During the next few days Kim watched her father's condition deteriorate as tension and anxiety built up; she saw her mother become thin and ashen-faced as she and her husband lost all hope of ever finding peace of mind again. And in her frustration at not being able to help, it was only natural that Kim's mind should repeatedly recapture that meeting with Vidas Christou when he had offered marriage but would not hear of a monetary gift as well. If only there was a way in which she could persuade him to change his mind. He had been adamant about genuinely wanting her to accept his offer even though he had not wanted her to marry Dendras. The more she dwelt on it, the more attractive the idea of writing to him and telling him the reason for her wanting money became. Perhaps she would touch some cord of compassion hidden in his Greek nature. At last, having made a firm decision, she went up to her room and took from a drawer the calling card given her by Dendras. The address was short and impressive: Castello Astura, Malindos, Greece.
As she wrote her letter she naturally thought about her 'condition' and tried to visualise what would happen when she said there had been a mistake and she was not pregnant after all. Would he accept her word, or would he decide she was a fraud? After thinking about it more deeply than she had before, Kim felt he would take her word, simply because Dendras had already conditioned Vidas's mind to the fact that she had genuinely believed she was pregnant. The next move on Vidas's part would surely be the request for an annulment, which would suit Kim very well, although this might be delayed if it so happened that Mrs. Christou had not yet made her departure from the castle. Yes, mused Kim as she continued to write, it was in the cards that Vidas would want an annulment, especially since the marriage was a sham anyway.
The answer to her letter arrived with surprising speed. Her mother glanced at the foreign stamp and asked who was writing to her.
'The Greek friend I told you about,' answered Kim, taking the envelope with a shaking hand.
'Oh, yes, I remember.' That was all. Mrs. Rosswell left her and went to give her husband his tablets and a drink.
Kim took the letter to her bedroom, holding it as if it were hot, her rather dazed eyes scanning the firm, strong handwriting. 'Imperious' and 'superior' were the adjectives that came to mind as she slit open the envelope, and it was only as she read the contents of the letter that she fully realised just how little hope she had had in her approach, how she had expected nothing to come of it. Yet what she read, on the contrary, was that Vidas was coming over to see her within the next day or so. Which is precisely what he did.
The interview, however, threatened to end abruptly when—as if the idea had only just occurred to him—Vidas asked if Kim was quite sure it was his brother's child she was expecting. At these words fire leapt to her eyes. If she still felt any guilt about the deception, those insulting and unnecessary words would have swept it away.
'Certainly it's his!' Kim felt as if she was not acting a part at all, but living through a real experience. 'How dare you ask a question like that?'
He looked down at her from his superior height, subjecting her to a long unnerving stare. She coloured with guilt and hoped he would take it for embarrassment.
'How old are you?' he demanded. 'Not as old as I at first assumed.'
'I'm almost twenty-three,' she answered, thinking it would not be surprising if she did look older, considering what she had been through during these past fateful weeks.
'How long did you… keep company with my brother?'
Kim licked her lips, sure of making a blunder whether she lied or not. She decided to tell the truth. 'Three months.'
'Three months, and you conceived a child.' Although there was nothing in his voice to betray his contempt, she knew it was there and she averted her eyes, swallowing convulsively. It seemed impossible that she should be emotionally affected by this man's contempt, and yet there was a strange, unbearable pain in the region of her heart, as if a dagger were piercing it. She lifted her eyes to his, limpid eyes misted with tears, appealing eyes, which seemed to startle him and fix his gaze, and the long moment of silence became profound, electric. Kim felt prickles along her spine, and all at once her legs were weak and she swayed towards him. He put out his hands to steady her, warm strong hands that sent vibrations through her body. She closed her eyes, conscious of a sensation of nausea, and realised that the terrible strain of the past few weeks was beginning to have its effect on her.
'I—I must sit down,' she stammered, unaware that every vestige of colour had left her face.
'You're feeling ill?' Although there was harshness in his voice, she detected concern as well. 'Can I get you something?'
Her mouth felt painfully dry. 'A glass of water, please.'
He led her to the couch and sat her down, his gaze unreadable as she sank into the cushions and rested her head against the back of the couch.
'That's the kitchen?' He walked towards the door as he spoke. Kim wondered if he had ever seen the inside of a kitchen before. Certainly he had not been in a kitchen of such small dimensions.
He soon returned and she gratefully accepted the glass and its sparkling contents. Their fingers touched; she lowered her lashes to hide her expression.
'Thank you.' She put the empty glass into his extended hand after gulping down the water. 'I don't know what came over me.' She was thankful her parents were out walking in the park, her mother having decided to take advantage of the burst of sunshine that had dispersed the greyness of a cloud-filled sky. 'I don't often feel faint like that.'
'It's your condition, of course.'
