by Lara Temple
‘No false modesty, child. You sing beautifully. Come, Athena.’
Christina stood, turning towards Ariadne on the pretext of arranging her shawl. At least she was not alone in this predicament—there was some comfort in sharing misfortune.
‘Best we do it. He’s nervous,’ she whispered encouragingly for Ari’s sake and the Princess’s dark eyes widened and then crinkled in a smile.
Sir Oswald, at a glance from his nephew, moved to accompany the Princess while Alex himself moved to the pianoforte, opening the wooden panels painted in elaborate scrolls of blue, cream and gold.
‘Can you play without music, Miss James? Shall I send someone to your rooms to fetch it?’ he asked quietly. There was the slightest hesitation in his voice and she could almost imagine there was an apology there, but when she looked up she could detect nothing in his gaze that would support her wishful thinking. His grey eyes were watchful and his face expressionless. She forced herself to look away.
‘No, thank you, Lord Stanton. Her Highness knows the words.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked,’ he replied, but moved away, leaving her feeling she had somehow misstepped. Again.
‘Demeter?’ Ari asked as she leaned her hand on the pianoforte and Christina nodded. She kept her eyes on Ari as the Princess sang of Demeter’s grief at the abduction of her daughter Persephone. The guests might not understand the words, but she was certain they could hear the pain in Ari’s clear voice. It always made Christina’s heart ache though she hardly knew for what. She had no reason to be homesick; her only home was Illiakos and she would soon be returning to it.
‘Píra tin agápi mou kai me áfise keno.’
You took my love and left me empty.
She knew why the King had insisted. The picture Ari presented as she stood by the pianoforte, her dark eyes glistening with emotion, her slim figure weaving with the words, was all the King could have desired to showcase his daughter and attract the discerning attention of someone as experienced as Lord Stanton.
She glanced over at him and experienced the same sense of dismay at the change in him from the young man of six years ago. Unlike in the garden, his face showed no emotion at all, it might as well have been the bust of a Roman general, looking out into the distance but giving nothing away. He certainly didn’t appear to be caught in rapt admiration of the Princess’s beauty. But in the split second her eyes didn’t do as they ought and look away, he met her gaze and she saw past the blank mask to a shifting scenery—there was anger, confusion and something tucked behind them that reminded her of the pain she had heard in his fevered mutterings. The memories were so sharp that instead of the coolness of the ivory keys beneath her fingers she felt the heat of his skin as she had tended him. It was so sudden and clear she almost lost her place in the music before she lowered her eyes to her hands and remembered where she was. The applause was just a rumble, muting her thudding heartbeat, and the ivory keys thrummed in memory of the last notes of the goddess’s lament.
The King rose, embracing his daughter with pride.
‘But she can sing as well in English and Italian, can you not, my star? Athena, Mozart. That pretty aria you were practising before we sailed.’
Christina nodded. This time she would not look up. When the aria was done, she stood before the King could command another performance, but there was no need. Alex was already signalling the removal of the men back to the library to continue their discussions and he moved to lower the cover on the pianoforte. She resisted the urge to flee, waiting for him to withdraw, watching his hands on the lacquered wood.
His hands were more expressive than he was. She had noticed that back on Illiakos. They showed tension more faithfully than his features, but they were also unusually gentle for a man. Like that moment in the garden when he had taken her hand in his—it hadn’t been a rough grasp in keeping with his hands’ size and strength, but more an embrace, enveloping her with warmth, firm without exerting any pressure. Her skin had found its own shape against his, moulding to it like an animal burrowing into the inviting warmth of another’s fur. For a moment she had even felt the most natural thing would be if she leant forward and...
Thankfully she had done nothing so foolish, and thankfully he had shown his true colours. But watching them now as they secured the cover and rested for a moment on its polished surface, she found it hard to cling to her disdain. What would happen if she placed her hand on his? Would the planets stop spinning on their axes and the world come crashing down? Perhaps that would be a relief.
‘That was lovely,’ he said after a moment, and though his words were complimentary his tone was still clipped, bringing her back to reality.
‘The Princess has a beautiful voice,’ she replied.
‘Yes, she does. No wonder the King is so proud of her. She is a charming young woman—beautiful, intelligent, well-mannered and talented. Why has she not yet married? Surely at nearly eighteen there have been offers?’
Christina ignored the snake of jealousy writhing at his fulsome praise.
‘There have, but King Darius is an affectionate father. He prefers her to find someone she cares for rather than force her into an alliance of pure convenience.’
‘Commendable for a parent, rather difficult for a sovereign. I seem to remember he mentioned his own marriage was arranged with a woman he had never met before the wedding. Is that why he is so determined to indulge his daughter?’
‘I believe you should ask him these questions yourself, Lord Stanton.’
His eyes narrowed.
‘That is rather what I am doing, isn’t it? Since the two of you seem so much in accord.’
‘Are you insinuating I have no independent thoughts of my own, Lord Stanton?’
