Apollo's Daughter

by Rebecca Stratton

  'You're anxious to hear about your friend here, of course,' he said indicating the bust, and he smiled at Bethany's obvious eagerness. 'I'm afraid I have a disappointment for you, my dear Miss Meandis.' Bethany's heart sank as he picked up the Apollo from the table and balanced it on his knee, grimacing at the weight of it. 'This handsome fellow is definitely not two thousand years old, nor even two hundred; in fact I can date him almost exactly. He was worked about twenty years ago by a very talented young compatriot of mine, who is alas no longer alive.' He smoothed a hand over the two wings of hair held back by the traditional fillet bound round the noble brow. 'Her name was Megan Scott, and it was always my desire to meet her, for she produced work that the ancients would have been proud of. This is a very good example of what she could do, and in fact I happen to have heard about this particular piece.'

  Bethany was trying to cope with the realisation that the sculpted head that had caused her so much unrest in the past weeks was actually her mother's work. She had never been allowed into her mother's studio, although Pavlos had never made such a ruling concerning his own domain, and she had never really known just how skilled her mother was until this moment.

  She did not look at Nikolas for the moment, but at the Professor's thoughtful face as he studied the Apollo he held on his knee, and she licked her lips nervously before she ventured further. 'It—it is meant to be Apollo, isn't it?' she asked, and Professor Bailey smiled.

  'Oh yes, most certainly it is, my dear young lady, but not the traditional god we're more used to seeing. You see how the hair differs for one thing; it's straight instead of the more usual curls, and the curious flyaway effect of the wings of hair above the forehead/

  He followed the skilfully sculpted lines with his finger, and Bethany followed its trace as if mesmerised by it. 'Oh yes, it is an Apollo, but not the god, only a very down-to-earth and, unless I've been misled by gossip, a rather unreliable man. His name was Apollo, although I believe he also had a less exotic name as well which I can't remember at the moment. He was an Anglo-Greek and the story goes that Megan Scott was quite besotted with him, so much so that she made him in the image of his more exalted namesake because she wanted to please him. He was her husband, after all, so I suppose it was natural—^Apollo Scott, a rather fanciful combination, you must allow.'

  Bethany's head jerked round almost of its own volition and she stared at Nikolas unbelievingly, catching for a moment a look of shock that told how stunned he was by the outcome. Her hands were tightly clasped, but she hoped that her obvious agitation would be attributed to simple disappointment.

  'He's—he's very handsome,' she murmured, without really knowing what she said.

  All she could think of was that the man who had sat beside her, even talked to her, on the hillside that evening had been her father and he had not even given her a clue to his identity. There was a chilling numbness in her that clutched at her stomach muscles until she felt physically sick when she faced the fact that he had deliberately kept the information from her, even after he knew who she was. Nikolas would surely not doubt her word now that the two ApoUos, marble and flesh and blood, had been proved to be images of one another.

  Still trying to keep up the pretence of being un-involved, she avoided looking at Nikolas now, for the pity and compassion in his eyes had almost proved her undoing. Instead she kept her eyes on the tauntingly handsome features that had haunted her for so long. Perhaps it had not simply been because of her mother's sculpture of him that he had seemed so familiar, but because she recalled him from somewhere in her de-

  liberately forgotten childhood. Before Papa adopted her and taught her what it was like to be loved.

  'Handsome is as handsome does, as the saying goes, eh?' Professor Bailey suggested, and placed the marble back on to the table where it seemed to gaze at them down its arrogantly handsome nose. 'This fellow wasn't a god by all accounts, although maybe he found those godlike looks pretty hard to live with.' He looked across at Nikolas, and Bethany was given a brief respite in which to gather her shattered wits together. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you, my dear fellow,' he told Nikolas, 'but even though it isn't an antiquity, it has some value as Megan Scott's work. She did so little before she was killed, poor girl, so it has a rarity value; although heaven knows how this beautiful piece came to be buried on your little island.'

