Pagan Lover (21 page)

‘How do you come to be here? It’s a miracle! I couldn’t believe it was you!’

‘The police managed to get hold of a clue—after weeks of drawing blank,’ he told her, going on to explain that it was the porter who—having been off work for several weeks—provided the clue when, after making many other enquiries as to the people Tara had mixed with, the police returned to the hospital to ask more questions of the staff there. ‘
Tara darling, why didn’t you tell me that that damned fellow had sent you flowers?’

‘I couldn’t—don’t ask me why I should be so reluctant to tell you, David. I thought it would be less upsetting all round if I just kept silent.’

‘You also kept silent about the phone calls,’ the policeman inserted in tones of censure. ‘If you’d told someone we’d have had you back long ago.’

‘The police followed up the clue provided by the porter,’ David explained. ‘With that bit of information they really got busy and the next thing was that the telephone operator, reminded of the Greek, then recalled that a man with a slight foreign accent had been trying to get you on the phone but you’d told her not to put the calls through.’ He paused and looked down at her with the same expression of censure as the policeman had just a moment ago. ‘You told the operator that this man was making a nuisance of himself.’

She nodded and coloured guiltily.

‘I should have confided in you, David, and I don’t know why I didn’t....’ Her voice drifted away, her cheeks hot as she recalled the passionate interludes spent with the man who at that time was a stranger to her. It would have seemed odd indeed if she had complained to her fiancé that she was being pestered by a man, while at the same time participating willingly— eagerly—in the most ardent and intimate love-making with the man in question.

‘If only you had, then he’d never have kidnapped you—you do realise that?’

She was silent, not at all sure of his confident assertion, because, knowing her husband so well, she certainly would never take bets on his failing to do what he set out to do.

The Greek policeman—who had been introduced to her by David as Phivos Meriakis—returned with the information that Davos was as uncommunicative as a deaf mute.

‘Scared of his employer,’ he added in a disgusted and strongly accented voice. ‘I’ve scared him, though!’

They all went into the house and once in the cool and restful atmosphere of the sitting-room,
Tara felt more calm, more able to appreciate what had happened. She was able to consider her situation, to savour the knowledge that her husband’s tryanny was finished, that he could no longer hold her prisoner. She was able also to answer coherently the questions put to her both by the Greek policeman and by Oscar Stewart, the English policeman. David sat forward on his chair, listening, and Tara heard a little groan issue from his lips when he learned of the ultimatum put to her by
Leon, and of the choice she had made.

‘So you’re married? Oh, God, the swine!’

‘It was marriage or the other, as I’ve just said.’ She could have wept for the misery she saw in David’s honest, English face. ‘You must surely have known that I’d be in a horrible position?’

‘I didn’t dare think about it,’ he shuddered. ‘I’ve been through hell with my imagination! Another shiver passed through him and for a space he obviously found it impossible to form words. ‘I tried not to think that anything abominable could happen to the girl I loved.’ His voice seemed to draw away slowly, and as she watched his face with a strange indefinable fascination she saw the change in his expression as a look of distaste replaced the unhappiness.

It would seem that he could hardly bear the thought that another man had owned her. It was an understandable emotion,
Tara admitted, and yet…

‘Married,’ he was murmuring to himself, ‘married to another man, and a foreigner. . . Another man doing that to her—’ Abruptly he snapped off his words, and colour fused his cheeks.

‘You could never forget that I’ve been married to someone else?’ she asked him curiously. An odd unfathomable sensation had come to her, bringing doubts that were as inexplicable as they were hazy. She had loved her fiancé dearly at the time of the abduction, and for a few highly emotional and grateful seconds out there just now, in the garden, she had believed she loved him still. But what of her husband? She had admitted that she loved
him
... and it was not possible to love two men.

‘I—I——— Oh, hell,
Tara,’ be exploded, wiping the sweat from his brow, ‘don’t ask me questions like that at present! I can’t think straight—’

‘But you must have been prepared for something like this?’ interrupted
Tara gently. ‘I’d been abducted— and no girl’s abducted for nothing. The man who abducted me had designs on me—’

‘Be quiet,
Tara!’

‘Can we get on to something more important?’ suggested Oscar Stewart impatiently. ‘Where is your husband now?’

‘He’s out, in the village.’

‘We want him for questioning.’

‘How did you find him?’ asked
Tara curiously.

‘Easy. Through Interpol.’

‘Interpol....’ The very word was hateful to her, bringing her husband into the category of a criminal.

‘I’d like to ask you more questions while we wait for your husband to come back.’ It was the English policeman, Oscar Stewart, who spoke, and she gave him her whole attention. ‘You obviously married Mr Petrides willingly. What I can’t understand is why you didn’t enlist help from the man who married you?’

‘Yes,’ interposed David, ‘why didn’t you? You could have done, surely?’

She explained everything from beginning to end and even before she had finished the Greek policeman was shaking his head.

‘There’s no case against him,’ he began, when Oscar Stewart interrupted him.

‘There was an abduction, and it took place in
England—’

‘An abduction with intent to marry,’ interrupted the Greek. ‘In any case, this young woman cannot give evidence against her husband.’

Oscar Stewart’s mouth went tight; that he was angry was evident. As for Tara’s reaction ... well, she hadn’t for one moment relished the idea of her husband being taken to
England under arrest. Of course, he must always have known that even if the matter did happen to be carried that far, she would not be able to give evidence against him, for that was the law. Something in her expression must have caught David’s attention— perhaps her relief that there would be no case against her husband—for he said, staring at her in some perplexity,

‘You—still love me?’ The hesitant start convinced her that he had re-phrased the original question that had come to his lips. He had intended asking if she was in love with her husband.

