The Beads of Nemesis (12 page)

Dora studied the picture in a critical silence. She seemed to have forgotten all about the real Morag beside her.

“What did you say?” she asked at last.

“Has - has Pericles seen it?”

Dora grinned suddenly. “He’d be a fool if he hasn’t! Oh, you mean the picture? No, not yet. I did it while you were both in England from a drawing I made of you the first day you were here. Do you want him to see it?”

“I don’t know.”

How could she want him to see it? It said far more than the words he had said he wanted from her!

Dora gave her a sardonic look. “Well, you have from now until the night of the party in which to make up your mind! ”

Morag took a last look at the painting. “I have made up my mind!”

She took a deep breath, hoping that she would somehow find the

courage to go through with it. “I’d like it to be shown with the others.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The gold dress was everything that Morag had hoped. When she had seen the children into their best clothes, and had helped Dora to dress her hair as she often did nowadays, she went to her own room and sank into the luxury of a hot bath, appreciating it all the more because it wasn’t often that she was able to talk the maid into firing the boiler sufficiently for the water to be anything more than tepid when it came reluctantly out of the tap into the elaborately fitted bath. Pericles said hot water wasn’t necessary in the summer in Greece. It was a theory that had surprised Morag, for she wouldn’t have thought that her husband was the kind of man to believe in cold showers, or anything that wasn’t the last word in comfort. But then she had to admit that she still knew

very little about Pericles Holmes, let alone about his personal habits.

She went about her preparations for the party with an orderliness that would have amused her if she had not been keeping such a tight rein on her thoughts and emotions lest she turned tail and ran away long before any of the guests had arrived. It wasn’t often that she paid much attention to her appearance, but tonight was different. Tonight, she had to build a brilliant shell between herself and her new family. It had been her own wish that Dora should show Pericles the portrait of herself for the first time in public, but she had determined that her real self would be as far removed from the vulnerable girl in the painting as it was possible for her to be.

Indeed, whenever she thought of her painted image her heart turned over with fright. How could she have looked at Pericles like that? He was bound to recognise the urgency of her need for him written clear in her eyes, and what would she do then? No matter what he said, she couldn't confess how often she had longed for him to take her in his arms and kiss her as he had kissed her that once before. Was that what he wanted her to put into words? Her cheeks flamed at the thought. Surely not! Surely he would know how impossible it was for her to ask - suggest -make him aware that her whole being cried out for him with an urgency that had first shocked her and, even now, made her wonder if he wouldn’t despise her if he ever guessed how she felt about him. She had always pictured herself as being won and giving herself to some man in response to his need for her. She had never imagined that she might have to ask, or worse still to plead, with any man to make love to her. Yet it didn’t look as though Pericles was ever going to make her his wife in fact as well as in name. He had said he wanted all the words, but if he were kind at all, he would surely accept the naked invitation his mother had caught on her face when she had been looking at him and thinking herself unobserved.

She spread the gold dress out on the foot of her bed and turned her attention to making up her face, a task that took all her attention because for once she wanted to look sophisticated and to bear the image of ‘Swinging London’ and, most of all, to put all the other women in the shade for the space of a few days. When she had finished she was herself rather surprised by the result. Her green eyes, as bright as emeralds, stared back at her in the glass, looking as mysterious as two green pools

of light. She allowed her eyes to fall and was pleased by the shadowy effect of her long eye lashes. She had never thought of herself as beautiful, but tonight, she thought, she looked quite as well as she had ever seen Delia look. Excitement flooded through her veins, leaving a sensation of panic in its wake as she wondered if Pericles would notice and what he would do if he did.

Last of all, she dropped the golden dress over her head and smoothed down the skirt over her hips, marvelling at the elegant cut and the glowing brilliance of the material. She turned swiftly as the door-handle rattled briefly and opened to allow Pericles to walk into her room as calmly as if he did it every day - and with as little warning!

“I - I’m nearly ready,” Morag faltered, wondering what he had come for.

“So I see.”

