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Authors: Elizabeth Hunter

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BOOK: The Beads of Nemesis
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“ Yinka, for someone who can’t kiss, you certainly would have fooled me!”

She took a deep breath, struggling to maintain a modicum of dignity. “Don’t call me Greek names! I don’t know what they mean!” She longed to fling herself back into his arms, to plead with him to kiss her again, but she knew that she couldn’t do that.

“I’ll call you any names I please,” he said, the mockery back in his voice.

She blinked. “I wouldn’t mind in English.” She bit her lip, thinking

that sounded craven. “Perry, I never - never kissed anyone like that

before - ”

“I should hope not!” he cut her off.

“I didn’t know-”

He stopped her words with his mouth. “Hush, I know that too, Morag, I know it all!”

“How can you?” she wondered.

He kissed her hard and put her away from him, giving her a little push, even while he smiled at her. “Freedom is more dearly bought, sweetheart. That paid for your pride as far as your family is concerned. The payment I set on mine will ask more of you than that!”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“You will!” he retorted, and she couldn’t tell whether he meant it as a threat or a promise.

She bent her head. “I’ll try to be a good wife to you.” She thought perhaps his silence meant that he wasn’t convinced. “I l-liked it just now

- when you kissed me. If—if that’s what you want - ”

He tipped her head up until her eyes, dark with embarrassment, met his.

“But what do you want, Morag? What do you want so much that you’ll beg for it? When will you take because you need to take more than you need the luxury of giving? That’s what you have to pay for my pride!”

There was no answer to that. She had never gone down on her knees to anyone and she never would. Not even for the kisses of Pericles Holmes! But she felt cold when he took his hand away and colder still when he turned his back on her and left her alone with her own chaotic thoughts.

They left Athens Airport in bright sunshine with a temperature of more than ninety degrees and came down three hours later into a wet, windy day in London that made for a rough landing and a quick dash from the aeroplane to the nearby terminal buildings. Rather to Morag’s surprise, her whole family assembled to meet her and, while she was waiting for Pericles to collect their suitcases and carry them through the Green Channel of the Customs, she caught sight of them waiting on the other side and she was struck anew by her stepsister’s pale looks and the confident way she looked about her, sure that she was attracting every

male eye in the place. Nor was her confidence misplaced. Morag watched, with what she told herself was amusement, as a good-looking young man brushed against Delia’s shoulder, turned with a wide grin to apologise, and immediately stayed to make the most of the incident.

“So that is Delia,” Pericles murmured in her ear. “What a very dishy young woman.” Stung, Morag wished she could deny it. “I told you she was,” she answered. “I told you that you’d like her too!”

Pericles looked amused. “So you did. Do you think it’s too soon for me to give her a brotherly kiss of greeting?” Morag didn’t bother to reply. It didn’t matter what she did, she thought, Delia was bound to take over, and Pericles would follow her lead, and it would be just like David all over again. Any man had only to see Delia to want to kiss her.

She cast Pericles a swift, reproachful look and was not surprised to see he was smiling. It was an anticipatory smile, as if he already knew just how much he was going to enjoy dallying with Delia. Well, if she had anything to do with it, he would not be given the opportunity!

“I don’t think it would be at all suitable! she snapped,” her head held high. “Besides, you owe me something too! Or have you forgotten already?”

His smile grew deeper and she thought it had a rather triumphant air to it. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said. “You won’t have any cause for complaint - while we’re in England. Afterwards - ”

“Afterwards we’ll be back in Greece with the children,” she attempted humour. “It won’t matter then!”

“I expect your family will come out and stay with us from time to time. I certainly mean to do all I can to see that we stay on good terms with all of them!”

I'll bet, she thought. And all this after one glimpse of Delia! What was it going to be like when he had spent a whole week in her company?

Delia settled the whole question of the kiss by coming straight up to Pericles and offering him her face. “I ought to congratulate you,” she said huskily, “but I know Morag too well to do that. I think I’ll congratulate her instead! How did she manage to find an Adonis like you, even in the wilds of Greece?”