Her condition… She had forgotten all about her pose! 'Yes, it must be,' she agreed weakly.
'You had better explain more fully why you want this money,' he said, getting down to business at last.
'You'll agree to my terms, then?'
'I do not care for the word "terms,"' he said, eyes glinting.
'I'm sorry. What I meant was—will you give me the money I need?'
'It depends on how much it is, and on whether I'm convinced by the story you tell me. There was enough in your letter to interest me, but certainly not to induce me to part with money unless I feel sure it's for the purpose you state.' He looked into her pale face and seemed deeply interested in what she would say.
'As I mentioned in my letter, my parents are in distress at the present time.' She went on to tell him of the scandal that would result from the trial, and the gossip that would continue afterwards. The disgrace, the shame, and the avoidance of contact with friends and neighbors. 'They must get away before it all begins,' she went on desperately. 'Then they will have a chance, at least, of happiness. I told you in my letter about Father's heart condition, didn't I?' She lifted her eyes to look appealingly at him and had the odd sensation of being examined for something he had missed, 'If he should have another attack he could die… Her voice weakened, then stopped, and two great tears rolled down her cheeks. 'I love my parents,' she whispered. 'And Mother's so in love with my father that if he died then she—she would die too.' Her voice caught and a strange, unfathomable expression crossed the Greek's dark face.
'So they need money to get away from here?'
'Yes. The house is mortgaged.'
'I see….' A thoughtful silence followed and then, 'Where do they want to go?'
Kim stared, searching his face. Although it was as cold and hard as tempered steel, she found her heart beginning to beat rapidly as hope gained strength within her. 'Mother's mentioned Spain,' she answered tentatively, 'as some of their friends have retired there.'
'They'd need to buy a house?'
'No, just an apartment.'
Vidas moved and stood with his back to the empty fireplace, one hand thrust into his pocket, the other fingering his chin thoughtfully. 'If you marry me I am willing to supply the money for this apartment you mention,' he offered at last.
'Oh…' The relief was overwhelming. 'Thank you so very much.'
'I mentioned that the marriage will be in name only?'
'Of course.' She saw his mouth curve sardonically and realised her colour must have mounted.
'I have no inclination to become emotionally involved either with you or any other woman.'
Kim's head jerked. What a way to talk! Still, as this was a hardheaded bargain on both sides, plain speech could not come amiss. 'I shall be free, then, to lead my own life?' Quite naturally, she had forgotten what kind of a woman she was supposed to be, but the expression that entered his eyes soon reminded her even before he spoke.
'You'll live a chaste life! The change will probably take some getting used to, but, should you do anything to bring one breath of scandal to my name, you'll regret it with every hair of your head!'
'I shan't be bringing any scandal to your name,' she assured him tautly.
'You will remember, too, that my word is law in my own house.'
She said nothing. It would ruin her plan were she to allow her temper full reign at this moment, yet she was simply boiling inside. 'So it's settled, then?' was all she said. The sacrifice was going to be great, but she had no regrets and never would have, no matter what she went through as the wife of Vidas Christou. Her parents' happiness was ensured, and Kim knew a sort of serene resignation towards the part she was to play and the problems she might face before, her confession made, she would be free to leave her husband. And if he should consider himself to have been cheated, then she would pay him back, every penny, no matter how long it took.
'It's settled as far as I am concerned,' he said, breaking into her thoughts.
'You trust me, then? You didn't before.'
'Because I didn't know the money you wanted was for a genuine cause.'
'I could be deceiving you even now.'
'I shall want to meet your parents, naturally,' was his suave and pointed rejoinder. 'Do they know of your condition?'
'I didn't tell them.'
'You spared them the added anxiety?'
'Of course.'
'When can I meet them?'
'This evening, if you like.'
'That will suit admirably.' A smile touched his mouth and Kim stared in fascination. Her pulses were doing strange things, affected as she was by the sheer attractiveness of him, which she had felt now on more than one occasion. She wondered at the reason, since she so intensely disliked the man. 'Aren't your parents going to think it strange when you spring this on them without warning?'
'I've already thought of that. But they knew I was going out with a Greek, and as I never mentioned Dendras's age nor his name, they will naturally believe that you are him.'
His eyes flickered as he asked, 'Didn't you tell them that he was killed?'
'They had enough troubles without worrying unnecessarily about me.'
'You puzzle me,' admitted Vidas after a pause. 'Are you as bad as you appeared, I wonder?'
'I can love my parents and still be the—no-good you have branded me.'
The dark eyes glinted as they swept over her. 'Let me warn you, Kim, that no woman has ever laughed at me. If you are laughing at some joke of your own, then be very careful. My temper's always been unpredictable.'
She said nothing, and after a moment he seemed to forget his little spurt of anger and brought forward the question of their marriage. It would have to be in Malindos, he said, because he could not stay in England for more than a few days at the most.
