The ceiling was smooth and pure white, while the walls were cut into a series of small niches along two sides, the smoothly curved edges surrounded by a gilded relief of leaves. The floor was tiled in a mosaic of muted reds and blues with gilt surrounds and a tall plant of some kind occupied a squat white urn at the foot of a curving staircase.
That much Corinne had time to see before a door opened and they were no longer alone. A girl about her own age came towards them, tall and angular, with black hair and gleaming dark eyes that made no secret of her curiosity. Head thrown back, she greeted Gregori
with a few abrupt words in Greek, then looked very deliberately at Corinne with a smile on her bright red mouth.
`This is Corinne, my fiancée,' Gregori said, ignoring whatever it was she had said to him in Greek. 'Corinne, cigapitikoz, this is my sister Zoe. You are the same age and I am sure you will become good friends.'
Put as Gregori put it there was little doubt that he had made his wishes known to them both and that he expected them to comply. For her part Corinne was ready to make friends with anyone in the circumstances, and not simply to oblige Gregori, so she extended a hand unhesitatingly. Zoe Kolianos enclosed her hand with long slim fingers and her dark eyes still took stock of her quite openly as she did so. Quite obviously curiosity was her reason for being there.
Walispera sas, thespinis,' she said in a light cool voice, and Gregori frowned.
Quite clearly it was not the welcome he had expected from his sister, and Corinne, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, suspected that she had just received her first snub from the Kolianos family. It was not an encouraging start, and as if he realised how she felt Gregori took her arm once more and drew her with him across the hall, leaving his sister standing there and watching them with dark resentful eyes.
They made for the room that Zoe had just left, but in the same moment that Gregori reached for the handle the door was opened and another woman stood framed in the doorway. She was older than Zoe, more Gregori's age and, Corinne was thankful to notice, much less obviously unwelcoming.
She had gentle dark eyes that switched quickly from Gregori to Corinne and back again before she stepped
back to let them into the room, smiling as Gregori turned to introduce her. 'We thought we heard you arriving,' she told him, and her use of English instead of her native Greek gave Corinne yet another reason to hope that this woman, whoever she was, might prove to be an ally.
Even Gregori's grip on Corinne's arm seemed to have eased a little while he introduced them, as if the woman's greeting and made him feel a little less tense. 'Irine, agapimenoz,' he said. 'I would like you to meet Corinne, my fiancée. Irine Kolianos, my sister-in-law.'
Quite obviously he was fond of her and on impulse Corinne decided that she too could become fond of Irine Kolianos in time. Her smile had a certain reserve, but it was not unfriendly, and she did not cut short her handshake as Zoe had done. 'I am most pleased to meet you, Miss Thomas, welcome to Greece.' Her pronunciation of Corinne's second name was not quite right, but then Gregori had not used it when he introduced her. Possibly she had used the formality of the second name because she wished first to make sure a more familiar approach was welcome.
`Mitera is waiting,' she told Gregori, and led the way across the room. 'We had thought the flight was late, perhaps.'
No one either confirmed or denied it, but Corinne felt her legs again threatening to let her down as she approached an elderly woman who sat tall and straight in one of the armchairs. Given a choice she would have preferred to take refuge in whatever accommodation had been prepared for her until she could recover something of her normal self-confidence, but apparently Gregori wanted to introduce her to his family without delay.
The room itself was almost Spartan in its simplicity, but at the same time bore the unmistakable stamp of comfort
and luxury. The leather armchairs looked deep and comfortable and her feet sank into the deep pile of an Indian carpet, while pale walls, coloured a shade somewhere between cream and the palest grey, reflected the evening sunshine on water from somewhere outside.
Corinne knew something about Madame Argori Kolianos, for Gregori had occasionally mentioned her during their affair in Paris. He had spoken of her with a kind of critical affection, for apparently he gave her cause for doubt sometimes, despite his skilful handling of their company's affairs.