“I expect she’ll tell you herself,” Pericles answered smoothly. He turned away to shake Morag’s father’s hand and to be introduced to her stepmother. When he felt he had made himself sufficiently agreeable to them both, he put an arm about Morag’s shoulders and smiled down at

her.

Morag was so busy reminding herself that he didn’t mean what his smile was telling her that she was quite unprepared for her stepsister’s sudden exclamation.

“My dear Morag, where did you get that dreadful necklace? Let’s have a look at it!” She pulled at the shells which Morag had put on under her jumper and laughed out loud. “It would be quite pretty if it weren’t for those terrible green beads! Morag, you ought to know better than to wear such rubbish.”

“I like them!” Morag declared.

Pericles grinned at her. He pulled the necklace out from under her jumper and rearranged it round her neck, making, she felt, the most of the moment and plainly enjoying her own shy attempts to prevent him.

“I gave them to her,” he told the others. “She’s under the protection of

the goddess Nemesis when she wears them - ”

“Yes, but I don’t believe that!” Morag protested.

“Then why wear them now, darling?” he said.

“I thought they’d get crushed in my suitcase.” It wasn’t true. She hadn’t thought about it at all. But it seemed as good a reason as any other. She would not admit, even to herself, that it was because he had given them to her. She had worn them constantly ever since, hiding them under her dress, or with a scarf round her neck. It was the only thing he had given her!

“Nemesis?” Delia said vaguely. “Seem to have heard about her. Doesn’t she creep up behind people, dropping swords on their heads?”

Pericles frowned. “Not swords, no. I don’t think you can have the right lady.” He sounded short to the point of rudeness.

“No,” Mr. Grant said soberly. He gave his stepdaughter an affectionate look mixed with admiration. “Delia’s facts are always well chosen to suit herself. Nemesis sought out and punished evildoers.”

“And compensated those who suffered,” Morag put in, not looking at Delia. “I went to visit her temple in Greece.” Delia managed a very creditable smile. “What a good thing she has no jurisdiction in

England!” she shot at Morag.

Mrs. Grant giggled. “Goodness, yes! But we mustn’t bring up any painful memories for Morag today. She has obviously forgotten all about David - poor boy! We must try and do the same, Delia. After all,

he was her fiance!” Morag coloured guiltily, seeking to evade Pericles’ restraining arm while she thought of some devastating retort. But Pericles would not allow it. He gave Mrs. Grant a cool, considering look and then he smiled.

“Perhaps Morag had less to forget,” he drawled. “Calf love is painful at the time, especially when one’s beloved is not particularly faithful, or particularly particular, come to that, but one grows out of such foolishness!”

Morag gave him a look of-exasperation. “Calf-love?”

He raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Wasn’t it?”

Her cheeks burned. “I suppose you know best,” she managed to say.

He flicked her cheek with a gentle finger, but his attention had already wandered and she knew, without looking at him, that he was covertly studying her stepsister.

It was strange to be back in her father’s house and to sleep in the room which had been hers all through her childhood. From the window she could see the stretch of road where that fateful evening the car had come weaving towards the gates, only to crash into the telegraph-pole on the far side of the road.. Morag stood at the window for a long time, trying to recall what it was that she had felt then that had compelled her to take Delia’s place at the wheel, after hurrying her stepsister up into the house and telling her to call the police. She must have been mad! How could she have thought that David mattered so much to her that his lightest interest had to be protected at such a cost?. She sighed, glad that it was getting dark and that it was time to change her dress. She had brooded for long enough. She had other things to think about now. Pericles, for example.

Coming home had had one unlooked-for advantage in that she was reunited with her wardrobe and no longer had to make do with what she had been able to carry in her knapsack. It took her all of ten minutes to decide which dress to wear. Her stepmother thought it was unlucky to wear green and so Morag had only one dress of that colour, and she chose it now, knowing that it brought out the green of her eyes and made her hair look darker and richer against the soft glow of the silk. Having made up her mind, it took her much less time to slip off the clothes she had been wearing, to put on a long petticoat, and to slide the green dress over her head, letting the wide skirt fall to her feet.

A knock at her door interrupted her efforts to pull up the zip behind her back.