'Mother will be disappointed.' Kim suddenly felt the prick of tears behind her eyes but valiantly fought them back, determined to think only of her parents and how they would soon be able to get away, into the sunshine, where they would find peace of mind.
'There's one thing,' Vidas was saying. 'I want everyone to believe the child is mine.'
'Everyone?' She stared uncomprehendingly. 'You have many in your family? Dendras said—'
'We have no relatives other than distant ones. I was referring to people in general and to my stepmother in particular. On no account must she ever guess that the child is not mine, understand?'
'Yes, I understand.' She had an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh, simply because there was no child and never would be. In order to regain some modicum of sanity, she forced herself to talk about her parents and the move they would soon be making. 'I do sincerely thank you. It's—it's generous—' In spite of everything she broke down and wept. But almost instantly she was apologising, offering the strain of the past weeks as an excuse.
'It could be strain, partly,' he agreed, 'but I should say it's more likely to be your condition. I believe women can become exceedingly depressed when they are pregnant.'
What had she done? The enormity of it dropped like a ton weight on her shoulders. What would be the end of it all? What was Vidas's stepmother going to think—and say? How could she, Kim, carry off the added deception when the time arrived for her to tell her husband it had been a false alarm? Still, there were many bridges to cross before then, she thought grimly, resigned to gathering some scars along the way.
***
In spite of her confident words to Vidas she did, in fact, expect to encounter difficulties when she told her mother she was getting married. To her surprise and relief, the task proved much simpler than she would ever have imagined. The plain fact was that with so much happening in such a short time, Mrs. Rosswell's mind had become receptive to anything. Naturally she expressed surprise at first, but went on to say that her romance with Kim's father had developed just as suddenly and unexpectedly.
'We were married within two months of our first meeting,' she had more than once told Kim.
'You mentioned the young man but I didn't get the impression that it was serious,' said Mrs. Rosswell, after Kim had done a little more explaining. 'Will you like being married to a foreigner?' she asked. 'And living on an island? It's going to be such a change for you, darling.'
'I know, but I think it is all very wonderful.' Kim acted her part by producing a happy smile.
Had her mother not had such a weight on her mind, she would undoubtedly have shown more interest, but as it was, she merely expressed satisfaction that Kim at least would be away when the scandal broke, in the very near future.
'But you and Father are to be out of it too,' stated Kim, and went on to explain everything. 'Vidas wanted to help,' she went on, still acting her part. 'I said you'd like to go to Spain and he readily offered to buy you an apartment.'
At that, Mrs. Rosswell did show interest, gaping at her daughter as if she dared not believe her own ears. It couldn't be true, she murmured, but Kim assured her that it was.
'Vidas is a very wealthy man, Mother, and he'll never miss the money. He—he is doing it because he—he wants to make me happy.'
'Well, it's still unbelievable,' declared Mrs. Rosswell, too excited to notice that her daughter studiedly avoided her gaze. 'Should I phone my friend and ask if your father and I can go over to stay with her until we find an apartment?'
'Of course. Vidas has made a promise and he can be relied upon to keep it. He's coming to see you both this evening.'
'It's like a miracle!' Mrs. Rosswell exclaimed a short while later as she came away from the phone. 'Marianne, my friend—you remember her?—says there is a very charming apartment in her block and it'll be vacant in a few days. It's for sale and she'll see the agent right away. Meanwhile, she says we can go over whenever we like!' Mrs. Rosswell hugged her daughter, tears dimming her eyes. 'My love, what a dramatic change in our circumstances! And all because you fell in love. Dearest, my one wish is that you will be as happy with your husband as I have been with mine!'
Kim looked away, her face pale; she hoped her mother would not notice her dejection. But she need not have worried; Mrs. Rosswell was so excited and absorbed in the prospect of peace of mind for her husband and herself that she did not even expect Kim to make any response. In fact, she changed the subject abruptly, saying that when the house was sold and the mortgage paid, the small amount left over would pay for any expenses incurred in setting up their new home in Spain.
'I think we shall buy all new furniture,' she declared, 'I'd like to sell almost everything and make a completely fresh start.'
'There's no reason why you shouldn't,' agreed Kim, feeling that her sacrifice had been worthwhile no matter what troubles might later come her way. 'You can leave it all to a house agent, Mother; there won't be any need for you to stay here much longer at all. In fact, it would be a good thing if you went while Father's feeling so much better.'
And it was, in fact, just four days later that Kim and Vidas took her parents to the airport in a taxi and said good-bye to them in the lounge.