Her elder son, on whom she had pinned all her hopes for the future of Kolianos and Company, had died a year or two before his father did and it was Gregori who inherited the enormous responsibility of the vast shipping business. Not that she disliked her younger son, for he had been the apple of her eye, but she did not see him as a business man and she had never quite learned to trust the family fortunes to him.
Seeing the woman who now waited to be introduced to her, Corinne could understand something of the awe that Gregori claimed she was held in by the rest of the family. She was about sixty-three or four years old and handsome without any pretence at prettiness. Quite clearly it was from his mother that Gregori had inherited his arrogant self-assurance, for she looked the epitome of matriarchy as she sat watching them steadily from across the room.
Her hair was streaked with grey and her angular face lined and grave, her eyes unsmiling but not incurious. She gave her son a look of unmistakable impatience because he had stopped to introduce Corinne to his sister-in-law before bringing her across to her.
'Mama, may I introduce Corinne Thomas, my fiancée.'
A beringed hand was proffered unhesitatingly and Corinne only just managed to suppress a wince of pain when the rings on her fingers pressed into her flesh with the firmness of the grip. 'Corinne; my mother, Madame Argori Kolianos.'
`You are welcome to Greece, Miss Thomas.' The strong voice was heavily accented but perfectly intelligible, and despite the lack of a smile, Corinne felt that there was a certain amount of sincerity in the greeting. She welcomed her to Greece, though not necessarily to her home. 'You have not been to our country before?'
`No, Madame Kolianos, this is my first time.'
Madame Kolianos nodded, her mouth firmly set below an autocratic nose. `Ah, then you will have much to learn of our ways, eh, kopela?' She looked at her son once more but her expression did not change. 'Let us hope that my son proves to be a good instructor!'
If Gregori read anything significant into the adjoinder he gave no sign of it, but took her along to where the only other occupant of the room sat watching them with frankly curious eyes. She was about sixteen or seventeen years old and had something of the same look of defiant challenge that Zoe Kolianos had, but she got to her feet when they approached. More, Corinne suspected, because her upbringing had taught her courtesy rather than for any other reason.
`And this is Iole,' said Gregori, and stroked a light hand down the girl's flushed cheek. 'Iole is Irine and my brother Dimitri's child.'
`I am not a child, Thios Gregori!'
Her reproach was swift and indignant and Corinne noted how good her English was, noticing that even at a moment like this she used the alien tongue out of courtesy. But Corinne could sympathise with her. for
at seventeen it was belittling to be referred to as a child, especially if it was taken literally.
Gregori had never struck her as malicious and she wondered at his lack of tact in this instance, but here in his own home he was subtly different from the man she had known in Paris. This was his home ground and it was fairly obvious from what she had seen so far that he held the whip-hand in his capacity as head of the family.
It seemed for a second or two as if he might ignore his niece's reproach, but then he laughed shortly and kissed the girl's cheek. Iole is just seventeen,' he told Corinne, `and she feels the need to spread her wings. Never mind, little one,' he added, and stroked the soft flushed cheek with a forefinger, 'you will soon learn to trim your wings and accept the word of those who are older and wiser than you are.'
Corinne had been about t
o step in, albeit very cautiously, and suggest that at seventeen it was natural to spread one's wings a little, when Iole spoke up on her own behalf, her eyes bright with defiance. 'Why must I trim my wings, Thios Gregori?' she demanded. 'You do not trim yours; you do as you please and choose where you will, no matter who—'
`Iole!'
A little thrill of warning ran along Corinne's spine as Irine Kolianos called her daughter to order and came across the room to her. The gentle face looked vaguely anxious, but Oregon was already dismissing the reprimand she had been about to deliver, and he gave his attention to his niece once more. Iole’s rash words had been enough to confirm all Corinne's worst fears and he was, she suspected, intent on subduing that small rebel with all the force of his powerful personality.
'You speak without thought, little one,' he told her
With such gentleness that it did not immediately strike Corinne just how iron-hard the hand was in the velvet glove. 'I am a great deal older than you are and see things more clearly. When you have lived for almost thirty-six years then you will have a better understanding of matters that seem to you so simple now.'