‘All I want at present, David,’ she returned frankly, ‘is to get away from here, back to
England, where I can begin getting over the ordeal.’

‘I understand, darling. Well, we can take you away at once.’

She gave him a smile, reflecting on those occasions when his endearments thrilled her and when she had never believed the day would dawn when they would leave her cold, as his use of the endearment did at this moment.

If only
Leon had used it.... He would not know I how! She felt sure he had never used the word darling in the whole of his life.

‘How long will Mr Petrides be?’ the Greek policeman wanted to know. ‘Although there’s no case, we shall have to ask him a few questions, and then tell him we’re taking you away.’ He paused, looking directly at her through faintly narrowed eyes. You’re sure you want to leave him?’ he asked, and David gave a start, at the same time uttering an angry exclamation.

‘Certainly she wants to leave him! Hasn’t she already made that quite clear?’

Tara rose from her chair, offering to get the men some refreshment. Oscar Stewart wanted a cup of tea, while his Greek counterpart asked for
ouzo
and a
mezé
’. David had a stronger drink—a brandy.

These were brought by Stamati, who had obviously been told about the visitors by Davos, because he was looking extremely worried.

‘Why don’t you go and pack your clothes?’ suggested David. ‘We don’t want to miss the next ferry and have to spend the night at the hotel down there, on the quay.’

She looked at him, frowning at the idea of spending the night at the hotel when her husband’s house was here. It was stupid, and yet surely she wanted to get away with all speed, shake the soil of that garden off her heels? There had been many lonesome hours spent out there—a prisoner, constantly watched. And now she was free to leave it all and return to her own country. She found herself thinking of the hospital, and of all the gossip there would be, and she decided she could never go back, nor could she take up with David again. What would she do, then? As before—and as she had just mentioned to David—she resolved to take first things first; she would get away from here and then sort out plans for her future.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT seemed impossible that her husband could put fear into her at a time like this, when she had the protection of three men, two of whom were from her own country. And yet there was a most uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach when, from the window of the sitting-room, she saw
Leon crossing the lawn. In his hand was a large cardboard box, the contents of which I would have been exciting to most women.

Davos ran to him; she saw him stiffen, dart a glance towards the window, then come forward again with much longer strides than before. Well, he obviously had no fear within him—but then she had known he would accept the present situation in a way that, at first, could possibly disconcert the enemy.

He strode in, his tall figure towering above those of the other three, men, all of whom had risen from their chairs.
Leon was soon told who they were and the nature of their business. Watching him intently,
Tara never once saw any sign that he was anxious or apprehensive. His eyes were continually finding hers while the two policemen talked to him, but on a couple of occasions
Leon’s black eyes became fixed on David’s pale face, and a sneer would settle on his own. How confident he was!
Tara could not stem the flow of pride that this confidence brought to her. It would seem that whatever the circumstances he would ride them with all the supreme arrogance of the pagan gods which his ancestors had worshipped.

When the two men had finished speaking—and asking questions which
Leon had answered either in monosyllables or not at all—he looked at his wife and said,

‘Apparently you have told these men that you married me willingly?’

‘Yes, I have.’ She looked away without knowing why, for there was neither censure nor arrogance in his expression—on the contrary, there did seem to be a hint of sadness in his eyes. Perhaps it was this which she just had to avoid.

‘In which case, you have absolutely nothing to complain about?’

‘She has a hell of a lot to complain about!’ shouted David hotly. ‘Your damned treatment of her in taking her off on the day of her wedding—only an hour or so before she was to have been married to me!’

The tall lithe frame swung round.

‘
Tara promised to marry me long before her wedding day,’ he informed him calmly. ‘She jilted me to marry you, which I could not accept. She knows in her heart that I did the right thing in carrying her off—’

‘She was engaged to you!’ David looked from the dark face of the man who had stolen his bride, to the face of the girl herself. It was fused with crimson colour, and tiny beads of perspiration stood out on her temples. ‘This isn’t true! It can’t possibly be—I’d never heard of this man until you mentioned his being in hospital!’

‘Is this true?’ from Oscar Stewart with a deep frown. ‘You were engaged?’ intervened the Greek policeman, shaking his head. ‘If this is correct then—’ He broke off and shrugged heavily. ‘In
Greece an engagement is almost the marriage. It is never broken—or almost never broken,’ he amended after a swift moment of thought.

‘I was never engaged to Mr Petrides,’ said
Tara in a stiff little voice which was nothing like her own.

‘I didn’t mention the word engaged.’
Leon looked at her, and when she lowered her head he had the arrogance to step forward and, in front of them all, jerk her head up with a possessive hand under her chin. ‘You promised to marry me.’ So slow the words, and challenging. A thrill of apprehension rippled along her spine. ‘I assume you are not going to lie, wife! Did you or did you not promise to marry me?’ He was towering above her, a menacing figure with whom none of the three men seemed inclined to interfere as he gave his wife’s chin another jerk, just to remind her that he expected an immediate answer to his question.

‘Yes—yes, I d-did promise to—to m-marry you,’ she admitted chokingly.

‘You couldn’t have—! ‘David was shaking his head dazedly. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ he demanded of
Leon. ‘How long have you known her?’

‘We met when he was in hospital,’ said Tara, white to the lips and wishing she could escape to some quiet spot and collect herself, restore her jagged nerves. ‘He believed we—we were meant for one another, and he did convince me at one time that he and I were—were suited—’