'I only wish we could be at your wedding,' said Mrs. Rosswell regretfully. 'But the important thing is to get your father away and settled.' She lifted her face to look at Vidas, and it seemed to Kim that a timeless moment of sincerity passed as they stared into one another's eyes. That Vidas had been impressed by her parents was plain; that he wondered how they had come to have a daughter so lacking in morals and principles was also plain. 'We do thank you, Vidas,' Mrs. Rosswell said, then stopped to let her husband add his own words of gratitude. 'Make our little girl happy, won't you?' she begged finally and turned away, overcome by emotion.
Within an hour Kim and Vidas were back at her home, collecting her luggage, which was ready and standing in the hall. She glanced around, moved automatically to draw a curtain across one particularly sunny window, and then she turned and followed Vidas, securely latching the door behind her.
***
Kim stood before the long mirror of her dressing table, examining her pale face and wondering how she was going to extricate herself from the tangle of her deceit. She had been so obsessed by the idea of ensuring her parents' happiness and peace of mind that certain aspects of her situation had escaped her altogether… until a few minutes ago. Her husband had glanced fleetingly over her figure, and then said, in that urbane, foreign voice she had become used to since her marriage two weeks ago, 'It's time you saw our doctor. You'll need to be under his care from now on. I shall arrange it within the next day or so.'
Her heart lurched, almost seeming to spring from its moorings, and when she spoke, her voice shook with agitated tremors. 'Not yet, Vidas, surely? I feel absolutely fine, and I'm convinced there aren't going to be any complications.'
Breathlessly she waited, only to see him shake his head implacably and to hear him say, 'It's my wish that you be under medical care, Kim. Do not argue with me, understand?'
Meekly, she nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to still the agitation that continued to possess her. She felt that only a miracle could save her from some terrible form of retribution at her husband's hands.
'Yes, Vidas, I understand.' And she had made her escape, almost colliding with Alexandra, Dendras's mother, as she crossed the massive hall and reached the stairs. Alexandra had emerged from the salon to the left of the wide, balustraded stairway, the room being her boudoir, a sacred and inviolate sanctum, which Kim had not yet been permitted to enter.
'Running?' A frown and a lift of Alexandra's arrogant eyebrows followed the words. 'Take care! Remember you are carrying my stepson's child!'
What a woman! Fury left Kim visibly shaking. From the first moment they met, Kim had disliked her intensely. Black-eyed, cold, and distant, she was the most objectionable person Kim had ever had the misfortune to meet. As she had shown no sign of sorrow at her son's death, Kim guessed that if grief did affect her, she would rather die than show it. Her dignity was almost frightening, her acid tongue an instrument whose sting had already discouraged Kim from entering into conversation if it were at all possible to avoid.
As for Vidas's attitude—it was a little better, but he too could be icily cutting at times. Kim had been left in no doubt, right from the start, that she was regarded with contempt for what she had done—or was supposed to have done—and also for what she was: an inferior. Yes, she was unmistakably treated as an inferior, but for all that, she had been accepted, because she was to provide an heir to the Christou wealth.
What a plight she was in! She almost wished she were having Dendras's child. It would certainly solve all her problems! If only she had made her admission before Vidas mentioned the doctor. Although she tried to muster up the courage on a couple of occasions, she had shirked the ordeal, and to do it now must look so suspicious that Vidas would be sure to accuse her of having been lying in the first place. Feeling totally unable to cope with the problem, she actually succeeded in thrusting it temporarily from her mind, and moving away from the large, gilt-embellished dressing table, she went to the wardrobe to look for a suitable gown for this evening. Vidas had brought a dressmaker up to the castle and Kim had been measured for dresses, skirts, and blouses. No slacks. She would not be wearing slacks, Vidas had stated, and she did not trouble to ask whether this rule held permanently or just while she was in her present 'condition.'
After making her choice, she laid the dress on the bed, her pensive gaze fixed on the high, richly carved door, the door that led into her husband's suite of sitting room, bedroom, dressing room and bathroom. She had been in it once, venturing a quick look when she knew that Vidas was not in the house. Like her own suite, it possessed the mellowed quality that pervaded the whole vast edifice. The walls were hung with tapestries; the drapes were rich crimson Italian brocatelle; the thickly luxurious carpets spread from wall to wall. The high ceiling of the sitting room was of a geometric design, lavishly embellished with gold leaf; the white marble fireplace flaunted the arms of an illustrious Italian house, testimony to its origin in some mansion that particular family once owned. There was a superb writing table set in the deep window, its matching cartonnier close by. The black lacquer bookcase was filled with leather-bound volumes—priceless editions, Kim surmised. The rest of the elegant furnishings were all antique, the two tables gleaming with the patina of age, the sofa and chairs upholstered in French tapestry, multicoloured but subdued.
As it was too early to bathe and change, she decided to go for a walk on the beach, a favourite place since the day she discovered the lonely cove backed by palms and plane trees, which provided welcome shade from the fierce Grecian sun. Here she could relax, away from the castle and the people in it; here she could be alone with her thoughts.
