by Anne Hampson
‘Don’t look like that. I don’t mind about Greta.’
‘You don’t? But then the English are broad-minded about these things. Never fear, though, Liz, he’ll be finished with her now.’
Liz didn’t care whether he had or not, but naturally she kept that to herself. She mused for a space on the situation and saw no reason at all why Nigel should finish with Greta. He would probably explain why he’d had to marry; Greta would accept that it was a necessity, and on learning there was nothing between Liz and her husband she would almost certainly agree to carry on in the same old way. That would suit Liz. For the memory of that kiss and that ardent embrace was still with her. She wouldn’t care for any nonsense of that sort to enter her husband’s head.
‘Where does Greta live?’ Liz asked curiously. ‘Does she work at all?’
‘She lives here in Kastri - or Delphi, as most of us call it. Her father was employed on antiquities, but he’s retired now. Greta acts as a guide now and then - at the Sanctuary over there. She and her parents aren’t short of money. An uncle died last year and left them pretty well off. I think Greta does this guiding merely as a diversion.’
‘Has - has she been friendly with Nigel for long?’
‘A couple of years. Nigel’s stuck to her longer than most-’ He stopped, dismayed, then he gave a shrug of resignation. ‘I’m a big idiot! - but it’s too late now to undo it. Nigel’s been a bit of a rake, but don’t worry, Liz - please don’t worry,’ he emphasized, looking anxiously at her. ‘Nigel’s not the man to be unfaithful. You won’t worry? Do say you won’t.’
Her eyes lit with amusement. If only he knew!
‘I won’t worry,’ she promised.
‘And you won’t tell Nigel I made that slip?’
‘I’ll not say a word.’
As the afternoon wore on Liz and Spiros seemed very quickly to get to know one another, and to her surprise she found herself enjoying his company. He was gay and witty, and he was informative, telling her about the Sanctuary and the surrounding districts. She must certainly go to Amphissa, and to Itea - and he himself would be more than willing to take her should Nigel be away on business, which he often was, it seemed.
‘You’ll come with me?’
Trips of this nature would provide diversions in the monotony of her life, she decided, and said yes, she would go with him.
It was as he was about to leave that Spiros mentioned the will, asking Liz if she had heard about it. She became cagey, feigning puzzlement without actually saying anything.
Spiros then told her all about the will of Nigel’s great-grandfather, telling Liz how it was interdependent on that of another old man. He mentioned the broken engagement of her sister and finally he did say something which brought Liz forward in her chair, her blue eyes widening with interest.
‘Nigel’s known all along that those wills were invalid, because his lawyer told him so. The two men were millionaires, and they were very old when they changed their wills, being influenced by this stupid Fellowship — which was no more than a band of cranks. When Nigel’s great-grandfather died Nigel was all set to contest the will, but his lawyer advised him to wait until the other man died as the case would have more strength if the two families fought the wills together, and as Nigel’s almost a millionaire himself he naturally wasn’t in a hurry, so he took his lawyer’s advice and waited. However, when the second old man died there didn’t seem to be any point in contesting the wills because the clause I spoke about was complied with - as I’ve mentioned - by the engagement of this Vivien with Nigel’s half-brother. But this Vivien found she didn’t want to marry Arthur after all, so last week Nigel went to England to talk with this other family and arrange with them to contest both wills together. It would be a walk-over, Nigel’s lawyer said, and the wills would without doubt be declared null and void.’
As he proceeded with his narrative Liz felt she should break in, to inform Spiros who she was, but she refrained, too curious to interrupt. And even when he had stopped speaking she still remained silent, reflecting on that scene at the Hall when Nigel had taken over as it were and gone round all the family, suggesting marriages which he knew could not possibly take place ... until at last he came to Liz and himself. Liz now realized why she had been unable to accept the word ‘business’ to describe Nigel’s mission. For his mission - so Liz had then supposed - was merely to discover what had gone wrong between Vivien and Arthur, and endeavour to put it right. But he had not come on a mission at all. He had come, as he had obviously told Greta, on business - the business of setting in motion a lawsuit which would result in those two wills being quashed.
Liz’s eyes flickered with perception. Nigel must have wanted to marry her!
After coming to England for the express purpose of having those wills nullified he had suddenly changed his mind and decided to marry Liz. Yes, he had actually wanted to marry her. There was no other explanation, because Nigel was possessed of the knowledge that a marriage was in fact unnecessary. For some reason of his own Nigel had forced her into marriage. Liz’s rising anger began to possess her whole body. Forced into marriage! What a fool she had been. Where was her own intelligence? She also should have perceived at once that those two wills would never be upheld in a court. They were too ridiculous - yes, she could see this now - the testators having in their dotage been influenced by the Fellowship - an organization which had often provided copy for derisive, fun-poking newspapermen.
Forced into an unnecessary marriage ... and because of some whim of Nigel’s! Liz’s fists clenched and her nostrils quivered. She could at that moment have struck her husband dead without a moment’s compunction. If only he were here! But wait... he would learn a thing or two about her temper.
