by Anne Hampson
"Decided to have a bit of fun with her?" Edwin frowned darkly.
"It isn't like you to trouble your head with such things. Those two were of no account. Alastair was young, the girl obviously willing - not averse to having a little fun, as you so crudely term it." He again managed to collect himself. "The girl ran away from her fiancé on her nineteenth birthday, hence the request that I should supply him with another nineteen-year-old. The whole thing's almost out of the bounds of possibility. It just can't be happening."
"Certainly it's happening," she snapped. "The woman at the garden party told me that this Greek girl was expecting to be married to Alastair, and that was why she so willingly left her fiancé." Julie paused a moment and then continued, "She wasn't killed outright and Doneus was with her when she died.
He was not only heartbroken but also humiliated and hurt by her choosing someone else in preference to him - someone quite inferior, as it turned out."
"Inferior?" Edwin stared explosively at her. "Alastair - inferior to a ragged Greek peasant?"
Julie's beautiful head lifted.
"I might have been reared in luxury, bred of the aristocracy-I might possess a fortune left me by my parents, but I judge a man by his honour and integrity and not by his worldly possessions. I know little of this Greek peasant, but he must be superior to Alastair, because Alastair is just about as low as the lowest! "
"Julie...." Sadness and a shocked expression; outstretched hands and low persuasive tones. "Julie, my dear love, there's no doubt at all that you're very much upset by this unfortunate episode, and no matter what you say, I'm sending for the police. This business is not for us to trouble ourselves about. Come, dear, it's almost time for tea. Walk with me in the garden for a little while; walk as we've always done - just the two of us."
Her contempt for him increased, but she felt broken too, for her secure world had crashed suddenly. Her cousin, blond and debonair, had always been like a brother, her uncle like a father. And although her own inheritance afforded her a certain security for the future, this house had been her safe refuge, a haven to which in some vague way she had known she could always run if ever anything should go wrong. But now she felt alone, saw herself as the orphan she really was. Her faith in those she loved was shattered and she floundered, unable to see the road ahead. She made no move to accompany her uncle into the grounds and with a shrug he left her, stepping out through the French window, and Julie remained standing by the desk, dwelling on what the Greek woman had said to her.
The couple were engaged when the girl was eighteen and the man nineteen, a year before the tragedy which was later to involve Julie. In Greece, the woman said, an engagement often is the marriage and to break it is unheard of. But this little Greek girl, having been brought to England by her fiancé in order that she might see her dying grandmother, had been led astray by the good looks and magnificence of the heir to Belcliffe House.
Doneus had been forced to find a job in order to pay their return fares and he had left his fiancee with her grandmother and uncle. Somehow she and Alastair had met and the girl had been swept off her feet. Edwin had said she threw herself under Alastair's horse, but the Greek woman told Julie a very different story. Heartbroken at his perfidy, the girl had gone to Alastair to make one last plea, wishing to explain that it was impossible to marry Doneus now because he would discover that she was not chaste. Angrily refusing even to dismount from his horse, Alastair dragged on the reins, and it reared, becoming out of control for a few seconds - a few fatal seconds....
After the funeral Doneus had gone to Belcliffe House and asked to see Alastair. But Edwin saw him and took the matter in hand, at first ordering Doneus off the premises. However, Doneus had seen Julie playing by the lake and in his grief and agony of mind he had seized on this form of revenge. He would have Edwin's niece when she was nineteen, to compensate for his loss.
At dinner that evening Alastair wanted to know what was wrong.
"You two haven't had a quarrel," he added, glancing from one to the other. "That isn't possible."
Julie was silent, but after a while her uncle told Alastair what had happened. To Julie's astonishment and utter disgust he took the matter so lightly that she felt a little sick.
"The stupid man! Did he actually threaten to cause a rumpus in church? But those Greeks are like that, hotheaded and impulsive."
