CHAPTER ONE
Bethany could not really remember being anything but Bethany Meandis or living anywhere but Apoli-dus, although she had in fact travelled extensively during the first five years of her life. She knew very little about her real father, except that he had been an artist, and a skilled one, judging by the portrait of her mother that Papa had kept even after she left them. Megan Scott, her mother, had been a sculptor and Bethany had inherited some of both parents' talents, although she was a better painter than she was a sculptor.
At five years of age and living in the latest of a series of artists' communes, Bethany's life had begun to change when her father simply walked out one day and did not come back. She supposed she had missed him in a way, but her young mind was confused by so many people sharing the somewhat casual care of the numerous children in the commune, and she had not been certain just who were her natural parents. Especially since neither Megan nor her father had been very strong on parental affection or responsibility.
It was not until her mother remarried, when Bethany was seven, and Pavlos Meandis became her stepfather, that she really began to learn what true love and affection were all about. Ten years older than his new wife, and a widower, Pavlos gave to Bethany the same generous love he gave his own tiny son, and she had taken on the role of big sister quite happily for the next eleven years.
Before long Pavlos had legally adopted her so that she had been Bethany Meandis for almost as long as she could remember, and she and Takis, her stepbrother, had thrived and grown up together in the warm free atmosphere of Bethany's first real home.
Pavlos too was a sculptor, but to him his family came first and he loved both children equally.
Megan's departure, only four years after the marriage, had caused an upheaval and Pavlos had wept unashamedly, but Bethany, eleven at the time, had barely missed her, and her going had been less traumatic than Pavlos's much more recent death. He had been a caring man and his death had completely shattered her small world for some time, so that she was only just beginning to return to her normal lively and extrovert self. She was young and eager for life, and no one could mourn for ever, though the hurt was still there; and at eighteen there was so much to live for.
It was into her mood of returning normality that Aunt Alexia had dropped her bombshell. Bethany and Takis both being considered too young to cope alone, Pavlos had made arrangements for them to be put in the charge of his cousin from Rhodes, and Bethany's main fear was of being uprooted from what she had come to regard as her haven. After losing Papa, having to leave Apolidus would be the last straw, and she meant to dig in her heels if it came to the point.
Apolidus was a tiny island set among hundreds of others in the deep blue Aegean, and it supported a small colony of artists as well as the more traditional farming and fishing communities. Many of its seemingly perfect beaches were made dangerous by rocks that lurked beneath the water just off shore to the north and east of the island, and only on the south and west was it really safe to swim. The harbour faced south, towards the mainland of Greece, and was protected by high cliffs of pinkish rock, safe and secure when summer storms blew the sea into a raging fury, and the boats ran for shelter.
Aware of being watched, Bethany looked round. 'How much longer. Aunt Alex?'
She shifted uneasily on the box-seat in the, window, not so much impatient as anxious, and Alexia Meandis smiled at the touchingly young profile once more out-
lined, cameo-pure, against the background of summer garden. Soon, child, soon,' she soothed, for the tenth time in scarcely more minutes.
Bethany returned to her vigil, but her mind was busy with the events of the past year. A couple of times Papa had momentarily clouded the horizon of her contentment by raising the question of finding her a husband, but he had not pressed very hard and she had relaxed again. She did not have marriage in mind yet, even though she was past her eighteenth birthday, an age when most of the island girls already had some idea of who their future husbands would be.
Maybe, as well as consigning her guardianship to his cousin. Papa had also given him the task of finding her a husband, and at the thought of that being possible she again turned from the window and sought deliberately to banish the thought. *He hasn't to rely on the ferry/ she complained to no one in particular. 'There's no earthly reason why he should be late when he has his own boat.'
Endowed with infinite patience, Alexia merely smiled, and Bethany again returned to her vigil. She felt rather like a schoolgirl again, waiting there with Takis, and both of them dressed in the Sunday best clothes they felt so uncomfortable in. Aunt Alexia had insisted that they look their smartest to meet their guardian, and looking their best to Alexia's traditional mind meant a stiff black skirt and bodice for Bethany, and her hair bound into a thick silky knot at the nape of her neck.