  Bethany had a feeling that she knew, but this was not the moment to say so; she would tell Nikolas later and have little doubt that he would believe what she said now. While the two men talked, she managed to bring herself under control, and it crossed her mind as she listened to them that Nikolas was making conversation with just that in mind. He glanced at her every so often, but made no attempt to draw her into the conversation, speaking in his slow and attractively pedantic English about matters she could hardly be expected to follow.

  Nikolas declined an invitation to lunch on behalf of them both, saying that they had made other arrangements. In fact Bethany was relieved to find it wasn't true, for she did not in the least feel like sitting in a public place and eating a meal as if nothing had happened. She had never felt a more urgent need to fly back to Apolidus and the familiar surroundings.

  It was a little surprising too how thankfully she reverted to Greek the moment they left their host, and Nikolas's light hand on her arm as they went in search of a taxi brought a lump to her throat that she fought hard to swallow without bringing tears to her eyes. She shook her head when he offered her lunch, and he

  did not insist, but had the taxi take them directly to the waterfront; a drive that was made in almost complete silence.

  It was not until they were once more skimming smoothly across the blue silken surface of the Aegean that the question of the Apollos was mentioned. As he turned to look at her, Nikolas's eyes had a deep dark warmth that was almost like an embrace, and seemed to recognise how close to tears she was. She stood beside him at the wheel of the cruiser instead of seeking the solitariness of the small cabin, because there was an unbelievable comfort in his nearness, and the sight of his tall, lean figure, feet planted firmly apart, was more reassuring than anything.

  'I'm sorry, Bethany.' The words were muffled in part by the hum of the engine, but she knew how much he regretted the outcome of their trip, and she shook her head.

  *You couldn't know,' she whispered soundlessly, and he stretched out an arm suddenly and pulled her close to his side, resting his chin on the bright tawny softness of her hair, his arm firm and comforting about her

  waist. *I don't blame you, Nikolas, it's just that '

  She choked on the admission as if she was ashamed of

  it. *I liked him; I actually liked him, and he '

  'Sssh! Of course you liked him, you silly child, it wouldn't be natural if you didn't, but you mustn't dwell on it too much and make yourself miserable over what is, after all, no new situation, is it?'

  His arm tightened and the broad hand below her breast stroked soothingly as he hugged her closer for a moment and kissed her forehead. Drawing courage from it, she poured out the bitterness she felt at being brushed aside for a second time by her natural father, and Nikolas let her talk, simply holding her close while they streaked across the water leaving a trail of feathery foam in their wake. She cried a little, but for the most part there was too much anger in her to feel sorry for herself.

  'How could he have sat there and—^and talked to me

  as he did, without saying something?' she asked, for the hundreth time. *He even told me he had no taste for a home and family, but he didn't tell me that he'd once had a family and deserted them I'

  'Your mother went back to him, Bethany.' She jerked her head round swiftly to look up into his face, her eyelids blinking rapidly because she knew it was true and that she didn't want to have it confirmed. *I came to Apolidus that first time, do you remember?' Nikolas went on, and she nodded. How could she forget that first time? She had felt so sure he despised her then that she had hated him for the nex
t four years, quite unreasonably. Tavlos didn't talk much about her,' he said, 'but he did tell me that. I think it was the hardest thing he had to bear; when she left him, and yet I think, in time, he came to look upon it as just punishment for his own shortcomings in that direction.'

  1 didn't know.' She slipped an arm about him and found the warm strength of him incredibly reassuring. 'But—I remember the day she went away; that night, I couldn't sleep and 1 heard Papa go out. I'd heard

  him ' She swallowed hard on the recollection of

  the deep, painful sobs of a grown man crying like a

  child in the darkness. 1 think he Papa took the

  head of Apollo and threw it into that hollow in the hillside, Niko. I think he did it that night, the night after she went back to my father.' She looked up at him again, seeking support for her theory, and Nikolas nodded slowly. 'Don't you think that's how it got there, Niko?'

  'It's an unanswerable puzzle otherwise,' he replied.

  'And to think— that man came back after all this time! And was too cowardly to tell me who he was because he was ashamed of himself!'