"Impulsive?" Julie held her fork halfway to her mouth and looked at him. "He's waited ten years for reparation. I don't call that impulsive."
She saw him colour up and knew it was because she had never before admonished him but had in fact always looked up to him, admiring his looks and his wit and his integrity. His integrity.... She felt an urge to leave the table, but good manners forbade such an action.
"I've told Julie I'm sending for the police," Edwin informed his son, who nodded approvingly.
"We can't allow a man of his low breeding to intimidate us."
Silence fell as they concentrated on their food. Julie's choked her and she put down her knife and fork. Edwin threw her a pained look and said,
"Julie, this thing is quite unimportant. As I've said, the couple were peasants and what happened to them is of no matter to people like us. It's most unfortunate that you've heard the damned story, but you must endeavour to forget it.
"Father's right," added Alastair imperturbably, reaching for more meat. "The man's a lunatic - should be put away, obviously."
"You stole another man's wife! " flashed Julie, unable to listen in silence. "Stole another man's wife and you're not even repentant! What kind of people are you?" She turned her head to look at Edwin. "How can I have been such a fool as to look up to you both all these years? To steal another man's wife - to ruin her utterly and then refuse to marry her -"
"Marry!" Alastair appeared to have something lodged in his throat. "Are you quite mad?" His blue eyes regarded her in blank disbelief. "I, a Veltrovers, marry a Greek peasant girl? Why, you'd be the first to be shocked by such an action! "
"Not under the circumstances." Julie spoke more quietly now, but her face was pale, and her hands, resting on the table, trembled visibly. "It was a matter of honour."
Edwin looked at her with the same expression of disbelief as his son.
"I don't know quite what has got into you, Julie, but you're talking wildly. You know very well it would be quite impossible for Alastair to have married the girl."
"Why, was the family fortune in such dire straits as long ago as that?" Never had she spoken to her uncle in so disrespectful a manner, but although Julie presented to the world a haughty mien, in keeping with her position, her heart was gentle, and her sense of honour and justice high. She felt deeply for that poor girl, and even more deeply for her fiancé, who had to return to his island - Kalymnos, the woman said - without his future wife. He would have had to make some explanation, and if it were the truthful one he must have suffered overwhelming humiliation, for never did a Greek girl leave her fiancé for another man.
"You forget yourself," her uncle snapped. "How dare you speak to me like this?"
She looked at him, a mist of tears behind her eyes. What was to become of her? She felt she could not stay here after this.
"I'm asking you - both of you - for a good reason why Alastair couldn't marry that girl."
An exasperated sigh from Alastair, and then, wrath-fully, "I've just told you, it was impossible! "
Julie transferred her gaze to him, noting his angry colour. She thought of Lavinia, living in an enchanted world, idolizing her future husband.
"Did you ever intend marrying this Greek girl - in the beginning, I mean?"
"Certainly not. Your question's superfluous because you know very well I never had any intention of marrying her."
Julie glanced down at her plate, gesturing for the servant to remove it. He approached the table silently and made to pick it up.
"The damned business surely hasn't put you off your food," snapped Edwin, for once unaffect
ed by the presence of a servant. "Eat it! "
She glanced at the impassive man hovering close to her chair.
"You can take it away - and don't bring me anything else."
Another exasperated exclamation from Alastair but he remained silent, eating his dinner.
"We'll send for the police first thing in the morning." Edwin's voice had now lost its angry edge, 'but his eyes glinted with the wrath consuming him. "What a business! After all these years.
Why hasn't the miserable creature forgotten? He must be a morbid sort of man -" Edwin broke off, shrugging. "But a foreigner - what can one expect?"
"He's a human being. He has feelings." Yet even though she
herself had voiced those words Julie did wonder what this Doneus was like. He would be nearing thirty now, and he had nursed his grievance all these years. It didn't seem possible that he could do so, or even that he had remained single - and yet apparently this was the case. Julie was inclined to agree with Edwin on one thing: Doneus Lucian was indeed a morbid man.
