 'He's only a

baby really. For a while, I was all he had.'

He laughed. 'Of course. I said he was a fortunate child.'

She smiled uncertainly, reaching for her shirt and pulling it on, even

fastening a couple of the buttons. Her hands were steady enough, but

she was shaking inside.

She needed to get to the house, to her room, so she could fall to bits in

private.

Spiro said, 'I hope to see you later,' and she mumbled something in

reply as she made for the path. Once on it, she made herself slow

down, picking her way carefully because she didn't want to fall, and it

was too hot for running anyway.

I can't run, she thought. There's no escape. No way out. I'm trapped

here until Alex chooses to release me. And tomorrow she'll be

here—this Maria—and he'll be here too/and I shall have to watch

them together.

She wanted to lift her hands in despair to the sky, shout something

savage at the sun, but she knew she could still be seen from the beach,

knew without turning her head that Spiro was watching her departure,

so she thrust her balled fists into the pockets of her shirt, and went on

Climbing, her head bent, and her eyes fixed with a kind of

desperation on the rough stones beneath her feet.

'RUN, run as fast as you can --' Harriet paused, waiting for Nicky to

join her joyously in the second half of the couplet. '"You can't catch

me—I'm the gingerbread man!"'

But there was no response and when she looked at him, Nicky's small

face was unsmiling, his bottom lip pouting slightly.

Harriet sighed. 'I thought you liked this story?'

'Don't want a story,' he said rebelliously. 'Want swimming.'

Harriet closed the book, and put it to one side. She'd tried all his

favourites—The Little Red Hen, Three Billy Goats Gruff—in turn,

but all to no avail, yet usually he listened entranced.

She had decided against the swimming pool that day because

Yannina had reported that Nicky had been coughing a little in the

night, and she thought herself he looked a trifle flushed as if he might

be developing a slight temperature. But Nicky had become

accustomed to his daily splash in the pool, and had made it clear from

the outset that staying indoors and being read to was no substitute at

all.

He seemed perfectly all right again too, she thought, eyeing him, with

not a trace of a cough or a sniffle. There really seemed no valid reason

to deny him his wish, and keep him in the villa—except.. . .

This time her sigh was inward. Except that Maria would be down at

the pool, she thought wryly, and that was an ideal motive for keeping

as far away as possible.

She had made all kinds of resolutions before Maria's arrival, mentally

rehearsing the way she should behave, the things she should say, but

she had wasted her time. Because from the moment she had entered

the villa a week earlier, Maria had made it quite clear that she shared

the view of her hostess, and that Harriet, and to a lesser extent Nicky,

was less than the dust beneath her chariot wheels.

They had been introduced—Spiro had seen to that— and Maria had

looked her over briefly and frowningly, then turned away after a

perfunctory greeting which fell little short of overt rudeness. After

that she behaved for the most part as if Harriet did not exist.

But in that, Harriet admitted drily to herself, her behaviour was a little

different from the remainder of the household. No one wanted her

there, and in Alex's absence they took little trouble to conceal it.

Conversation at mealtimes was conducted wholly in Greek, and the-

only time that English was spoken to any extent in her presence was

during Nicky's daily sessions with his grandmother, from which

Harriet excused herself as often as possible.

Watching Madame Marcos struggling to entertain the child formed a

poignant contrast to Harriet's memories of her own mother. Rachel

Masters would not have sat on a sofa, stitching tapestry and holding a

stilted conversation with a largely uncomprehending Nicky as he

played at her feet. She would have been down there with him, among

the building blocks and wind-up toys, uncaring about her appearance

or dignity, and Madame Marcos, Harriet thought, was someone who

would be positively improved by a little tomboyish ruffling.

In many ways, it was sad, because at times she watched Nicky with

real yearning in her eyes. But although she insisted that he should be

brought to the
saloni
each day after his afternoon nap, she still held

him at arms' length, and in his turn Nicky regarded this black-clad

stranger with caution still.

But at least he did not show her the aversion he felt for Maciame

Constantis. He had called her a . witch once, but fortunately only

Harriet had heard, or at least understood him. Harriet wondered

sometimes if Madame Marcos could have relaxed more with the child

if her sister had not constantly been present, inhibiting her. Madame

Constantis made no secret of the fact that she did not approve of

Nicky's presence in the household, and the reason was not hard to

guess at, Harriet had realised with wry amusement. With Kostas

gone, the doting mother had decided that her Spiro was the rightful

heir if Alex persisted in remaining a bachelor, and she openly

resented the small intruder who had upset her cherished plan.

She acquitted Spiro of sharing his mother's ambitions. He seemed

half embarrassed, half amused by some of her pointed remarks, and

he more than made up for her marked indifference to Nicky.

In fact; Harriet had found herself warming to him as the days went by.

His simple, uncomplex personality was a much-needed palliative to

all the other tensions and hostility in the villa, and she realised that

her earlier reservations about him had only existed because she was

unconsciously comparing him with his cousin, to his detriment.

But she had ended up liking him in his own right, particularly because

of his unswerving friendliness in the face of his mother's disapproval.

And it was amusing to watch Madame Constantis' unsubtle and

unavailing attempts to get him to desert herself, and pay all his

attention to Maria.

Madame Marcos might have decided that she would be the ideal bride

for Alex, but it was clear that her sister thought the Xandreou heiress

would suit her own son much better. And it was equally clear that

Spiro wanted no part of it.

Maria was a pretty girl, Harriet fair-mindedly admitted, and she

would have been even more attractive without the petulant expression

which marred her features so often. She had a spectacular figure

which she showed off to the best advantage in a series of minuscule

bikinis, each with its matching wrap or
pareu.
Even her sandals, with

their incredibly highgilded heels, matched, as did the soft kid bags in

which she carried her cosmetics and sunglasses.

Maria Xandreou, in fact, Harriet decided, was not short of the good