Irine hesitated, out of delicacy, to put her meaning any more explicitly, but Corinne knew well enough what she meant and she was less hesitant. Her chin tilted slightly and there was a flush in her cheeks, but she smiled even so. 'Oh, I can imagine that the fact I'm young enough to have a large family must be in my favour as far as Madame Kolianos is concerned,' she said, and laughed shortly. 'But I had hoped to be considered as something
more than just the producer of the next generation of Kolianoses!'
`Oh, but of course you are!' Irine assured her hastily. `Mitera takes such matters into account, but not so Gregori; or not so much. He is marrying you because he loves you, Corinne. He loves you so much that—' She laughed in sudden embarrassment. 'Oh, but of course you have no need of my reassurances on that point ! '
Corinne's heart beat a little faster as she broached a subject that had often made her curious in the past, but which she had never yet asked about. 'I imagine Gregori's been something of a—a ladies' man,' she ventured. 'He's a very attractive man and at thirty-five he must have had —affairs.'
`You do not mind?' Irine asked, and Corinne laughed. `I told you, I expect it—I can hardly be surprised with a man like Gregori '
`You are very wise,' Irine told her with obvious relief. `Of course you will know what a very virile man he is, much better than I, but I do not believe he has ever loved anyone before, although he has been in love. That makes sense, yes?'
Corinne nodded. Although she was much younger than Gregori, her own experience was much the same. She had had boy-friends ever since her early teens, and several times had imagined herself in love. But as Irine said, she had never really loved until that wildly exciting affair with Gregori in Paris. She had been so sure then that it was the real thing and she wished she need not be plagued with such doubts every so often now. If only she knew him better!
`Hasn't he ever come close to being married before?' she asked, still seeking to widen her knowledge of him, but Irine did not look at her directly.
`Never to my knowledge,' she said, and put down her empty cup. 'If you have finished your coffee, Corinne, shall we make our way back to the car and go home?'
'By all means.' She looked at the packages they had with them and thought of all the others to be delivered, and shook her head. 'I think we'd better!' she said.
It might simply have been her imagination, but Corinne felt almost sure that Irine had cut their conversation short rather than have her probe further into Gregori's past loves. And as they walked out into the street together she wondered what there was that Trine was reluctant to talk about.
It was rather like burying her head in the sand, Corinne realised, but it always gave her a vague sense of panic whenever wedding plans were discussed, and at the moment it was almost inevitable. So far, apart from going with Irine to buy her wedding gown and trousseau, Corinne had had very little to do with the arrangements for the big day, which was a situation that suited her future mother-in-law very well, for she had a genius for organisation.
Corinne had no family to speak of, so she felt she had very little interest in who attended the traditional feast that would follow the ceremony. She could have invited the Morgans, she supposed, but that presented problems. They were not wealthy people and they all three held down jobs, so that not only would they need to apply for time off but they would also have to spend a great deal of money on fares to attend an occasion that would last for only a few 'hours. Such considerations might not occur to people like the Kolianoses, but to Corinne with her memories of being a lowly paid secretary, it was a very real concern.
Gregori, on the other hand, had numerous relatives who would all expect invitations, as well as any number of family friends and acquaintances. A wedding was very much a community affair in Greece, and especially in a country area like this. She was so preoccupied with the thought of being the only alien face at her own wedding that for a moment she failed to realise that Madame Kolianos was speaking to her.
'I'm sorry, madame.' She brought herself hastily back to reality and smiled an apology. 'I was miles away.'
Evidently the colloquialism was known to her, for Madame Kolianos did not question it. 'That means you are absent in the mind?' she guessed. and Corinne nodded. 'You were dreaming of your wedding, of course.' She did not wait for confirmation, but went on, 'I asked if there was anyone whom you wished to invite to the dexiosiz. You have not mentioned anyone as yet, and it is important that the lists be completed very soon. Have you anyone in mind, Corinne?'
It followed so closely on her own thoughts that Corinne did not hesitate about shaking her head; she had already decided. 'No, I haven't, madame.'
Madame Kolianos arched her black brows in surprise. 'Your parents are both dead, I believe?' she said, and then seemed to realise how painfully blunt she had been and inclined her head in a gesture of apology. 'Forgive me for speaking so forthrightly.' she said with unexpected humility. 'I did not intend you any hurt, pethi, but it is unfortunate when a young woman does not have the support of her family at such a time. Have you no other relatives?'
Not really.' Corinne wondered just how much Madame Kolianos actually knew about her. Gregori knew little enough, but perhaps he had told his mother
even less about her prospective daughter-in-law. 'My mother had a couple of brothers, but I've never met either of them.' She pulled a face, recognising that in the eyes of Madame Kolianos her own case and her mother's were probably comparable. 'Mama was cut off by her family when she married Daddy. He wasn't considered good enough for her and they just didn't bother.'
Her guess had been right, she knew it from the understanding gleam in the older woman's eyes as she displayed definite but tactful interest in the matter while she got on with her meal. 'He was an unsuitable choice?' she guessed.