Nigel was away for ten days; Greta rang every day as threatened, but after the third day Liz lost patience and gave Nikos instructions to answer the phone. He looked oddly at Liz, as well he might, but she disregarded his stare - and the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. By this time she supposed Greta’s maid, having been put in possession of the fact that Liz occupied a single room, had duly passed on the information to her mistress, with the result that Greta must now be even more at a loss as to why her lover had married.
Liz was out when Nigel returned, having gone into the village to buy one or two small gifts to send to her family. She also had a wedding-present to buy for Vivien, but she found nothing in Kastri and decided to wait until she went down to Athens, she and Spiros having decided to make the trip at the end of the month, when he had a few days’ holiday. They would stay overnight, for the journey was too long and tiring to make in one day.
On seeing the car standing on the wide forecourt Liz felt a sudden surge of fury that threatened to consume her whole body.
‘Hello,’ was Nigel’s greeting as she came on to the patio where he was seated, drinking coffee. ‘Yassoo!’
She glowered at him, her eyes points of flint.
‘Perhaps you’ll explain,’ she said without preamble, ‘the reason why you tricked me into marriage?’
The merest silence and then, calmly,
‘Do you mind being a little more explicit?’ Picking up his coffee cup, Nigel took a drink and returned the cup to its saucer.
‘Your cousin Spiros called!’ she snapped. ‘He told me that you’ve always been aware of the invalidity of those wills! Explain, if you please, the reason for our marriage!’ Her voice had built up to a crescendo and it did nothing for her temper to see a pained and rather irritated expression appear on Nigel’s face. And he frowned at her as he said,
‘I’m not deaf, girl. Kindly speak more quietly - and more slowly - when addressing me.’ He looked her over, his green eyes coldly searching. ‘You appear to be losing control. This in a woman I cannot abide, and the sooner you learn to practise calm the better it will suit me. I noticed a similar lack of control in your attitude towards your sister,’ he added censoriously, seeming quite unaware of the rise of dark crimson in her c
heeks and the quivering movement of her nostrils. ‘If you expect to have my attention then sit down and relate to me, rationally, what Spiros has said to you.’
Liz pressed her teeth together; the grating sound was heard by Nigel and his eyes glinted, then measured her darkly. If only she had his man’s strength! If only she could strike a blow that would knock him to the ground!
‘I’ve just told you Spiros said you’d always known those wills would never hold in a court. You came to England for the specific purpose of seeing me - or some member of my family - to discuss the wills, with a view to contesting them.’ She moved closer so that she could look down at him instead of across at him. The gesture was not lost on Nigel and, had Liz known him better, she would have been duly warned by the haughty raising of those straight black brows. But as yet she and her husband were strangers and Liz continued, sublimely unaware of the exception Nigel had taken to her action, ‘What made you change your mind - I demand to know? I demand to know why I find myself married to you when I could have been free!’ Her voice vibrated with emotion - and it was still louder than it should be. Nigel pointed to a chair.
‘Sit down,’ he commanded, and Liz gaped at him, dumbfounded by his order.
‘I shall not!’ Sit down ...! Who did he think he was ordering about? But she instinctively took a few backward steps as Nigel rose from his chair and purposefully advanced upon her. Without giving her time to grasp his intention he lifted her off her feet and dumped her, none too gently, into the chair. Almost suffocating with fury, Liz instinctively made to rise, but Nigel’s hand, betraying by its pressure the powerful strength of its owner, kept her where she was.
‘Take care, Liz,’ came the soft, animal-like warning. ‘I told you I was neither a tolerant man nor an easy-going one. Try my patience too far and you might find yourself nursing a bruise or two.’
‘A-a—?’ Liz stared up at him unbelievingly. ‘Wh-what did you say?’ It wasn’t possible, she told herself; this couldn’t be happening to her - whose will and strength of character had always been so formidable that people thought twice before trying to oppose any law she might choose to make. At the Hall she had ruled them all; whatever she said went - without argument. Only Vivien had at last defied her, and for the first time in her life Liz had experienced defeat.
Well, she decided, grinding her teeth, she had no intention of experiencing defeat for a second time - especially at the hands of this heathen whom she had disliked excessively from the very moment of setting eyes on him at the fair. And she hadn’t forgiven or forgotten that kiss, which insulted; nor that unnecessary show of strength simply because she had resented the insult and tried to break away from his embrace. He had deliberately fettered her in hawsers of steel - just to demonstrate how puny were her efforts at freeing herself.
‘You heard me.’ That lazy drawl now as Nigel sat down in his chair, his eyes never leaving her face. Move, that expression warned, and she would very soon regret it. ‘Now, if you’re prepared to speak coherently I’m ready to listen—’
‘You’re not talking to a child!’ she interrupted, sending him a savage glance. ‘And I did not speak incoherently!’
Nigel drew an impatient breath, then said,
‘What’s the matter with you? It may interest you to know that up till now I’ve led a peaceful, well-organized life-’
‘Then you should have kept it peaceful and well-organized - and steered clear of me! I’ve asked you why you married me!’
‘You know why I married you.’
She glared at him.
‘Are you denying your original intention was to contest your great-grandfather’s will?’
