by Anne Hampson
'Why did Litsa's brothers attack you?' she asked, for at that moment the scar seemed to redden and swell and the nerve she had noticed before began pulsing along its length.
'It was very simple—a case of mistaken identity. My brother and I were the same height and build; it was a very dark night when the attack was made—' He broke off, spreading his hands. 'It's all in the past now, and so there's no profit in talking about it.'
'You fought them all off?' Martine could not help it; she had to know more than he had told her.
'I put up a good show but one had a knife—' Again he broke off, this time because he noticed Litsa's embarrassment, which brought a flow of colour to her cheeks. 'I'll get Hermes to take you home. And let this be a lesson to you, Litsa. Dishonesty will always land you in trouble, and greed is even more evil. I hope you understand what I am saying?'
She nodded, avoiding his gaze. 'I will never do anything like this again.' She moved towards the door, and again tears filled her eyes. 'Kelvin was in love with me, but now that I have not done as he told me I think he will be angry and leave me.'
'Kelvin shall be told that I made you confess.'
Litsa dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief she had forgotten to return to its owner. 'Will you? Oh, that is very kind, Mr. Loukas! Perhaps Kelvin will not go away and leave me after all.'
Martine looked at her, taking in the girl's beautiful classical features, and she said gently after awhile, 'I am sure, Litsa dear, that Kelvin still loves you and that you will be inviting us all to a wedding before very long.'
'Oh…' breathed Litsa. 'It is good of you to say so…'
Luke had already rung the bell and at that moment Hermes came into the room. Litsa said goodbye and left. Martine watched the door close, then looked across the room to where her husband stood with his back to the window. Beyond him was the broad slope leading down to the Sanctuary, and the vista of olives and forest trees with the shimmering river flowing gently, its surface in the sunlight like silver tinted with gold. Closer still was the kaleidoscope of colour and form which made the villa grounds so enchanting. Birds and butterflies flitted about among the flowers and trees and all was so peaceful that it seemed like sacrilege for her and Luke to be standing here, both tensed. And on his part hostility was undisguisedly portrayed in the set of his mouth, the tautness of his jaw, the glitter of anger and contempt in his eyes.
Martine knew that if this situation was to be resolved she would have to accept that she must be the one to make the advances… and to persist in spite of possible rejections. For Luke was so proud! Like an ancient Greek god, he stood looking at her as if in judgement, with condemnation in his eyes and nothing else. He would not meet her half-way, she thought, but suddenly she knew she could not humble herself too much; she would draw the line at going down on her knees to him, even figuratively!
She moved forward and said, in soft and steady tones, 'Luke—I'm sorry for misjudging you. In my own defence I do want to say that when Kelvin first told me what you had done to Litsa I refused to believe it and did say that someone else must be the father—'
'Are you making excuses?' with a sort of icy contempt in his voice. 'If so, you can save your breath.'
She bit her lip and persevered. 'I was merely stating a fact. There is no excuse. In any case, I should have come to you—'
'I cannot understand why you didn't.'
'Kelvin said—'
'Kelvin! My heavens, woman, don't you think I've heard enough of him?'
'—that you would tell me. to mind my own business, that what you had done before our marriage had nothing to do with me, and I had to admit that you would be very likely to adopt that attitude.' She continued as if the interruption had never been made, continued in the face of the rising anger which her husband made no attempt to disguise. 'That was the reason I went to Litsa instead. She told me you were the father—'
'And you were by then only too ready to believe it. So much so that you agreed to leave me and go away with Kelvin!' He came closer now and she could scarcely refrain from stepping back, an action which she knew for sure would only serve to add fuel to the fire of his wrath. 'You'd have broken up our marriage on flimsy evidence like that? Well, as I said before, I now know where I stand.'