But Iole's dark eyes had a bruised and hurt look and she still blamed him, no matter how gently he sought to persuade her. To Corinne who knew nothing of what lay behind this exchange, it seemed that Gregori was trying to impress his will on the girl regarding something she felt strongly about, and she sympathised with her instinctively.
`If I live to be twice thirty-six years,' Iole told her uncle defiantly, 'even if you marry me to Costas Menelus tomorrow, I shall still feel the same way about '
Her grandparent's voice reminded her that there was a stranger in their midst and for a moment sole's dark eyes rested on Corinne, as if she weighed her chances of getting sympathy from the newcomer. But Madame Kolianos extended a hand to her encouragingly, and after a moment or two Iole responded to the summons.
`Ela, pethi,' her grandmother soothed, and kissed her as she drew her into the curve of her arm.
To Corinne the sudden eruption of a family quarrel had momentarily taken her mind off her own position, but she felt she could not long remain aloof from whatever it was they felt so deeply about if it concerned marrying off a seventeen-year-old girl against her will. That was barbaric and she could not stand by and let it happen; but first she must know more about it.
`I am sorry, Corinne.' She brought herself swiftly back to earth and smiled automatically at Gregori, although
she noted the tight line of his mouth and the glittering darkness of his eyes with a certain misgiving. 'We should not greet you with our private disagreements, it is most inhospitable.' He took her hand and squeezed her fingers lightly. 'You must be feeling tired too, my love, and in need of a bath, eh?'
'It would be nice,' Corinne admitted without hesitation, and he bent his head to kiss her beside her ear.
'Take all the time you need.' he whispered. 'Irine will show you to your room and if you feel hungry before it is time for dinner you must have something to eat—we do not dine until nine o'clock.'
'I can survive until then.' She smiled as she brushed back thick auburn strands from her forehead. 'But I'd love a bath and a few minutes to get my breath back, if Madame Kolianos will be so kind as to show me where my room is.'
Corinne realised her mistake too late, and the older woman's voice cut short Irine's attempt to answer. 'My daughter-in-law is known as Kiria Kolianos to those outside the family, Miss Thomas,' she informed Corinne. 'or as Irine to her family. The title Madame Kolianos carries a—certain honorary meaning in my case.'
'I'm sorry, madame.'
Corinne's cheeks coloured furiously, not only because of the reprimand but in anger at her own foolishness in forgetting for a moment what Gregori had told her. Obviously she was meant to see herself as outside the family privileges, but Gregori was speaking up, making his opinion clear before there were any more misunderstandings.
'There is no need for confusion,' he said in a firm confident tone, 'nor is there need for titles except in Mama's case, naturally. As my fiancée you will of course
call us all by our first names, Corinne, and we in turn will call you Corinne. All of us,' he emphasised, giving Madame Kolianos a long hard look which his mother chose to ignore for the moment.
Corinne said nothing, she merely stood beside him and tried to subdue the sudden urge she felt to leave that big handsome room and never come back. The present situation, about how she should be treated, was something she suspected was likely to happen again in the future, and for a moment she wished herself back in the cosy familiarity of the Morgans' little sitting-room.
Even the flat, with Vanessa's constant comings and goings, would have seemed welcoming after this luxurious room with its atmosphere of antagonism. It was when Irine Kolianos turned and smiled at her encouragingly that she realised that Gregori's sister-in-law was likely to be the one to whom she turned most often. Irine was the one to smooth her way in this house of proud and arrogant people.
'Will you come with me?' she asked, and thankfully Corinne nodded.
'Gladly,' she said, and meant it.
They walked in silence across the vast hall as far as the staircase, and then Irine Kolianos turned once more and smiled at her. 'It is all very strange,' she suggested in that gentle voice of hers, and Corinne nodded agreement. A light hand was pressed for a moment on to her arm. 'I know how it feels,' Irine assured her. 'I too was a nervous bride. I came here first as Dimitri's betrothed and I was so afraid of them all that I could scarcely stand, but I learned to love them all, as you will.'