Bethany hated it and in part it added to her aversion to the man they sat waiting for so impatiently. She kept it firmly in mind that she, unlike Takis, was not a child, but eighteen years old, and she was not prepared to simply submit to a stranger walking in and taking over her life. Whether or not he was Papa's cousin and Papa had consigned their welfare to him made no difference, she was no longer a child. The fact that it was Nikolas Meandis who had been given such authority made it that much worse.
She remembered his first visit to Apolidus very clearly indeed. She had been fourteen years old at the time and the arrival of a big white motor cruiser in the tiny harbour had caused quite a stir, for it had always been rumoured that Pavlos Meandis came from a very wealthy family who now had little to do with him. Nikolas himself had caused almost as much stir too, for he had stalked along the quay to the Meandis house with such an air of authority it might have been supposed he owned the whole island.
No reason had been given for his coming when none of the family had ever set foot on the island, except for Aunt Alexia, but it was clear now, to Bethany at least, why he had been there. Papa had known he had not as long to live as most men, and he had made preparation for her and Takis's care when he was gone. Bethany had somehow never believed that the visit was merely a social one, after all those years.
At fourteen she had thought herself grown-up, but her pride had been badly dinted by the visitor's attitude. Nikolas Meandis, as she remembered him, was an arrogant and self-opinionated man who obviously disapproved of the way she had been brought up and particularly of her stepfather's lenience towards her. But when She mentioned her feeling to Papa later, he had laughed and told her not to worry, that his cousin was a good man. A traditionalist, perhaps, despite his comparative youth, but a good man and a very wealthy one.
Since that one brief visit Papa had seen nothing more of Nikolas Meandis, and while she sat waiting for his latest arrival Bethany pondered bitterly on the irony of fate that had suddenly put her future into the hands of a man who had so obviously disliked and disapproved of her. She fidgeted uneasily and once more turned to look across the room at the old lady. 'How much longer, Aunt Alex? He's very late I'
*No doubt with very good reason, child,' Alexia told her, and took note of Bethany's nervous gesture of rubbing her hands down the stiff black skirt of her Sunday
best. 'Try not to be impatient, Bethany, hell be here soon/
*It isn't that I want to see him again,' Bethany insisted quickly. 'I didn't like him the last time he was here, and I'm sure he didn't like me, he made that very plain!'
'Bethany dear, the last time Niko was here was for your papa's funeral only two months ago,' Alexia reminded her, and added, with the slightest hint of reproach, 'You didn't see him then, of course.'
'I didn't see anyone,' Bethany agreed, her eyes distant. It was all too easy to recall that awful day when they had buried Pa
pa in the small graveyard on the hillside above the village. Despite the whispers she knew must have been prevalent among the gathering of relatives and friends, she had been much too upset to do anything, and had gone to her room and stayed there. Alexia had coped as she always did, so patient and understanding. 'I don't remember him last time, but the time before that,' she insisted. 'I disliked him intensely, and I don't expect to feel any differently this time.'
'Bethany, my dear child 1' Alexia shook her grey head in a gesture more of regret than censure, and her voice was gentle and quiet as it always was. 'You should not form opinions on old memories. Wait until you meet Niko again before you declare yourself so firmly; it isn't reasonable and it can only make things more difficult for you.'
Bethany appreciated that she might be right, but she doubted if Aunt Alexia realised quite how she felt about the man they were waiting for. Alexia was elderly and a little unworldly at times. The widow of Pavlos's uncle, she had come willingly to care for her nephew-in-law and his children when Bethany's mother left them, and she had stayed on even after Bethany was old enough to take over from her. She had never had children of her own and she doted on both the young people, never allowing them to do any-
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thing for themselves, and spoiling them quite shamelessly.