Her musings were interrupted by her uncle's voice. He said, ignoring her recent comment, "There's something strange about the whole affair. How did this woman recognize you? Dozens of people must have gone into that tent before you."
Julie had already mentioned the magazine, and her own conviction that it was the copy containing her photograph. But apparently it had slipped her uncle's memory and she repeated what she had said. He nodded instantly on her reminding him of it and a heavy frown added yet another line to his heavily-furrowed brow.
"How in heaven's name did the magazine get into her hands?"
"Into his hands - at first, it would seem." Julie shrugged. "One can buy our magazines in Greece."
"Not that particular one, I'm damned sure you can't! "
"Someone might have given it to him. Or a tourist could have left it lying somewhere. In any case, does it matter how he got hold of it? He saw my picture and my name, knew I was nearly nineteen and so acted in the way he's always meant to act."
Inwardly she was confused, searching for a more straightforward explanation, but although she felt convinced that one existed she failed to discover it. Doneus Lucian had nursed his wound, and waited for his revenge. He had sent that woman - who might or might not be a relation - over here to pass on his message.
She would require some means of recognition.... How very opportune that the photograph had been in the magazine.
What would have happened if it had not? Bewilderedly Julie shook her head, unable to accept mere coincidence as the answer. There must be some more feasible explanation, she told herself again, but what it was Julie could not at this stage begin to guess.
However, mystery or no mystery a stark reality had to be faced. Either she gave herself up to this man or he would carry out his threat and expose Alastair. Julie closed her eyes tightly; it was not of Alastair she was thinking, but of the lovely girl he was about to marry - Lavinia, who looked up to him with something akin to reverence, who would be heartbroken if she were to discover this past scandal - for assuredly her guardian would not countenance the marriage.
"I shall have to go to this island." Julie spoke her thoughts aloud, but even as the sentence was uttered her uncle's hand came down sharply on the table, causing the wineglasses to jump.
"You're acting in the most irrational manner, Julie. Now forget the whole business, at once - before I really lose my temper! "
His anger could not hurt her now. She must shield Lavinia - yes, at all costs the truth must remain hidden from her.
"Whatever you say, I must do as the woman ordered and go to Kalymnos -"
"You're not doing anything of the kind! I absolutely forbid it! "
"You mean," put in Alastair before his father had finished speaking, "that you're actually contemplating marrying this peasant?" He seemed greatly amused and gentle colour rose, flushing Julie's pallid cheeks.
"Don't be absurd! I mentioned a bribe to Uncle Edwin - and I do feel that the man can be bribed - if he's only a spongediver, as you assert." Julie shifted her gaze, saw Edwin nod before he spoke.
"Certainly he's only a spongediver; they're all spongedivers on that island."
Julie did not suppose they were, but she saw no reason for a diversion of the subject by voicing an irrelevance like that. Her uncle went on to repeat that the police would be called in and Julie then inquired, looking straight at him, "What will you say to them?"
He frowned darkly at her.
"That's my affair - and Alastair's. It certainly isn't yours. In fact, you're not really involved at all, so we'll close the subject, if you please."
"Not involved! " she couldn't help exclaiming. "I'm very much involved - and through no fault of my own! "
Her uncle glowered at her, his arrogant face deeply fused with colour.
"I said - we'll close the subject. Either you obey me or you leave the table! "
For a moment Julie sat there, her glance flickering to Alastair, who was unconcernedly eating his dinner. And then, rising, she
silently withdrew from the room, convinced that when her uncle had given the matter more thought he would change his mind about bringing in the police.
And she was right. Immediately after breakfast the following morning he sent for her and she went to his study, entering as before without waiting for an invitation to do so.