  'That's probably more true than you realise,' Nikolas told her quietly, and once more she looked up at him.

  The wind blew his hair back from a broad brow and his eyes were narrowed against the wind and the

  dazzle of the sun on the water, his mouth firm but gentle at the moment. Above all he was strong, and that mattered very much to Bethany at the moment. Nikolas would never walk out on his family responsibilities; that was really why he was there with her now, because he had taken over his cousin's family and made himself responsible for them. And yet—^something struck her suddenly that had gone unnoticed when he first spoke.

  * You—^you actually sound as if you're sorry for him!' she accused, and Nikolas smiled in that curiously sardonic way he had sometimes.

  *I think he might well have been too ashamed to tell you who he really was,' he said, 'and if that's so, then I do perhaps feel a little sorry for him. He's lost so much and it must be very hard for a man to admit that he's thrown away something that he realises too late is very precious to him/

  *You—^you think that's how he felt?'

  She recalled the strange sound he had made in his throat when she spoke so disparagingly of her natural father, and the bitterness of his smile when she asked his name and he told her Apollo. If only she had known!

  1 think it's how Pavlos felt,' Nikolas was saying quietly, and she brought herself swiftly back to realisation. Never could she have put Papa and her natural father into the same category, and yet Nikolas had just done so quite logically. He caught her eye and held her wavering and unwilling gaze determinedly, clasp-ping her close to his side while he forced her to accept the comparison. 'They had a great deal in common, Bethany.'

  She said nothing, feeling yet another piece of her little world turned upside down. Heracles and his brother must have felt very much as she felt, when they were children, yet Heracles could remember his father fondly and take his illegitimate brother to his heart and into his home.

  'I suppose they had,' she allowed huskily, and Niko-

  las bent his head to kiss her, lightly and gently on her mouth. Apolidus was already in sight and getting closer every moment, and between them Nikolas and her island could do a lot to help make her forget the betrayal of Apollo the second time around.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bethany was not exactly sure what her reaction was when they returned to the house and found that Theo had put in an appearance; looking very pleased with himself, she thought, until she noticed a wary look in his eyes when he greeted his brother. Nikolas, of course, made no bones about his own opinion of the visit, and Bethany was a little puzzled by his lack of warmth; for she firmly believed he was fond of Theo, even if he did occasionally wield the stick of authority over him.

  'How the devil did you get here?' he demanded.

  'I took the ferry to Piraeus and then took a local ferry here,' Theo told him, and was quite evidently pleased with his ingenuity in finding his way around without the accustomed convenience of private transport. * I arrived about half an hour ago.'

  *And for what purpose?' Nikolas asked with crushing practicality. Alexia was serving Theo with coffee and displaying the same kind of doting adoration shown by his mother; an attitude that Nikolas viewed with a hint of exasperation. 'Presumably you had a reason for coming,' he went on, 'or you wouldn't have gone to so much trouble and discomfort. Public transport isn't quite your style, is it, Theo?'

  Bethany sat at the other end of the table, taking a so far silent interest in what was going on. She had far too much on her mind at the moment to give Theo the welcome he very obviously expected, but he seemed undeterred by her present reticence, confident of his welcome.

  'I wanted to see Bethany again,' he told Nikolas, and beamed her a smile as he said it. She was appalled to realise that she was blushing and more still to realise that Aunt Alexia very obviously approved of his

  reasons, if not his actions. Theo caught her eye and winked, much too confident to be defeated by anything less than a direct snub. Tou are glad to see me, aren't you, Beth?'

  His use of the abbreviation of her name that until now had been Takis's prerogative added to her confusion, and she glanced instinctively at Nikolas when her hand was seized and her fingers lightly kissed. She noted the tight line of his mouth with genuine regret and knew she would find it hard to forgive Theo if his coming upset the new and rather exciting rapport she had with Nikolas, forgetting his plans to marry her to Theo.

  'Of course I'm glad to see you, Theo,' she said, taking care not to make it sound too much as if there was anything intimate in her welcome. *I think you'll like Apolidus.'

