Stormy the Way (17 page)

Both she and Paul would come out of it in a very bad light, and Tara wished with all her heart that she had never agreed to the boy's proposal. She would then never have met Leon, and fallen in love with him, only to suffer an ever greater hurt than the hurt she had suffered at Ricky's hands so short a time ago.

And yet, as she tried to imagine Leon's never having entered into her life, she felt she would be the poorer for it. Loving, even if it were not returned, was a thing that enriched, that took possession of one compartment of one's mind where treasures could be stored in the form of memories. And she did have a few happy memories to store.

There had been that period of her illness when Leon was a totally different man from the black- robed Satan who had ruthlessly taken her in anger. He had been gentle and anxious, and afterwards when he had come to her he had been a tender lover, coaxing a response where previously he had forced it.

Yes, she had a few memories ... memories gathered before she knew that Leon was betraying her by continuing his affair with the woman he had had before their marriage.

'I'd better go.' Paul's voice broke into her musings and she gave him her attention. 'The call's going to cost a bomb. Oh, by the way, have you made any progress about my money?'

She hesitated and then,

'Leon hasn't made up his mind, Paul. And in any case, I'm not at all sure that you're capable of handling a large fortune—'

'What! Are you on his side suddenly?'

'I believe you receive an adequate allowance, Paul. Are you gambling?'

A long pause that told her all she wanted to know.

'I have a flutter on a horse now and then,' he admitted sulkily.

'More than a flutter,' she responded with conviction. 'No, Paul, don't expect any help from me. Were you to get your fortune you would probably squander it in no time at all. In my opinion Leon knows exactly what he's doing and if you want your money you'll have to convince him that you can take care of it.'

'Well,' he exploded, 'I never thought you'd turn like this! So you're not going to put in a good word for me after all?'

'I've just told you I'm not.' A small silence and then, resignedly, 'But you won't give away our deception, either?'

'Obviously I won't. I've no wish that Leon shall learn about the part I played in that. You misled me; I know this now.'

'I only wanted what's my own,' snapped Paul in the same sulky tones.

'I'll have to ring off,' he added abruptly. 'I haven't the money for the call as it is.'

Hanging up the receiver, she drew an exasperated breath. It was no wonder Leon had branded his stepbrother immature. He could just as easily have sent a letter; Tara would have received it three days after it was posted. But Paul preferred to use the phone - without thought of what the cost would be. At least, he hadn't thought about the cost until after the call was made. The main trouble with Paul was that he never did stop to think.

Tara glanced through the window as Leon appeared, striding easily across the lawn on his way from his study. A half-smile touched his lips as their eyes met on his reaching the patio. He tapped on the window and she stepped forward to open it for him. The smile still played about his mouth, amused, sardonic, because of her heightened colour and the way she hid her expression by lowering her lashes. A finger tilted her head and his eyes lit with humour.

'Shy?' He shook his head and was grave suddenly. 'Strange, unfathomable girl. Tell me, why did you become engaged to Paul?'

The question, coming so unexpectedly, resulted in a stunned silence, during which Leon's searching gaze never left her face, nor was his hand removed from her chin.

'You know why. For his money—'

'Careful, Tara,' came the dangerously quiet warning. 'You do ask for it, don't you?'

He was puzzled; she had known this, of course, before hearing what Paul had to say. He was suspicious too, and she scarcely knew how to adopt a cautious enough attitude, one that would allay these suspicions.

'You said yourself that I was too old for Paul. I was tempted by his money— Yes, I was, Leon! Don't you dare ill-treat me again or I'll walk out on you!' she added as his eyes smouldered suddenly.

'Walk out?' He seemed to be jerked into a sober mood by this threat, and his hand dropped to his side. 'You'd leave me?' She failed to answer and with returning confidence he added, 'I think not, Tara.

You and I have a need of one another.'

Her cheeks flooded with colour. She lifted her chin, and her eyes glinted with fire. 'That's not true! I haven't the least need of you - or of any man, for that matter—'

'What a typically feminine statement,' he interrupted sardonically.

'Why do your sex always emphatically deny any desire for the pleasures of nature?'

She swallowed, and glanced away, embarrassed.

'Have you no delicacy?' she asked.

'It's indelicate to discuss intimacies with my wife?'

'If - if I were your proper wife....' She allowed her voice to trail away to silence as her husband opened his eyes, very wide.

'Aren't you my proper wife?'

Again she swallowed. She tried to think of Helena, just so she could keep in mind the fact of his infidelity. But somehow, as he looked at this moment - assured and possessive as his eyes stared straightly into hers — it was practically impossible to believe in his betrayal of her.

'In s-some ways I suppose I am your - your proper wife.'

Amusement edged his voice when after a small hesitation he spoke.

'Your delicacy makes up for my lack of it. In some ways. . ..' He laughed quietly. 'A pretty and subtle way of putting it.' And then, more firmly and with emphasis, 'You're very much my proper wife, Tara, and no matter how strongly you deny it, you do have a need of me ... and you always will have.'

As the days passed and Tara dwelt on these words of her husband's, spoken with such confidence and strength, she came to the conclusion that he had been right. She did have a need of him, and always would have. But it was not quite so simple as he assumed; she did need him physically, true, but greater needs by far occupied the forefront of her mind. She needed his companionship, his interest, his attention. She yearned for a tenderness to be shown her, for concern ... for love in its entirety. As the days passed she also thought about his firm statement that he would not be going into Athens again for some weeks, as she knew that this meant that he would not be going away at all, since Athens must inevitably be the excuse he would use when he visited Helena; How strange that, after visiting the Greek girl so recently, he should now so calmly and indifferently keep away from her. Tara's heartbeats increased as the idea took root that perhaps he
had
decided to finish with her - or it could have been the other way round: Helena could have decided that, after all, she wanted nothing more to do with him now that he was married.

