Lark in an Alien Sky

by Rebecca Stratton

  Even without looking at him Corinne could imagine the look in those deep dark eyes as they watched her. `And did you imagine that hearing no word from you and knowing you were over there with Robert Morgan, I would do nothing about it until morning?'

  She should have known he would come for her, Corinne realised, because he was worried about not hearing, if for no other reason. 'I should have known you'd come,' she acknowledged.

  `Of course you should! How would I know whether or not you were safe? There were a thousand and one reasons why I would come for you, Corinne, not least because I feared you ' He shook his head quickly. A long gentle finger lifted a tear from her lashes, then she heard him sigh and the cooling of his temper was like the passing of a storm. 'I believe your incredible innocence because I want so much to believe it,' he said. 'It is my weakness that I cannot stop trusting you!'

  'But you can trust me!' Looking up at him she saw that in the greenish glow of the starboard light, his skin took on a curiously metallic gleam. He looked like a bronze sculpture, with a godlike ruthlessness that was alarmingly affecting. 'You needn't doubt that I'll marry you as I promised in three days' time,' she told him. 'I shan't break my promise!'

  He gripped his fingers tightly about her upper arms and his eyes glittered in that uncanny green light. 'Indeed you will not, my lovely !' he vowed. 'No matter what your friend may have suggested I would do if he kept you there with him, I have no intention of letting you go! You love me! How can I doubt it when each time I hold you in my arms you burn with a passion as fierce as my own? Do you think I could lose you now?'

  `I've promised,' she said again, in a voice so small it was barely audible above the hum of the engine as the boat sped across the water to Piraeus.

  `And will you also promise never to cause me such anguish again as you did by going off with Robert Mergan today?'

  `Anguish?' She looked up at him questioningly, for it seemed so strong a word to use, but Gregori pulled her close into his arms and looked down at her, his eyes glowing darkly in that face of sculpted bronze.

  `How could I be sure that you had not gone away with him?' he demanded harshly. `Do you think it was only my pride that was hurt, Corinne?'

  His arms crushed her with steely strength as fierce as the ardour that burned in his eyes, and Corinne shook her head slowly back and forth. Twining a hand in the silky thickness of her hair, he held back her head and exposed the vulnerable softness of her throat, murmuring words in his own tongue that conjured up warm spring nights in Paris. Then he bent his head and plunged his mouth into the soft hollow of her throat, his lips searingly fierce on her cool skin.

  With a little sigh of surrender Corinne reached up her arms to him, and her body responded as it always did to the wild desire that only he could kindle. He took her mouth with an almost brutal force and her spirit soared exultantly into a world of sublime ecstasy. He had pride in plenty, but how could she doubt that he loved her too? She would marry him in three days' time, but not only because there was no other way for her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CORINNE could recall the past few hours only in a kind of daze. The church that was much too small to accommodate all the relatives and friends as well as the inevitable people who simply loved a wedding, and especially when they could anticipate a good feast afterwards. The Kolianoses were wealthy and the tables would be well-laden and the wine flowing freely.

  A cousin of Gregori's had acted as his koumbciros, holding garlands of leaves above their heads while they stood at the altar. The exchanging of rings, the chanting of the priest and then the traditional three circuits of the lectern while the guests threw flower petals, streamers and rice; it all seemed so much like an exciting and noisy dream that Corinne found it hard to believe it had actually happened.

  The sound of the bells still seemed to ring in her ears, high and thin above the musicians' jigging accompaniment that led the dancing people all the way back from the church. It seemed to Corinne that the whole village had attended their wedding, as well as the uncles, aunts and cousins she had been introduced to but since forgotten because they were so numerous.

  She had expected excitement, but not the kind of excitement that these garrulous, lively people injected into the occasion, and she had drifted through it all like someone in a dream. Everyone had agreed, although Gregori had needed to translate the compliments for her, that she was a beautiful bride in the white silk and lace

  gown that she and Irine had chosen.

  A veil and a coronet of flowers covered her thick auburn hair. The traditional offerings of money were pinned to both the veil and her gown, covering her with the symbols of wealth from head to foot and fluttering distractingly each time the light wind caught them. The wine she had drunk in answer to repeated toasts had given her a strange feeling of unreality, and she found it hard to realise that the occasion that she had shied away from so determinedly only weeks ago was at last a reality. She was actually Gregori's wife.

  The sounds of excited Greek voices, and of laughter thickened by generous draughts of wine, followed her as she went into the house and upstairs to her room. The room that would no longer be hers when she returned from a brief honeymoon, but which she was to use for the last time to change out of her bridal dress.

  Trine was to have helped her change, into a soft pale green dress that Gregori had chosen especially for her, because it flattered her red hair and green eyes, he said, but at the last moment Corinne had asked to be allowed to do it alone. Trine had complied although obviously the request puzzled her.

  Outside in the gardens every available space seemed to be taken up with tables laden with food and drink, and it was noisy. The happy sounds, traditional on such occasions, but which made Corinne feel disturbingly alien when so much of the talk going on around her was in a language she could not understand.