  In fact she doubted very much if he would enjoy her precious island for very long, for Theo was not made for the quiet life, but it was unthinkable to admit, even to herself, that she simply had no idea what to say to him. Theo always gave her the uneasy feeling that deep inside he might find her unworldliness rather amusing and it inhibited her to some extent where he was concerned.

  Nikolas, however, was far less reticent about saying exactly what he thought, and he eyed his younger brother with a hint of mockery in his eyes. *I estimate it will take you less than twenty-four hours to become utterly bored with what Apolidus has to offer in the way of amusement,' he told him, and gave Bethany a brief smile, as if to assure her that it was not his own opinion, only one he attributed to his brother. 'No restaurants, no roads,' he went on, 'no theatres and no clubs, only the taverna and the talk of the farmers and fishermen. I guarantee you'll be bored within a few hours, Theo.'

  'Are youT Theo challenged, and Bethany did not realise just how anxiously she watched for Nikolas's response.

  Nikolas sipped his coffee slowly, but there was an air of restrained tension about him and she noticed how white his knuckles were as he clasped the tiny cup. 'No/ he said quietly, *but I don't demand quite so much out of each day as you do, brother/

  It was clear that Theo did not like the trend of the conversation, and he always seemed at a slight disadvantage whenever he tried crossing swords with Nikolas, Bethany had noticed it before. Theo knew it and he resented it; it showed in the short, harsh bark of laughter as he shook his head. 'Oh, but of course you don't have any option but to stay here, do you? You have to stay and keep watch on your flock, and particularly on your ewe lamb, to see that the wolves don't ravish her!'

  'Theodore!'

  He fell silent at once, the mocking laughter dying uneasily, for it had been an act of bravado, no more, and he was sorry for it, it was obvious. He heaved his shoulders in regret, avoiding Alexia's reproachful eyes. 'I'm sorry, Niko.'

  To Bethany it was incredible the way he backed down before Nikolas's disapproval, and she wondered that she could ever have thought herself capable of defying him and getting away with it, when someone as bold and confident as Theo eventually yielded. It possibly had to do with the fact that Niko
las had been in locum parentis for his own father for far longer than he had for Papa. Also he was a good deal older than both Theo and herself and therefore commanded a certain respect, even from a liberal thinker like Theo.

  Nikolas did not pursue the question of why he was there, but brought them back to more practical matters with his usual expediency. 'Have you taken yourself a room at the tavernaT he asked, and must surely have known the sensation he was going to cause before he spoke.

  Theo gazed at him blankly for a moment, then switched his unbelieving gaze to Alexia, who looked equally stunned. 'The tavernaT His gaze travelled

  along the walls of the sprawling old house, half submerged in its jungle of shrubs and looking deceptively large. *I thought ' he began, but Nikolas was shaking his head.

  'The house is too small to accommodate even another one,* he told Theo. 'You'll have to see what the taverna has to offer; I believe they take the occasional visitor if needs be.'

  There was the studio, Bethany thought, but he did not mention that. Of course it wasn't equipped to sleep anyone, let alone a young man accustomed to the luxuries of life, but as a makeshift measure it would surely have served well enough. Theo, it was clear, still did not quite believe he was being refused the hospitality he felt entitled to, and he looked at Nikolas with narrowed eyes.

  'You expect me to stay at the taverna}'

  'I see no alternative,' Nikolas informed him coolly. 'As you said, I have to guard my ewe lamb from the wolves, and frankly, my dear brother, I shall feel considerably easier in my mind if you're sleeping at the taverna and not under this roof.' He sounded so coolly logical about it all that Bethany scarcely believed the implications he was making, and she gazed at him wide-eyed as he got to his feet and stood toweringly tall over his brother. 'If you prefer,' Nikolas went on, smoothly practical, 'I can go and see Petrakis and see what can be done about finding you a room. How long will you be needing it for?'

  'Damn it, / don't know!' Theo fumed in exasperation. 'I didn't expect to be treated as if I've brought the plague with me!'