However, in spite of his staying at home his manner towards his wife underwent no change whatsoever; he was cool but civil, remote but not actually unkind. There were no violent scenes, but no tender ones.

On the whole, Leon appeared to be in a state where he bided his time, waiting for something. But what? She often surprised a darkling expression in his eyes; she just as often sensed that he was wrapped in a cloak of obstinacy where he himself could have cleared the air but was determined that his waiting game should be maintained. Puzzled in the extreme, she one evening spoke her thoughts aloud. She and Leon were on their way home from a visit to Takis and Grace, where they had dined and wined and, in all, passed a most delightful evening. Leon was driving the car, quite slowly, into the hills that rose up behind the harbour with its shining private 'lake'. It was a cool night but clear, with a myriad stars reflected in the calm dark waters and a crescent moon peeping from behind one jagged peak that stood, almost grotesquely silhouetted against the deep purple sky. Leon had not spoken since they left the villa with its lights and fountain and rather flamboyantly-set-out gardens. He seemed absorbed and even brooding, just as if he were not quite happy about something.

'You're so often quiet, Leon - the way you are at this moment. I wish I knew what you were thinking?' She felt in a soft and pliable mood; a tender word from her husband would have lifted her spirits to the sky.

He half-turned his head to glance at her profile.

'You'd like to know my thoughts, eh?' A slight curve of his mouth accompanied this, but there was no humour in the smile. On the contrary, Tara felt that he was on the borders of anger. 'That goes for me too,' he added presently. 'I'd be interested in knowing what you were thinking about at times.' Something very subtle indeed here, she thought with a frown. He might almost be throwing out a challenge for her to come right out into the open. ... But in that case it would meant that he knew she was aware of his continued association with Helena, and this was not the case.

Helena had kept silent about her visit to Poros, that was quite plain, for otherwise Leon himself must inevitably have broached the matter.

Tara gave a deep sigh; it was all so puzzling, and she had the unhappy conviction that it would continue to be puzzling.

T have no idea what you mean by that,' she said at length. 'I haven't anything important to think about.'

'No?' with a slight compression of his mouth. Then neither have I.'

His foot went down on the accelerator and the car shot forward up the hill, crunching on the gravel covering the rather primitive, narrow road leading right up to the gates of the villa grounds. They were open and the car went swiftly through them. 'Good night,' said Leon abruptly as soon as they were in the house
.
'I'm going to bed.'

'Good night...' Her spirits sank right into her feet. What had she done to bring about so sudden a change in her husband? At the villa, with Takis and his wife, Leon had been in a most attractive mood and his glances for his wife were affectionate and smiling. For the benefit of his friends? Perhaps, but even so the present change was so marked as to be almost dramatic, What was he trying to do to her? He had told her he had married her to save Paul, and this she knew was the truth.

But his subsequent acceptance of her as his wife had brought with it a certain measure of - tolerance, at least. But recently - since his return from Aegina - he had adopted a distinctly offhand attitude towards her with, at times, a marked hostility. And this was one of those times. She sighed, quiveringly, and after a few minutes followed him upstairs. Just when life was becoming bearable, and she was beginning to be optimistic about a gradually improving relationship developing between her and Leon, he would suddenly switch again to a man who was almost unapproachable.

And the following day his hostility was even more marked; it was taken to the point where his voice when he spoke to her was almost harsh. And his manner was one of condemnation and, strangely, that of a man who has been grossly injured or misjudged. Puzzling as this impression was to Tara, she could find no explanation for it and she resolutely dismissed it from her mind, sure she was allowing her imagination to run away with her.

During November Androula came home for a few days, as she had not been too well.

'I've been working too hard,' she replied in answer to Leon's inquiry a moment after she had arrived at the quay. He and Tara had gone to meet the ferry and he adopted a sceptical expression almost before his sister had finished speaking.

T doubt it,' he returned, taking her suitcase from her and putting it into the boot of the car. 'Probably too many parties, and late nights.

When I was there I worked!'

Androula sighed and gave a grimace, which was meant for Tara's eyes only.

'You're so stodgy, Leon,' she complained, sitting in the back seat and crossing her elegant legs. 'I don't expect you worked all the time.

Nobody does.'

% don't know why I allow you to stay there. I ought to marry you off to someone who would school you.'

Androula seemed tensed suddenly, as if deeply affected by his words.

But she merely produced the retort which Tara would have expected of her.

'You know very well I'd not let you marry me off! I shall choose my own husband. You've always known that.'

'Careful,' he warned, getting into the car after having assisted Tara into her seat. 'You're going to find yourself waiting until you're thirty for your money, my girl!'

Androula fell silent immediately, but later, when she and Tara were alone, she asked what was wrong with Leon.

'He's so bad-tempered,' she added petulantly, as if the matter was of some importance to her comfort. 'And his letters recently haven't been nice at all. He seems to be in some sort of a horrid mood. You're happy together?' She looked apologetically at Tara, but added, when she received no answer, 'If you weren't it might explain everything.'

'We're perfectly happy,' returned Tara at length, hoping the lie was successfully hidden by her calm and untroubled tone.

'I thought you must be. Then what,' added Androula with a sigh, 'is wrong with my brother? I've always found favour with him, because I'm steady and good—' She broke off, having the grace to blush as Tara's brows rose, though quite unintentionally. 'Well, he thinks I'm good.'

Tara had to laugh, but she was remembering that Leon was not quite so unobservant as his sister would believe. However, she naturally kept to herself this fact and went on to say,

'It could be that Leon has business worries at present. This mood will pass before very long.'

'I sincerely hope so,' with feeling from Androula who was hanging a cocktail dress in the wardrobe. 'I have something important to ask him.'