“Come in,” she called out. She heard the door open and went on quite crossly, “Do me up, will you? I think it’s stuck!”

“Very pretty!” Pericles congratulated her.

She twisted round to face him. “I thought you were Delia!”

“Your father sent me up to fetch you. He wants to toast our health before dinner.” His eyes looked her over with appreciation. “You’ll have to turn round if you want me to fix your zip.”

She turned her back, shivering as his fingers came in contact with her bare skin. “I wish Kimon and Peggy were here,” she said. “They might have enjoyed all the fuss.”

“Meaning that you’re not?”

“Not much,” she said.

“Then you don’t want me to leave you here and to go back to Greece on my own?” She started undoing the few inches of zip he had managed to do up. “Oh, Perry, you wouldn’t! Please don’t tease me! I’ll do anything - ”

“Anything?”

Her hands clutched at and found his sleeve. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “Only don’t leave me here! You can’t! You said you’d marry me!”

“You said you’d marry me, but I can’t help wondering if you know what you’re doing, Morag Grant. You’re not marrying Kimon and Peggy!”

“I know that!”

A gleam of amusement lit his eyes. “I wonder. I think you’re more intent on having some kind of revenge on your family. But it will be you who will have to live with it, karthia mou. I don’t want you to rush into something you may regret.”

She turned her back on him again, finding it easier not to look at him. “It isn’t only that,” she said. “I won’t pretend that I’m not enjoying - well, you know how it is! You’re so modest that you don’t know that you’re better than good-looking and - very attractive! But I wouldn’t make use of you like that!”

“Not even to get at Delia?”

Morag did not deign to reply as he finished zipping her up and turned her round to face him. “This is the last chance I shall give you to change your mind, Morag. I’ll try not to rush you, but there can be no going back on your decision now.”

She looked down, veiling her eyes with her long lashes. “I’ve said I want to marry you,” she said quietly. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I hope it will be - for you,” he answered.

She looked up at him then, the colour creeping up her cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean?”

He gave her a little shake. “I could beat you when you pretend to be obtuse!” he growled at her. “Don’t count on my being patient with you forever! One day I’ll make you say it, all of it! You make a mistake if you think you can lead me by the nose for long! I am a man, and I won’t play second fiddle to any chit of a girl. Is that clear enough for you?”

She nodded. “But you did promise that you’d pretend to be in love with me while we’re here - Pericles, please - ” “Yes?”

But she couldn’t go on. “You promised!” she said again. His eyes narrowed and she was once more afraid of him. “I didn’t promise to pretend anything. I promised to save your pride.” '

“But it’s the same thing!”

“No, yineka mou, it’s not the same thing at all. Come on, we’d better go down to the others.” He opened the door for her and stood back to let her pass. “By the way, did I tell you that I like your dress?”

She made a humble gesture with her hand and was surprised when he captured it in his own. To hide her pleasure, she rushed into speech. “You said you liked green. I put it on for you!”

He bent and kissed her cheek. “Very pretty, pedhi, but it’s the words I want, and it’s the words I mean to have!”

It was strange to be married. Stranger still to find herself the equal of her stepmother and no longer the lesser loved daughter of the house. Morag enjoyed herself. She made the most of every moment of it from the time she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, for once the centre of his attention, right up to the last goodbye from the last of the guests.

True, it was a peculiarly solemn moment when she promised to love, honour, and obey him for the rest of her life, but the look in Pericles’ eyes had started a blaze of hope that had stayed with her all day and even now had not quite died away.

“Happy, my dear?” her father asked her, easing himself out of his coat with a sigh of relief.

“Very happy!”

“You’re a lucky girl. I don’t mind telling you now that I was a bit worried about you and David. He didn’t strike me as being your type -far more in Delia’s line, if you know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t,” Morag said, frowning.

“Bit flashier in her tastes than you,” her father rejoined. “He would have ended up with her - if he hadn’t already. You’re like your mother, and Delia is very like hers. I’m a lucky man to have known both. Don’t misunderstand me, darling, my second marriage is a very happy one. One could not hope for the same generosity a second time such as your mother had. Is that what this Greek man has seen in you?”

BOOK: The Beads of Nemesis
4.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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