`More to the point,' Corinne suggested as they climbed the wide staircase together, 'is whether they'll ever take to me.'
Irine smiled and nodded assurance, but to Corinne their situations were not comparable. Irine would no doubt have come as Dimitri's bride with the full approval of his family, but with Corinne it was different.
She was not only from a different country and obviously not the woman whom Madame Kolianos would have chosen for her only surviving son's wife, but she brought no dowry with her, no wealth to swell the already rich coffers of the Kolianos fortunes. What was more it was not even absolutely certain that she would marry Gregori, even though she had flown out here to him. No, there could be no comparison with Irine's case —with her and Gregori it was quite different.
CHAPTER THREE
CORINNE soon found that shopping in Athens with Trine was a lot different from shopping at home; for one thing she had never in her life before had so much money to spend and the thought of such lavishness both delighted and alarmed her. It was something she must get used to, she supposed, but the idea of having a wedding gown specially designed and created for her alone was a breathtaking experience. Gossamer lace and whispering silk gave her a thrill of pleasure, and she could not help feeling excited by the prospect of wearing the creation that the designer promised.
Then too, there were day dresses and evening dresses. Hand-painted silks in exquisite colours shimmered like
expensive rainbows through her fingers as she dazedly tried to choose one or two from so many. Irine whirled her round so many shops looking at jewellery, lingerie and furs that she sank gratefully on to a hard chair in the café where they eventually took a break for coffee.
For a moment while they sat there amid the chatter and the delicious smells of coffee and pastries, Corinne thought about how different her wedding might have been. Suppose Robert had professed his love for her earlier, would she have married him? she wondered. She was not at all sure that she would, for although she was admittedly fond of him, she had never thought of him in any other way but as a brother or a cousin—not until that that day at the airport.
`You are dreaming about your wedding day?'
Irine's voice broke into her thoughts and she looked across at her and smiled. If only Irine knew it, she was the mainstay of her existence in her uncertainty, and she often wished that it was Irine and not Zoe who was Gregor
es sister. Zoe, who was so abrasive and determinedly unfriendly that she must surely have some reason for being as she was, other than simply personal dislike.
Irine was so obviously enjoying all the preparations for the wedding that it would have been heartless to do other than share her enjoyment, even though it was only a token gesture most of the time. 'I was thinking of what a riot of spending we've indulged in this morning,' she laughed. 'I'd never have dared to spend so much on my own, Irine.'
`You have enjoyed yourself?' Irine asked, and she nodded. 'Then it is worthwhile!' she declared. `Gregori would expect you to buy whatever you need—'
`Want would be a more apt word!' Corinne told her. `I'm being thoroughly spoiled and I know it!'
'And why should he not spoil you?' Irine wanted to know. 'It is the first time he has loved a woman enough to want to marry her, and the fact that she is very young and lovely makes it so much easier for him to spoil you, if you insist on the word.' Her dark eyes had a musing look for a second or two as she sipped her coffee, then she set down her cup and looked at Corinne directly again. 'You can have no idea, Corinne, what a—a relief it was when Gregori told us that he was bringing home a bride.'
'A relief?'
Irine nodded, her dark eyes earnest. `To know that he was to marry at last instead of merely—' One expressive hand said so much that Corinne hastily looked away. 'We were all so very pleased about it.'
Corinne toyed with the handle of her cup, and her mouth curved into a rather wry smile. 'Not so much when you discovered that I was a foreigner, though, were you, Irine? Especially not Madame Kolianos!'
Irine, discreet and reluctant to hurt as always, sought for the right words before she replied. 'It is natural for a mother to hope that her child will marry someone—familiar,' she said. 'I hope that my own child will do so, but you are young, Corinne, and if Gregori had married a woman of his own age there would have been—less time.'
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