He frowned at that and said impatiently,
‘Spiros talks too much. And it wouldn’t be so bad if he knew what he was talking about.’
‘He—?’ she looked suspiciously at him. ‘Don’t try to hoodwink me at this late stage! You must have informed Spiros of your confidence over that will. Why did you decide on marriage,’ she cried, ‘when the simplest way was to follow your original plan and contest the will? What made you change your mind?’
‘The simplest way was not the contesting of the will,’ he returned quietly, ignoring her last question. ‘The simplest way was the one I chose - marriage.’ He stopped, a sardonic light entering his eyes as he looked her over. ‘I’m thinking already that I’ve made a blunder—’
‘Thinking?’ Her brows shot up. ‘You can be sure you have. For some reason of your own you changed your mind about contesting the will and chose marriage with me instead - but you’ll live to regret it, I can assure you! Before I’ve finished with you you’ll wish you’d never set eyes on me!’
His jaw flexed.
‘I’ve warned you to be careful,’ he reminded her softly.
‘You’ve tricked me. Do you expect me to accept that without any complaint? I’m not one of your docile Greek women!’
‘It isn’t necessary to tell me that,’ he retorted, not without a touch of humour. ‘Unless my eyes deceive me those fists of yours are just itching to find a target.’
‘How right you are,’ she quivered. ‘Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to knock you off that chair!’
‘I’m sure it wouldn’t.’ A lean brown hand was negligently raised as Nigel stifled a yawn. ‘However, I’m sure you’re far too wise to run your head into danger.’
‘I’m not afraid of danger,’ she challenged, her eyes blue sparks of militance. ‘So don’t be too sure I’ll avoid it.’
Once more he gave an impatient intake of his breath, appearing bored all at once and irritated by the conversation.
‘Liz,’ he said in a softly-threatening tone, ‘I keep on proffering advice and you seem intent on ignoring it. But I’m not a man to waste words - and I really think that, for your own good, you should heed my advice. As I’ve said, my life hitherto has been lived peaceably, and I’m having no female—’
‘Don’t call me a female!’
He raised his brows with feigned surprise, then laughed as Liz flushed and looked away.
‘May I divert for a moment,’ he remarked affably, ‘to say you’re one of the most attractive females I’ve ever yet set eyes on? - though don’t let that go to your head,’ he added swiftly, still amused by the fact of her refusing to meet his gaze. ‘Because I have met some ravishing females in my time, and you win only by a short head—’
‘Are you bragging of your conquests?’ she queried with contempt. ‘Or your profligacy?’
‘Is there a difference?’ he laughed, and then, after a moment’s thought, ‘Perhaps there is a subtle one. However, to revert to what I was saying: I’ll have no female working herself up into a towering rage with me and getting away with it.’ He wagged a forefinger at her, just as if she were a small child. Liz felt like snapping off one of the bamboo canes and rapping that finger good and hard. ‘So I’m recommending you to curb that disgusting temper, for otherwise you’ll be involved in a clash you won’t forget in a hurry.’ So soft, that indolent drawl, yet deeply threatening. Unable to speak for the wrath which choked her, Liz decided to go into the house, but much to her chagrin she felt half-afraid of standing up, in case he should decide on another display of his mastery. And after a while she did manage to calm down sufficiently to question him again about the marriage.
‘I’ve already told you,’ he frowned. ‘It was the simplest way.’
‘You said you didn’t really need the money,’ she reminded him.
‘I believe I did say something of the kind,’ he admitted. ‘But I also said it was a shame to lose so large a fortune.’
‘You’re prevaricating,’ she snapped, frustrated by the knowledge that she was to remain unenlightened as to the reason for Nigel’s decision not to contest the will.
‘Am I?’ He looked at her and through her, with that air of boredom about him which irritated her even more than his arrogance. ‘Shall we let the matter drop, Liz?’ and, when she would have interrupted h
im, ‘We will let the matter drop.’ And then, after a small thoughtful silence, he veered the subject, asking what Liz had told Spiros by way of an explanation of their marriage.
‘I kept in mind what you said about our being amicable before your friends,’ she told him after a pettish moment during which she searched unsuccessfully for an answer that would give him the headache he deserved. ‘And so he has no idea that this isn’t a - a normal marriage. He doesn’t know I’m in any way connected with the will.’
‘It was very wise of you to keep our secret, Liz.’ He looked squarely at her. ‘Remember to keep it always, because if you don’t you’ll answer to me.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Later in the day Liz was on the lawn, sunbathing, and still inwardly fuming at Nigel’s firm evasion, when she heard the phone ring, and immediately it stopped Nigel’s voice reached her from the house.
Greta, in all probability, and Liz was tempted to enter the house by one of the french windows, and listen to the conversation. However, the idea of eavesdropping was anything but attractive and after some deliberation she lay down again, rolling over on her stomach so as to tan evenly. To her surprise Nigel appeared and she realized that had she decided to listen she would not have had time to do so.
‘Was that your lady-friend?’ she couldn’t resist saying and Nigel, about to walk past her, halted abruptly. Liz brought her head up, undaunted by his arrogant expression.