She looked at him, noting the inflexibility of his features, the throbbing, uncontrollable pulsing of the scar, the lean brown hands clenched tightly at his sides. More than anything, though, she took notice of the expression in his eyes…
She said quietly, 'If we love each other, Luke, then surely forgiveness is a vital part of it. I'm admitting I was wrong and asking you to forgive me…' Her voice faltered to a stop as he came very close, to tower above her, the bitterness and pain that had been in his eyes giving place to the dark embers of fury.
'If we love each other! What the devil are you talking about? Do you suppose for one moment I could be in love with a woman who does not trust me—who was ready to run away because she believed the lies that had been spoken about me?'
She met his savage gaze unflinchingly as she made one last bid for happiness. 'Perhaps you will not believe me, Luke, but the reason I had decided to leave you had nothing whatsoever to do with the lies you mention. I was leaving because I had discovered I loved you.' She paused, but he did not speak; he just stared down into her eyes, eyes misted with tears, eyes too big for the small, pale face that was raised anxiously to his. 'I believe you love me now—in fact, I have begun to wonder just when you began to love me. I feel we have both held back things we ought to have revealed.'
He still said nothing and after a long silence she continued with a hint of despair, 'I can't humble myself any further, Luke. I have my pride as well as you. I ask you to forgive me and if—if you won't m-meet me half-way—No, I knew from the first that you'd not do that, but I also knew the limits of my own humility as well.' Her eyes were bright with tears but there was a certain element of pride in them, too, which could not possibly escape his notice. 'I've said I love you, without being quite certain that you love me—because you haven't told me that you do. I agreed to go away with Kelvin but I know that, even had you agreed to a divorce, I'd never have married him. He was very angry when I confessed that it was you I loved; he said I'd been willing to use him and I suppose his accusations were justified.'
She stopped and waited, despair gathering and increasing with every second that passed. Then suddenly his whole demeanour changed— his eyes softened, his mouth relaxed and his hands came slowly out to take hers, eagerly, thankfully given. She wept on his breast, wept uncontrollably in relief, for she had been afraid, terribly afraid that his arrogant Greek background would prevail and pride would ruin both their lives. He produced a handkerchief and tenderly dabbed at her eyes, but it eventually took a stern word and a threat to have any effect in stemming her tears.
'It's—reaction,' she quivered. 'Luke, oh, please let me hear you say it!'
But he kissed her first and then said softly, his mouth moist and tender against her cheek, 'I love you, my own darling wife.'
'And you forgive me?'
To her surprise he paused, and then, unexpectedly, 'I think that it is I who must ask forgiveness, my dear. I was so proud, and hurt. I saw again the wrong a woman had done me and I believed I could make myself hate you—hate you so much that I'd never want to come near you again. But I had no intention of ending the marriage—' He was stopped by a tender finger on his lips and he smiled then as he looked with deep love and tenderness into her eyes. 'You're quite right, my dearest love. It is all in the past. We were the victims of a vicious plot and we've emerged triumphant so—yes, beloved, I agree with you that it's all best forgotten.'
His lips were gentle yet strong with passion as they met hers and for a long while there was total silence in the room. Martine was breathless when at last he held her from him, regarding her flushed face at arms' length, his eyes travelling to her hair, which was dishevelled to say the least.
'No, dearest
,' he said with some amusement as he noticed her expression, 'don't ask me when I started to love you because I could not answer. I felt a deep attraction from the first, but with the lesson of Odette ever in my mind I had no intention of running any risks again. I told myself I did not believe in love between a man and a woman.'
'You told me that, too,' she reminded him and he gave her a playful shake. 'Well, I can't help feeling rather clever!' she added and received another shake for her trouble. 'But you believe in it now,' she said confidently, 'and you always will, dearest Luke, because I will never ever let you down.'
'Nor I you, beloved,' was his fervent response and as he drew her close to his heart they both knew without any doubts at all that their love, born in this realm of the pagan gods and heroes of long, long ago, would endure in the same way that the memories of Olympia had done… forever.