The humour in his voice set the panic off again like fireworks through her blood. She glanced up at him, unaware of the appeal in her eyes. “Do you like it?” she asked him. His silence lent desperation to her next words. “You - did give it to me!”

“You look very lovely,” he said at last, “but not quite the Morag I’m used to - ”

“You don't like it!” she exclaimed in dismay. “Oh, Perry, why not? It’s the

most beautiful dress I’ve ever had!” “Very splendid!” He smiled slowly. “I

hope you remember whose wife you are this evening! Every eye - every

masculine eye - will be following you in that!”

“Oh, do you think so?” Her eyelashes swept downwards. “I think I

might rather like that!”

“Indeed?” he said dryly. “Well, keep your pleasure under control, if

you can. You have no business attracting other men to want to make

love to you, and I’m not the sort of man to stand by idly watching his

wife flirt with other men! ” “Oh,” she said. The excitement within her

was almost unbearable. “Will you - will you flirt with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

She licked her lips “I don’t know.” Her eyes flashed up to his face and dropped again. “D-do you?”

“That would be telling,” he drawled ! “But Pericles” - she began.

Pericles raised his eyebrows. “Are you asking me to flirt with you,

Morag?”

“No, no, of course not!” She smoothed down her skirts again and then stopped, thinking that he might think that she was trying to draw his attention to the very feminine line of the dress. “I wouldn’t do that!”

He put a hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Why not?”

“I’m not very good at it - and you might not want to!”

“Not very good at it? Oh, Morag! Don’t let me catch you dallying with anyone else, that’s all I ask! You’ll regret it if you do!”

“Will I?” She tried to escape his restraining fingers. “I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

“Don’t you?” The pressure of his fingers increased, though his thumb caressed her lips which trembled beneath his touch. “I hope you’re right!”

She pulled herself together with an effort. “What could you do to me?” she dared him. She put a hand over his thumb, pulling it away from her mouth. “You’ll smudge my lipstick!”

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically. He didn’t look sorry at all. On the contrary, he looked as sure of himself and as autocratic as she had ever seen him. “No, dammit, I’m not sorry at all! Who has a better right to smudge your lipstick anyway?”

“But not now!” she protested, hoping against hope that he would

overrule her.

“No, not now,” he agreed.

She winced, but he still didn’t release her. “Please, Pericles,” she whispered.

“Please what? Kiss you?”

Oh yes. Her heart thundered within her. “Please let me-”

He did so with a snap of his fingers. “Very well, but I meant what I said, and you would do well to remember that!”

Morag tried to hid her disappointment as best she may, making a play of looking at herself in the glass to see if she had to repair her make-up. But the tears in her eyes hardly allowed her to see her own reflection. Despair gripped her. The dress had made no difference! If it had Pericles would have kissed her whether she had asked him or not. He wouldn’t have been able to help himself!

“I’m not likely to forget!” she muttered.

His eyes met hers in the looking-glass.

“See that you don’t!” he said.

“Did you come only to threaten me?” she asked him.

“No, I came to see if you wanted me to zip you up again - and give you this!” He put his hand into his pocket and drew out something that flashed as green as her eyes. “Jade for a jade,” he murmured. “I thought it would go with the dress.” He made to put it on for her, but she took a quick step away from him, determined that he shouldn’t touch her again. With a gesture of impatience, he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her against him. “Stand still,” he commanded her.

She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, then the coldness of the jade against her skin as he fastened the chain for her. She shut her eyes, wondering what he would do if she were to turn in his arms and thank him in the one way she longed to do, with her lips. Then she felt the kiss on the nape of her neck and she had no choice in the matter, for he had turned her to face him and his mouth descended on hers with a force that lit the short fuse of her own desire and she was kissing him as much as he was kissing her.

“We must go and meet our guests,” he said at last, putting her from him.

Morag nodded her head. “I suppose so.” She half laughed, half sobbed. “Thank you for this, Pericles.” She fingered the jade pendant, her cheeks pink. “I think I like my shells better, though - my beads of Nemesis.”