Sitting back in the coolest part of the low-ceilinged room, she busied herself with sewing, for she was an accomplished embroideress, and she shook her head over Bethany's present attitude. It was not good for a young woman to show such defiance as showed in Bethany's eyes and in the angle of her chin, and it was to be regretted more than ever in the present situation. 'It's simply that I know what to expect,* Bethany insisted. *He made no attempt to hide his opinion of me when he came here the first time, and now that he's to
be our guardian ' She shrugged uneasily. 'He
wouldn't have minded so much if I'd been Greek, but he didn't approve of Papa adopting a foreigner.*
'Oh, Bethany, my dear child!' Alexia rested her work on her lap for the moment and looked across at her concernedly. 'You're as Greek as anyone could be who wasn't actually born here, and I'm sure Niko was never so uncharitable as to think anything else.*
'Maybe not.' Bethany made the allowance because she was Greek enough to realise how serious her charge was to a people steeped in the traditions of hospitality, but she did not really believe it.
'You even speak Greek,' Alexia reminded her, and for a second Bethany's lips trembled slightly, for she again felt that awful sense of loss.
'Always since Papa died,* she murmured, and twisted her fingers together on her lap, hating the drabness of the stiff black skirt suddenly. 'He always talked to me in Englis,h for a little every day, because he said I should never forget my background.* Her hands were unsteady and to try and steady them she clasped them more tightly together, swallowing hard because she did not want to cry any more. 'I wish I was Greek, Aunt Alex, and then I wouldn't feel so much like a stranger.' The sunlight coming in through the open window gave her hair the colour and sheen of burnished bronze, neither blonde nor red, and she had never looked less like the other girls on the island, a fact that
for once she regretted. Her mother had been fair and pretty, but Bethany's features had the classical perfection more often associated with the ancient beauties of her adopted country.
Her skin was lighter than the golden-brown Greek complexion, although it had darkened to a pale creamy bronze after years in the Grecian sun, and the contours of her face were clear and neatly defined. Her mouth full and soft and her nose small and straight, while her brows were drawn on two finely arched crescents above huge grey eyes. Her stepfather had often remarked that she had the looks of the ancient goddesses, and promised that one day she would cause as much havoc among men. At the moment she looked very young and much too defiantly anxious, and Alexia Meandis smiled at her comfortingly.
*Do you feel such a stranger, child?' she asked gently, and Bethany shook her head without looking at her.
'Only when I remember how that man—how Cousin Nikolas looked at me,' she said.
Tou have such an imagination, child,' Alexia chided gently. 'I'm quite sure that Niko was enchanted with you, as we all are. He is a stern man, I know, but not as hard and unreasonable as you seem to think.'
.'Maybe.' Bethany was unconvinced, and she caught Takis's eye when he turned from the window for a moment. 'Do you remember him, Takis? From that first time he came?'
Takis was twelve years old and tall and thin for his age, but his smile had the same warmth and charm his father's had had. Secretly, Bethany suspected, he was as much excited as resentful at the prospect of Nikolas Meandis's arrival, for all he claimed to dislike the idea of having a guardian. His black hair curled slightly and grew low over his brow, and he had a habit of running his fingers through it sometimes, as he did before he answered her.
*I think I quite liked him,' he said, and Bethany stared at him in disbelief.
'You were frightened of him/ she declared, and saw
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nothing tactless in reminding him of his childish awe. *You said you thought he was cruel/
With all the conscious superiority of the Greek male, Takis frowned disapprovingly. *I was only a child,' he reminded her. *And I wasn't frightened of him, Beth, I quite liked him.'
The retort Bethany had ready died on her lips when she caught Alexia's eye. 'Much'better to forget past impressions,' the old lady advised, *and be as polite and charming as I know you both can be. I know you find it hard to be as retiring as a man like Niko expects of his womenfolk, my child, but remember that it cannot be easy for Niko either. It cannot be an easy thing to suddenly become the guardian of two young people whom he must know feel a certain amount of resentment; and remember that this situation is, after all, none of his choosing.'