‘Not in the least. I am of the opinion that you have a great many independent thoughts, Miss James, but you also have the enviable skill of putting them aside when they don’t serve your will. Or your purpose.’
‘And you appear to have a great many opinions, Lord Stanton, not all of them well founded.’
He surprised her again, the coldness melting away in a sudden smile.
‘Aren’t they? What a blow to my vanity. I always considered myself a skilled reader of the human psyche. I am developing a habit of offending you, aren’t I? Which is bad form when I am very grateful for your nursing skills all those years ago. The doctor who saw me on my return to London said I was luckier than I deserved. I told him luck didn’t come in to it, or rather that luck had some assistance from a very methodical and stubborn nurse.’
‘I was only doing my duty.’ It was an ungracious reply to his attempt to placate her and she made an effort to match his lighter tone. ‘But I am very glad you suffered no lasting damage. We were quite worried at the beginning.’
He moved to lean his hip against the corner of the pianoforte, his bulk forming a barrier between her and the room.
‘Were you?’
‘It would have been very inconvenient if you had died.’
His smile widened at her prim tones.
‘I remember you saying something of the sort at the time. I am glad I could oblige. It would have been rather unfortunate if my demise had sparked an international incident—not the kind of exit a diplomat would wish for.’
‘But you weren’t a diplomat then, were you?’
He smoothed his hand over the top of the piano.
‘Why do you think that?’
‘I don’t, I didn’t... It merely occurred to me that if you had been a diplomat then surely you would have told us your name at the outset. Count Razumov also said...’
‘Razumov said?’ he prompted and she plunged forward, too curious to be careful.
‘He mentioned he knew you in Russia, five years ago, and that was after you were on Illiakos and that you were not yet part of the Foreign Office.’
‘I
thought Dimitri had a hard head, but clearly he needs to watch his intake of wine.’
‘He did say those were different times, but he was merely making conversation. I apologise, I should not have said anything. I do not wish to cause trouble.’
‘You may not wish to, but you have a knack for it, Miss James. I wonder what it is about you that pries open doors and mouths best left closed. A very useful talent in my calling. Razumov had best beware of you; I certainly shall.’
‘You make it sound as if I deliberately encouraged indiscretions.’
‘Everyone wants to feel they are meaningful and curiosity is a powerful form of flattery. Just as you were curious about those sad souls from the agony columns. I am convinced they would have loved to have you listen to their tales of woes.’
‘You remember that?’
‘It may have failed me a little on our reunion, but in general my memory is particularly retentive, Christina James.’
The rumble of his voice over her name worked its way under her skin and she moved away from the pianoforte, but he placed his hands on his hips and she stopped, eyeing the now tiny gap left between his elbow and the wall. To push by would be not only undignified but would involve precisely the kind of contact she didn’t want...or did, which was worse. Her face was already tingling in embarrassment and her body in anticipation. Would he move away if she walked right at him? Something in his eyes told her not to test him.
‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were the first day in the library?’ His tones were clipped, making it more a demand than a question.
‘It honestly never occurred to me you might recognise me.’
‘That still doesn’t answer my question. Why not just say, “Hello, we were never formally introduced, but my name is Christina James and I saved your life six years ago”?’
‘I didn’t save your life. In any case, I am here merely as companion to Ari...to Princess Ariadne. It wouldn’t be proper for me to presume upon our previous acquaintance.’
‘So it is a matter of propriety? That is rather a peculiar position to take given you had no problem tending to me when I was half-naked.’
If he had grabbed her by the hair and plunged her whole into the hot springs of Mistras the instant rush of heat could not have been more potent.
‘Lord Stanton!’
He smiled at her outrage.
‘Yes, there’s the fire I remember. I was beginning to wonder whether my memory was at fault or whether those veils had smothered it completely.’
‘I only wore those veils while tending you.’
‘I wasn’t talking about those veils and you know it. Something about you doesn’t make sense.’
‘Simply because you aren’t intelligent enough to understand something doesn’t necessarily imply it doesn’t make sense.’
He laughed, shifting from foot to foot and even more definitely sealing her into her corner.
‘Do you know what my friends tell me my worst quality is?’
‘How easily you are offended when you discover you don’t know everything?’
‘No, but you are close. My friends have often warned me of the pitfalls of curiosity. It tends to spark when I notice something is off the true.’
‘Off the true?’
‘When something is incongruous, not quite in line even though it should be. When she was young my sister Olivia used to hide her books under cushions all around the house. You could always tell where they were by that suspicious bulge.’
‘And I have suspicious bulges?’
His gaze mapped her, slowly, and his smile shifted, his lips just parting. ‘Not a suspicious bulge amongst them. But perhaps I should check more thoroughly.’
‘Perhaps you haven’t changed that much,’ she muttered and took a step forward, hoping he might cede some ground. He didn’t.
‘That doesn’t sound like a compliment.’
‘It wasn’t, it was an observation. You don’t strike me as someone in need of compliments. May I pass?’
‘What are you running from this time, Miss James? I can hardly pose a threat here in this civilised setting.’