"Sit down, Julie." Edwin's face was a trifle grey, just as it had been on her first imparting her news to him yesterday. "Tell me everything again, my dear. This business is worrying, I'm now willing to admit. The police can't possibly be called in. We can't risk any publicity. The reporters would be in their element were they to know of that old scandal."
"I knew that, Uncle." Julie sat down, telling herself she should be feeling sorry for him, because after all it was not he who had sinned against that girl and her fiancé. Yet she could find no pity in her heart - merely contempt that, all those years ago, Edwin should make such a promise, believing he would never hear from that unfortunate man again.
"In your opinion, will this man carry out his threat?" Edwin's voice was a little hoarse; it was tired too, and she deduced that sleep had eluded him, just as it had eluded her.
"I'm very sure he will." Julie paused, an involuntary shudder passing through her slender body as she thought of his name.
Aidoneus a euphemism for Pluto or Hades, god of the infernal regions whose wife was the ill-fated Persephone, doomed to spend one third of every year in the shadowy underworld with her satanic husband who, having seen her in all her beauty as she sat with her nymphs, carried her off, away from the sunlit green hillside into the Stygian gloom of the abysmal domain over which he ruled. And now Aidoneus - whose real name was Hades - had the idea of taking Julie away from her beautiful home and making her live with him on the rocky island of Kalymnos, for seven months of each year. Her uncle had declared this situation to be impossible, and indeed it would have seemed totally unreal had it not been for the sun-wrinkled face of the "gipsy" woman which Julie could see even now, with stark clarity and with a faint tingling of fear. "The woman was most emphatic," Julie continued, looking at her uncle squarely. "I was fully convinced that Doneus meant what he said. Besides, would he have gone to the expense of sending that woman here unless he was in deadly earnest?"
Edwin was already shaking his head.
"That was the very thing which struck me on thinking more deeply about the matter last night. He is in deadly earnest, as you say, although some aspects of this affair strike me as extremely puzzling. Why, for instance, didn't he come over here himself"
This had already struck Julie and she came to the eventual conclusion that the man had been afraid that Edwin or Alastair would go to the police. She now mentioned this to her uncle, who nodded in agreement after allowing himself a moment or two in which to consider it.
"It could be, because the man's obviously a coward -"
"How have you reached a conclusion like that?" Julie wanted
to know. If Doneus Lucian were a spongediver then he was no coward. On the contrary, he was inordinately brave, for infirmity and death were very often the ultimate rewards of so hazardous an occupation as diving into the depths of the ocean for sponges.
Anyone who knew anything about it was aware that the underwater draughts could maim or kill - and very often did. It was said that on the island of Kalymnos many crippled men could be seen, either trying to drag their near useless limbs along without help or, more often, receiving ready assistance from their relatives or friends. No, whatever vices this Doneus Lucian possessed cowardice was certainly not one of them.
"Only a coward would ask for a little girl of nine years of age as a reparation for a supposed wrong," Edwin began when, on noting Julie's sudden frown, he stopped, throwing her an interrogating glance from under his bushy grey brows.
"Firstly, he did not ask for a girl of nine," Julie pointed out. "He asked for one of nineteen. Secondly, the word `supposed' does not apply. This Doneus was wronged, and in a way that, to a Greek more perhaps than any other man, was damaging both to his honour and his pride."
Impatiently Edwin waived this, changing the subject. "How did he get the money to send that woman over here, I wonder?"
"It doesn't cost all that much - not if she came by boat and train."
"Perhaps you're right. I wouldn't know. I'd never travel any distance by boat or train."
Julie drew an impatient breath at his needless digression.
"The man must have some money because, should we
disregard his threat, he intends coming over here himself, as I have told you."
Edwin glanced thoughtfully at the blotter on his desk, his aristocratic lips pursed, his fingers tapping nervously on the arm of his chair.
"The man's mad, of course." Julie said nothing to that, but merely waited, not very patiently, for her uncle to emerge from his reverie. "What I can't understand is why he's harboured a desire for revenge all this time."