  Already, as she mounted the stairs, the peace and quiet of the big house had a soothing effect, and she made her way along the carpeted landing without hurrying. There was time enough before she and Gregori left for their four-day honeymoon, but she had given herself

  plenty of time, as she was changing without Irine's help.

  Her footsteps deadened by the carpet made her aware suddenly of the sound of someone moving on the landing ahead of her and she looked up, vaguely surprised, at the young man who moved swiftly away from her. She had no idea where he had come from and she did not recognise him; but then most of the people at her wedding were strangers to her, and she looked at him, only vaguely curious.

  It was almost as if they sensed one another's presence in the same moment, for he turned his head suddenly and looked over his shoulder at her. She had a fleeting impression of panic in his dark eyes before he hurried on, almost running now and making for the back stair. A narrow flight that gave access to the garden via the servants' living quarters.

  'Just a moment!'

  Calling after him was purely instinctive and prompted by his air of stealth, but he did not attempt to stop, only said something in Greek which she could not have understood anyway, even had it been audible. Instead he went more quickly than ever and began the descent in quick anxious steps, until he disappeared from her sight.

  Not concerned enough to bother herself further, Corinne went on past the bedroom doors, until one of them opened suddenly as she passed and Iole came out. It must have been her imagination, but it seemed in that first instance that Iole looked slightly taken aback when she saw her, and her eyes shifted uneasily.

  Corinne was never quite sure how to deal with Gregori's niece, for it was difficult to get close to her because of that more or less permanent air of resentment and defiance. Whatever it was had caused the near-quarrel between Iole and Gregori on Corinne's first day

  there had presumably been forgotten by everyone except Iole, for Corinne had never heard it mentioned again.

  `You've soon changed out of your finery,' she said, with a hopefully friendly smile.

  Following t
radition, Iole had been one of the unmarried girls attending the bride, wearing coronets of flowers and carrying beribboned candles. The rest of the girls still wore their finery while they mingled with the guests downstairs, but apparently Iole had dispensed with hers as soon as possible. She looked only slightly discomfited by the question and shrugged carelessly.

  `I hate dressing-up,' she said, and caught Corinne's eye with that unmistakable glint of challenge and defiance. 'You don't mind, do you, Corinne?'

  Taking a leaf out her book, Corinne too shrugged and shook her head. 'No, of course I don't mind,' she said. `Why should I?' A recollection of the figure she had seen on the landing came to her then and she attempted another subject. 'You didn't see anything of a mysterious young man wandering around up here earlier on, did you?' she asked. 'I saw him on the landing along there and he bolted like a rabbit for the back stairs when I spoke to him.'

  Iole's eyes were wary again and hastily avoided hers. Shrugging once more with the carelessness that only one of her race could convey, she made to move past her. 'Oh, heaven knows,' she said. 'It was just one of the guests, I expect. The house is teeming with people for this wedding!'

  'I just wondered who he was,' said Corinne, but Iole was already making for the main staircase and did not even turn her head.

  Watching her almost run down the stairs, Corinne shrugged as she turned to go to her own room. As Iole said, the house was teeming with people and she herself knew very few of them; it was quite possible, she supposed, that Iole did not know them all, and yet— She shook her head as she opened her bedroom door. She did not understand Iole, nor did she think she ever would, but she had other things to think about at the moment.

  There was a comforting familiarity about her room that was rather surprising when she considered she had occupied it for barely more than seven weeks. Maybe the fact that she would no longer have the privacy of a room of her own after today made her view it differently.

  Almost without exception, whenever she came into this room she went straight across to the window and looked down into the gardens at the back of the house. But today the scene differed enormously from its customary peace and quiet. From above the wedding feast appeared to have been embroidered like a tapestry against an exotic background of shrubs and flower borders, and the whole bright picture framed in dark pines that clustered protectively around it.

  Nearest to the house, the pool, like an opulent blue gem in its setting of white marble, was an oasis of quiet and cool. Beyond that the laden tables, and the guests in their best clothes; the small orchestra of bouzoukis and guitar plucking out traditional songs and dances wove a bright pattern of colour in the fierce sun.

  The garden door from the kitchen was directly below her and as she started to draw back a movement caught her eye. It must be an absolute hive of activity in the kitchen today and they must be falling over one another as they scurried back and forth replenishing the feast. Possibly it was an attempt to remain unseen while he

  made his way through the kitchen that had delayed the departure of the young man she had seen on the landing earlier. For Corinne had no doubt at all that it was him she saw creeping stealthily away, and she leaned forward to see more clearly.

  His clothes precluded the idea of his being a temporary hired help, and he was one of the guests, as Iole suggested, then he could be expected to make his way back to the wedding feast, but he did not. Instead he made directly for the corner of the house nearest to him with such unmistakable stealth before disappearing from her sight into a thick border of shrubs that she began to wonder if she ought to tell Gregori about him, in view of the number of wealthy guests at the wedding.

  What caused her to hesitate was an impression she had gained that, despite her denials and apparent casualness, Iole knew who he was. Corinne stood before the mirror and removed the coronet of flowers from her head, complete with the veil and a shower of fluttering paper money, then ran her hands over the lace dress, similarly endowed, while she gazed absently at her reflection.