`They thought so, Mama didn't,' Corinne told her. `And she was proved right. Daddy was an orphanage child, he never knew who his parents were and he had no money at all when they married; he never had any in fact, he was much too unworldly. But somehow they managed to give me a fairly good education and they were sublimely happy together for nearly twenty years. I loved them.'
Her simple declaration obviously touched Madame Kolianos, for there was a look of gentle understanding in her eyes for a moment, a warmth that Corinne had never seen there before. But she was above all else a practical woman, and she was thinking in terms of her only son's future as well as the future of her family's fortunes.
`Happiness is a great consideration,' she allowed, 'but there are more practical considerations to bear in mind when making a marriage, you must realise that, pethi.'
Looking at her Corinne wondered how willing a bride she had been. Whether making the best of an arrangement had given her that severely practical outlook, or if she had been born with it. It was the first time she had
come close to trying to understand her future mother-in-law, and it surprised her to realise that she was beginning to like her, despite their widely different temperaments.
'I suppose there are other factors to take into account, madame,' she agreed with a half-smile, 'but Mama was impulsive.'
'As you are, eh, Corinne?' The bright dark eyes held hers steadily, but it was Gregori who took up the challenge, his deep, quiet voice edged with that chill of steel.
'From whom then do I inherit my impulsiveness, Mama?' he asked. 'Not from you, evidently. And yet it was I who broached the matter of marriage when it had not even entered Corinne's head.'
He had intended it as a defence of her, Corinne knew, and she felt a glow of satisfaction that he came so swiftly and willingly to her aid. Madame Kolianos, however, was not to be defeated. 'I am certain that you are wrong, my son,' she told him with staggering confidence. 'A young girl who has an affair in Paris with an attractive older man almost certainly has marriage in mind. Am I not correct, Corinne?'
How could Corinne answer her? She was not even sure she knew herself what she had expected; she had been sur
e she loved him, that she would never love anyone else as long as she lived and his proposal had seemed a natural conclusion to a wonderful experience. 'I don't know,' she confessed. 'It all happened so quickly, I hadn't time to think about the whys and wherefores of it, it just happened.'
'And now the wedding is almost upon us,' Madame Kolianos said with a touch of impatience, 'and the guest lists are still not complete. Tell me, Corinne, do you have anyone you would wish to invite?'
'No one, thank you,' said Corinne. 'I've decided against asking the Morgans to come over, it isn't really worth their while making such a long trip.'
She was aware that Gregori had looked up swiftly at the mention of the name, and she knew he was thinking of Robert. His existence had always made him frown, as if he did not altogether like the idea of there being someone like Robert who was so close to her, although he had never actually said anything about it.
Madame Kolianos had noticed her son's sudden interest too, and she eyed Corinne curiously. 'The Morgans?' she asked.
'They're old friends of my parents,' Corinne explained, `and they were very good to me when Mama and Daddy died. I don't know what I'd have done without them then. Ann and Clifford knew my folks before they were married, and Robert—' She had been going to say that Robert was like a brother to her, but that was no longer true. 'Robert is their son, he's a couple of years older than me, he had his twenty-fifth birthday last month.'
She was talking too quickly and she knew it, but she was much too aware of Gregori's eyes watching her, almost as if he knew of Robert's feelings for her, so recently declared. Madame Kolianos suspected something of the kind too, she thought, and her nodding head suggested she had had some point confirmed.
`Ah !' she said. 'And you have decided against inviting these people to your wedding in three weeks' time?'
Corinne imagined Ann, Clifford and Robert among the alien company that would grace a Kolianos wedding and reaffirmed her decision. 'I think so,' she said. 'I shall visit them later in England.'
Madame Kolianos raised her fine black brows. 'That
will of course depend upon your husband granting permission,' she said, and for the moment Corinne was too preoccupied to resent the suggestion.
'Did you say in three weeks?' she asked. 'I'd no idea it was so soon.'
Madame Kolianos was frowning at her curiously. 'You surely knew of the date?' she said. 'It was arranged before you came here.'
'Yes, I suppose I did.' Corinne laughed and despaired of the shaky sound of it. 'It's just that everything is so —different, I can't keep track of it. I suppose if I'd been married at home, as is usual. I'd have taken a bigger part in the organising and—'
'My son's marriage has very little to do with custom,' Madame Kolianos observed tartly. 'It is taking place with such indecent haste that it is bound to be noticed. and his family did not see and approve the bride before the betrothal! Nothing is as usual in your marriage, Corinne!'
Once more Gregori interposed quickly, taking up the challenge on her behalf, and his eyes glittered darkly with resentment. 'The choice was mine,' he declared firmly, 'both of the bride and the date of our wedding!'
Madame Kolianos was watching her closely, Corinne knew. 'And what of your bride?' she asked her son quietly. 'Does she have a choice, my son?'
Now it was his eyes that watched her, forcing her to look at him, dark and gleaming and showing a hint of the passion that so quickly possessed him. 'It is also my bride's choice,' he assured his mother, and in the circumstances Corinne could not bring herself to deny it.
It was later, when the meal was over, that Gregori came to find her. She sat out in the garden in the warm evening air, surrounded by the heady mixture of scents
that were never more exotic than at this time of the day, and she viewed his arrival with mixed feelings.