He shrugged. “I think I do too,” he said, “though possibly not for the same reason.”

She looked her enquiry, busily putting on some more lipstick, but Pericles only smiled and shook his head at her.

They went together in the sitting room. To Morag, it seemed the room was already filled to capacity and she was glad of Pericles’ support as he put his arm lightly around her waist and introduced her to his

many Greek friends. More of them spoke English than she thought possible, and after a while she began to enjoy herself, finding that almost everyone there was prepared to like her, and not only for her husband’s sake, but because they found her likeable for herself. Morag, quite unaccustomed to being the centre of attraction, found it a heady experience.

Not even Takis, annoying as she found him, could disturb her newfound serenity. She took a step closer to Pericles, but she didn’t really mind when Takis manoeuvred her away from his side and over to the other side of the room where he could speak to her without being overheard by Pericles.

“You look beautiful,” he congratulated her. “You see what good taste I have. Didn’t I advise you that that is the dress for you?”

“Did you?”

“You know I did! Though I didn’t know that you had such a beautiful pendant that would set it off to perfection!” “Pericles gave it to me, he gave it me just now.”

Takis grinned at her. “So the dress had the desired effect?” Morag shook her head. “I - I didn’t want him to give me anything.”

Takis took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Not many people would believe that, but I do. I am very hurt, Morag, here in my heart. When you first came here, you looked at me with your green eyes and I thought you liked me very well, but all the time you were planning the conquest of another.”

Morag smiled. “It was he who conquered me,” she murmured.

“No, not yet,” Takis contradicted her. “When that happens, I shall totally give up hope. But until then I shall try to do to you what you have done to me!”

“I haven’t done anything to you!”

“You have stolen my heart!” Takis returned, a gleam of laughter in his eyes. “I will revenge myself on you for that!” “Will you?” Morag drew herself up, though she was still smiling. “Pericles will protect me from anything you can do!”

The teasing quality disappeared from Takis’ voice. “Like he did Susan? He made no pretence to defend her!”

Morag felt suddenly cold. She had forgotten all about Susan for the moment.

“Did she need his protection?” she asked.

“She was his wife too. He allowed her to do as she pleased. He did not protect her by calling her to heel -” “Perhaps he trusted her,” Morag put in.

Takis favoured her with a glittering smile. “Would you like to be so

trusted?” He laughed softly. “Not by Pericles, you would not!”

She was saved from having to answer by someone coming up behind

her. She looked around and saw that it was Pericles. She turned to him

at once. “Did you want me?” she asked.

“My mother is getting ready to show her paintings. She wants you to

help her to arrange them.” He looked curiously at her. “She tells me our

wedding present is among them.” Morag cast him an unconscious look

of appeal. “Only if you like it,” she began to explain. “You may not want

it!” “I shall hardly hurt my mother’s feelings by saying so!” he said dryly.

“No,” Morag agreed. “But Dora herself said you might not like it. She

wouldn’t want to hang it if you don’t!” Pericles put his hand on her

upper arm, pushing her forcibly through the door and out into the hall.

“Never mind that just now,” he bade her grimly. “What was Takis saying

to you?”

“Nothing!”

“I prefer you keep it that way! You have nothing to say to him, no matter how he flatters you and makes eyes at you -”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it!” “Doesn’t he?” Pericles’ hand tightened about her arm until she uttered a cry of protest. “I warn you again, Morag, if you want to flirt with anyone, flirt with me!’

“Why should I?” she demanded, rubbing her arm.

He said something in Greek which she didn’t understand, though she thought she recognised the words yineka mou which she knew to mean ‘my woman’.

“You don’t own me!” she said.

He laughed and pushed her before him into his mother’s studio. “Don’t tempt me, Morag.”

Tempt him? She didn’t think she could, otherwise she would have done so this long time past. Sometimes she thought she was fixing herself in his mind and heart, but mostly she knew better and that as far as he was concerned she was no more than someone he had found to look after his children. Of course he liked to keep things normal on the outside, but it seemed she was alone in longing for love. He was able to