  She began to unpin the notes as she recalled her first introduction to Gregori's family. Iole had protested indignantly at being referred to as a child and declared that no matter how long she was married to Costas Menelus, the man designated as her future husband, she would never forget And at that point Madame Kolianos had silenced her.

  But was Iole quite as subdued by family insistence as she appeared to be, or did she have some of the same stubbornness that her uncle showed when it came to choosing a life partner? Corinne wondered. Perhaps now that she was Gregori's wife she should take a more

  responsible view of Iole's rebellion, but she could not find it in her heart to condemn her for her attitude.

  Looking at her own reflection for a moment in the long mirror she ran her hands once more over the exquisite white lace, then shook her head suddenly and pulled it downward, and off over her hips. From now on she had quite enough to anticipate in the matter of her own future as Gregori's wife, without becoming involved in Iole's problems. And if the young man had been to see her, it was Iole's concern.

  The pale green dress was perfection, and she spent a moment admiring her husband's undoubted good taste. The colour was complimentary without making too bold a contrast with her auburn hair, and it fitted her firm young figure with the seductive flattery of pure silk. Such expensive luxuries were, she supposed, something she would come to accept as a member of the Kolianos family, but she doubted if she would ever become blasé about it.

  Her dressing completed, she came downstairs once more and was halfway across the hall to rejoin the wedding feast when Iole came in from the garden. Through the open doorway behind her the big oval pool glittered in the sunlight, forming a barrier of quiet between the house and the sounds of revelry in the gardens beyond, so that Iole had no need to raise her voice to make herself heard. From the way she looked as Corinne approached her, it was clear that she had something to say, and she stopped when they drew level.

  `Corinne—'

  Iole's dark eyes often reminded her of Gregori's. They were huge and sultry and set between similar long thick black lashes, but it was not usual to see them look as appealing as they did now. She looked far more than her

  seventeen years, in a rather sophisticated dark red silk that gave her a gypsy look, and also emphasised the fact that she would not always be as gauntly slim as she was now.

  But it was that look of appeal that Corinne noticed, and for the first time since their initial meeting she felt the kind of sympathy for her that an older sister might. `Iole, is something wrong?'

  The girl glanced over her shoulder, but no one seemed yet to have realised that the bride had reappeared, and the laughter and the talk went on. 'I have something to ask of you,' Iole began, and it was obvious that she found it hard to confide in her. 'When you saw that man upstairs—' She broke off abruptly, biting her lip.

  `Signomi, Kiria Kolianos.' Corinne turned swiftly, momentarily startled to hear herself addressed by her new title, and the manservant who had used it smiled faintly at her response. `Signomi, kiria, but there is a caller for you in the salon.'

  `A caller?'

  Iole was momentarily forgotten as she frowned at him curiously. He had an inexplicable air of reticence, she thought, and it puzzled her for the moment. He glanced at Iole, but when Corinne turned to apologise to her the girl was already leaving them, making her way back to the party.

  Disappointed to lose what had promised to be a confidence from her newly acquired niece, she was nevertheless too intrigued by the man's message to call after her, and Corinne shrugged resignedly. 'Who is it, Vassos?' she asked, and the man lowered his voice quite obviously when he told her.

  `It is an English gentleman, kiria, who says he is a friend.'

  Corinne's heart gave a breathtaking leap suddenly and she looked at the man uncertainly, grateful nevertheless for his discretion. 'A Mr Morgan?' she asked, and Vassos nodded agreement.

  From his eye
s it was obvious that the arrival of this strange man claiming to be a friend of the bride, but not an invited guest, puzzled him. But he had taken care that he gave her the message as discreetly as he could, and Corinne gave him a brief smile of thanks. 'Thank you, Vassos, I'd better see him. But—' she hesitated, wondering just how far the man could be trusted, `I'd rather no one knew that I have a visitor for the moment.'

  He nodded his understanding, obviously intrigued by the behaviour of his employer's new bride. 'I will tell no one, kiria,' he vowed, then glanced across at Iole's tall straight figure as she skirted the pool on her way back to the party. 'But I do not know if Thespinis Iole

  `Oh, you needn't worry about that,' Corinne assured him swiftly.

  Unless she was very much mistaken, Iole was in no position to carry tales. Following the man's information, she went into the house again and made for the main salon where she expected to find Robert waiting for her, and she told herself as she went that she was not deceiving Gregori. She was simply making sure that he was not upset by her very natural desire to say goodbye to an old friend.

  When she first opened the salon door it struck her how alien Robert looked in this big and rather severely luxurious room. He was wearing a suit and not a tee-shirt and slacks as he had been when she saw him last, and she approached him with a certain reticence. He noted the pale green dress and his eyes showed appreciation of Gregori's taste, but he did not attempt to kiss her

  or even take her hands. Instead he simply stood and waited for her to cross the room to him, outwardly calm, until she noticed the wariness in his eyes.

  `Hello, Corinne.' He did not smile either, and she felt rather sad suddenly at seeing him so formal and obviously ill at ease. 'I suppose I should address you as Madame Kolianos now.'