She could not deny that the sight of him in the brilliance of moonlight brought an urgent flutter to her heartbeat as he came towards her, but he was too disturbing a companion when she had need to think about how little time there was until she married him. In a light suit his dark colouring looked so much more effective, and he had abandoned the tie he had worn for the office, leaving a dark vee of bronzed throat at the neck of his shirt.
He looked at ease, and yet there was something about him that made Corinne certain there was something on his mind. He held a cigarette between his fingers that spiralled smoke as he walked, but he made no attempt to put it to his lips, and as he approached her he flung it from him into the bushes.
Hmm?' He extended a hand to her and she took it quite automatically, for he had extended that very same, slightly quizzical invitation many times before.
`You do not dislike the idea of walking with me?' he asked, and made Corinne wonder if she had been a little too obvious about her desire to be alone.
`No, of course I don't mind, Gregori.'
She enjoyed the gardens by moonlight, and they were much more extensive than she had realised the first time she saw them. They were so lushly prolific too that it was possible to lose direction unless one was very sure of the geography of the paths. Orange and eucalyptus trees and tall slender cypress formed a barrier between them and the country beyond, and gave her a curious sense of security.
Gregori definitely had something on his mind, she had no doubt of it now, and she glanced at the strong profile
that looked so much more primitive in the moonlight. His hand enclosed hers and his strong gentle fingers squeezed lightly every so often as if to convey a message. He raised it to his lips when he caught her looking at him, then pressed it to his breast over the throbbing urgency of his heartbeat.
`You do not wish your friends to come to our wedding?' he asked, and, taken by surprise, Corinne did not answer at once.
'I—I thought it might be better not to ask them,' she said.
`You have some special reason for not wanting them here?'
She tried to tell herself that he could not possibly know about Robert's feeling for her, but it was a curious thing to have asked, and she frowned up at him. 'You might find it hard to understand,' she said in a slightly husky voice, 'but they can't afford to fly all this way just for a few days, and I doubt if they could all get the necessary time off from their jobs either, in the time.'
`And you think I would not understand that?'
'I don't know.' She glanced up at him briefly. 'I didn't know what you meant by a special reason for not asking them.' She shook her head. 'That's it, you see, I don't really know you as well as I should know the man I'm going to marry in three weeks' time.'
They were in the fragrant shadow of an orange tree when Gregori brought them to a standstill with his hands on her shoulders. 'I know you well enough, my lark,' he said, and his voice had the caressing softness of velvet.
'Do you?'
He bent and kissed her lips; a light lingering kiss that promised all the passion and excitement she knew him to be capable of. 'I believe so,' he said. 'Although there
are times when you puzzle me, I confess.' He was smiling; a glimpse of white in the darkness of his face, and his hands either side of her head threaded their long fingers through her hair, running gently and caressingly through its silky length. 'Three weeks is not too soon for you, is it, my lark?' he asked softly. 'Are you not as impatient as I am for us to marry?'
So many times Corinne had asked herself the same question, and never yet had she known the answer. Nor did she now, as she kept her gaze on the firm curve of his mouth rather than meet his eyes. 'I don't know,' she confessed, and the hands that had been so caressingly gentle held her firm for a moment and tipped back her head so that he could look into her face with bright gleaming eyes that looked as black as jet in the moonlight.
'Then I must convince you, my love, must I not?' he said, and brushed her mouth with his lips. 'I wish only to please you. If you would like your friends to come to our wedding, then I will see that they are flown out here as our honoured guests. Is that
what you would like?'
His generosity was staggering, but Corinne could not see Robert as anything but a very unhappy spectre at the feast in the circumstances, and to invite Ann and Clifford without him would be to invite comment. Nevertheless she found it curiously affecting to realise what lengths he was ready to go to to please her.
Impulsively she reached up to kiss him. 'That's very generous of you,' she told him. 'It wouldn't be possible for several reasons, but thank you for thinking of it.'
'I wanted to please you, my lark, that was all,' he whispered. 'I love you.'
He curved a large hand around her cheek, and his eyes
when they looked at her as they did now reminded her of other moonlight nights, so that she shivered with pleasure at the memory. He put his arms around her, drawing her close until she tipped back her head and looked up at him.
His lips brushed her neck, muffling the soft words of his own tongue in the thickness of her hair. Then he sought her mouth and kindled the same wild rapture she had yielded to so often in the past. Lifting her arms, she encircled his neck and drew the dark head down even closer, her body responding to the urgent desires of his. She could not think beyond this moment and nor did she wish to.
With only four days until the wedding, Corinne felt disturbingly restless as she looked out at the pine trees hemming in the house on all sides. The past two and a half weeks had passed alarmingly quickly, but with Irine as her almost constant companion it had been difficult not to get caught up in the excitement of the preparations.
The wedding gown had been delivered; and it was a far more extravagant one even than she had realised, but it was being brought home to her at every turn that nothing but the best was good enough for a Kolianos bride. The honeymoon must needs be brief, so Gregori had informed her with obvious regret, because unfortunately he had an important business meeting to attend only five days after they were married.
Lark in an Alien Sky Page 5