‘This time?’
‘You’ve run before. On the island. In the library. In the garden. It’s quite a blow to my vanity. Usually women are heading in the other direction. There, that’s better, I knew if I tried hard enough I could make you smile.’
‘Why would you want to? More vanity?’
‘Precisely. And curiosity again.’
‘Well, there is nothing to be curious about—I am not running from you.’
‘From yourself then.’
She had forgotten what this particular brand of anger felt like. The last time she had felt it had been six years ago.
‘Of course you would know all about running from oneself.’
Her instinctive counter-attack hit its mark and the speculative humour faded.
‘Yes, I would. The difference between us is that I don’t deny it, I embrace it. Enjoy your stay at Stanton Hall, Miss James, and thank you for your charming recital. You are clearly a very talented performer.’
He bowed and turned before she could think of anything intelligent to say, or think of anything intelligent at all.
Chapter Seven
‘You keep fondling them, you know.’
‘What?’ Christina dragged herself out of her reverie and turned to Ari. With her curls tumbling over her shoulders and her feet tucked under her on the sofa, she looked more like a girl than a grown woman.
‘Those statuettes,’ Ari explained and Christina frowned at the row of figurines she had gathered from around the room and placed on the windowsill. It looked like a peculiar woodland classroom, with animals all gathered, each poised on the verge of action, but frozen in the act of listening to a rotund woman seated on a bench, her legs planted wide with a basket between them and a babe’s head peeking out from the woven surface. It was an extraordinary achievement in such a small figure, both touching and slightly comical.
‘Especially that one.’ Ari added, pointing to the roughly hewn kneeling woman Christina was holding. ‘You used to do that with Emma, the doll with the blue dress, remember? The one with the curls and the little bow that kept slipping.’
‘Of course I remember. You gave it to me the week after I arrived on Illiakos. It was the first gift I had ever received and I remember being terrified your father would be angry at me for accepting it, but I loved it. I don’t remember fondling it, though. I hope no one but you saw me do it. People already thought I was odd.’
‘Not odd, I just don’t think they ever knew what to make of you. But you were always different when it was just us in the nursery. When other people came you were very Miss James. But when no one else was there, you used to hold Emma tucked against you even when you were doing something else like reading me a story or helping me with my lessons. That’s why I remembered when I saw you with those statuettes, it was like being back all those years ago.’ Ari touched her fingertips to her eyes and Christina went sat by her and took her hand. ‘Everything is changing now I am of age,’ Ari continued. ‘I don’t think I am ready. I wish we could stay the way we are. Just you and I and Father. We are happy together, why must anything change?’
‘Some changes you will likely welcome. I know how much you would like children of your own some day.’
‘Oh, yes, I do. But I wish I could have them without a husband.’
‘Well, that might be a tad unconventional. Some day you will meet a man you will trust and with whom you will wish to have a family.’
‘Don’t you wish for that, too? I’m always afraid one of Papa’s courtiers will lure you away.’
There was apprehension in her voice and Christina felt a stab of pain somewhere under her heart. One of the King’s prisoners had almost lured her away, but she had been too
much a coward to risk losing everything she had for a man’s temporary whim. No, not a coward. Sensible. She had no reason to regret that. Where would she have been if she had answered that siren’s call six years ago? Certainly not at Stanton Hall. He would have left her with sufficient funds to live out her life somewhere as he had no doubt provided for other discarded mistresses. Materially safe and emotionally destitute, far from the people who really loved her, who needed her and gave her meaning after a long and lonely childhood. She had been smarter to reject him than she had ever realised. There was absolutely nothing to regret.
‘None of them has ever tempted me and I am too old for folly now, Ari. I shall make do with loving your children.’
‘I know it’s selfish, but I’m glad. I don’t know what I would do if—’
At the sudden knock on the door Christina instinctively clutched the figurine to her chest as if it was to be wrested from her by force. But it was only Lady Albinia who stuck her head around the door.
‘Oh, good. You are awake. I was wondering if you would both care to come with me to visit some friends. The men are all busy so we are free to enjoy our own pursuits which is quite a relief. Men can be so wearying.’
Ari choked on her morning chocolate, her eyes brimming over with laughter as they met Christina’s.
‘We would be delighted, Lady Albinia.’ Christina replied.
‘Good. I shall meet you downstairs in half an hour.’ At the door she stopped and turned. ‘That is lovely, isn’t it?’
For a moment Christina had no idea what Lady Albinia meant, but she followed her eyes to the wood figurine. She turned it over, feeling the long swirls of curved hair slide under the pads of her fingers.
‘It is. I apologise for handling it, it is just so...’ She had no idea quite how to define it.
‘Oh, please do. I think wood wants to be handled.’
‘I have seen many others besides these around the Hall,’ Christina said a little more confidently. ‘That exquisite stag sheltering under the tree, the one in the hallway, and the wooden bowl with the running dogs etched all along the inner rim. And others. I can tell they are all by the same hand; are they part of a set?’