*I suppose not.'
Bethany admitted it reluctantly, but she could see that for Alexia's sake she ought to make the effort and accept the situation with as good grace as possible. Takis was obviously prepared to accept it, at least for the moment, and she did not want to appear ill-mannered and deliberately unco-operative.
Impulsive as always, she went across and hugged the old lady affectionately, for her generous and outgoing nature found it easier on the whole to give anyone the benefit of the doubt whenever possible. 'I'll be an absolute paragon, Aunt Alex,' she told her extravagantly. 'I promise.'
•Dear little one,' Alexia smiled affectionately, 'just be yourself, and for papa's sake try to love his cousin.'
'He's coming!' Takis leapt up from the long wooden seat in the window, scattering cushions in his haste.
'Beth, he looks even bigger than I remember, and
Do you suppose he really is as stern as he looks?'
Already Bethany could feel the increased urgency of her heartbeat, banging away at her ribs, and she bit anxiously on her bottom lip as she automatically brushed down her skirt. Visitors were always heralded
by the sound of footsteps, for the path that curved around the little garden from the arched gateway in the wall was made up of coloured pebbles, and even the softest heels clicked busily on the uneven surfaces. The tread she heard now was firm and somehow slightly ominous, and she exchanged swift, anxious glances with Takis. She would have given anything for Papa's comforting presence.
Alexia was already at the door, standing tall and handsome in her black patterned dress, with her grey hair coiled neatly in the nape of her neck. She smiled a welcome, but so far Bethany could not see the man she welcomed for the open door that hid him from her view. All she saw of him were two large brown hands that clasped the old lady's with gentle firmness, then transferred their hold to her arms and drew her into an embrace.
'Welcome,* Alexia murmured, smiling warmly. 'Welcome, nephew. Health to you!'
For a second Bethany glimpsed a dark head bent to kiss the old lady on both cheeks, but then he vanished once again behind the conc
ealing door, and she had still not seen him properly. She waited impatiently until Alexia stood aside to let him in, and he followed her into the big sprawling cottage room, seeming to diminish its size the moment he walked into it.
Her first glimpse of him surprised her, for she had somehow expected an older man. Then she recalled that she had been only fourteen years old at their last meeting, and he must then have been approaching thirty, her own maturity made a difference to her view of him. He was handsome in a sternly rugged way, like her stepfather, but lacking Pavlos's quick warmth and charm. His eyes were dark and his mouth firm and straight, though slightly full in the lower lip, suggesting a sensuality that was somehow startling and unexpected. A fringe of thick black lashes slightly softened the effect of an otherwise implacable face.
He was about thirty-two or three, Bethany guessed, but there was nothing about him that she found re-
assuring, for he looked every bit as formidable as she remembered him, and now she did not have Papa to take the edge off his disapproval. Standing with her hands grasping the stiff black stuff of hC* Sunday skirt, she glanced at him from below tawny lashes while he moved across to where she and Takis stood side by side.
'Takis 1' The boy's hand was firmly clasped and shaken, then he was drawn into a bear-hug while a hand patted his back. It was a greeting and sympathy in one firm gesture, and oddly touching to witness somehow. *How are you, cousin?'
*Well, thank you.' Takis sounded very grown-up and formal and Bethany, who knew him well, guessed he was still feeling his way; trying to make up his mind. *Are you well, cousin?'
Aunt Alexia moved up beside the tall, towering figure as he turned towards Bethany, and her gentle voice slipped in before the newcomer could say anything. 'You remember Bethany, don't you, Niko?' she reminded him, and her light fingers touched Bethany's in gentle reminder as she smiled at her. 'She is a grown woman now, as you see.'
Nikolas Meandis extended a hand that engulfed her own slim fingers, his steady gaze fixed on her and, to Bethany's sensitive mind, already critical. *I believe I saw you briefly at Pavlos's funeral,' he said. 'How are you, Bethany?'
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