A Secret Rebellion Read online

  The room in which they were presently standing far surpassed anything they had seen so far, however. Unfurnished, it would have made a reasonable ballroom; furnished, it resembled nothing so much as a room in the British Museum.

  Though that was hardly fair, Beth admitted, aware that this salon was essentially Mediterranean in design. Although it possessed an abundance of old and evidently valued items, its high ceiling and Moorish arches were definitely created for a warmer climate.

  And it had obviously been designed for entertaining, too. Between inlaid cabinets and bronze statuary, there were plenty of comfortable chairs and sofas, set about in groups to promote a sociable ambience. There were flowers, too, spilling from traditional Greek urns, and delicate occasional tables, on fragile, hand-carved stems.

  But it was the vivid colours that impressed Beth most, colours picked out in embroidered cushions and jewel-bright carpets. The white walls were studded with pictures and icons which mirrored this brilliance. Even the flowers were rich and exotic, their bright, waxy petals like blood against the stone.

  For, like all the Greek houses Beth had ever seen, the villa was built of stone, both for warmth and coolness. In winter, when the cold winds blew down from northern Europe, she guessed it would be warm and cosy, and now, in summer, its thick walls were a protection from the heat. It had surprised her that Alex’s father hadn’t had an air-conditioning system installed, but the villa had evidently been built before such refinements were available.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ she murmured in Linda’s ear, and the younger woman gave her a wry look.

  ‘If you like this sort of thing,’ she conceded, wrapping her arms across her midriff, and giving the room only a cursory glance. ‘Where do you think they are?’

  ‘They?’ Beth frowned. ‘Oh, you mean Mr Thiarchos and his father.’

  ‘Who else?’ Linda spoke carelessly, but Beth knew she was not at all relaxed about this meeting.

  ‘Well—’ Beth trod across an exquisitely woven Turkish carpet ‘—maybe he hasn’t come back yet. The older Mr Thiarchos, I mean. He could still be in Athens.’

  It was her own wish, she realised, but Linda doused it. ‘I heard a car,’ she declared depressingly, following Beth across to the windows. Beyond the lamplit room, a flower-strewn courtyard was floodlit to reveal another tinkling fountain. ‘Who else could it have been?’ She shivered, as a huge moth threw itself at the glass. ‘Ugh, I hate those things!’

  ‘They’re harmless enough,’ said Beth reassuringly, wishing the moth were all they had to deal with. ‘Look, it’s pretty really. Can you see the colours in its wings?’

  ‘Too well,’ said Linda, pushing her hands into her trouser pockets and turning away. ‘Oh, God! Why don’t they come and get it over with?’

  The sound of approaching footsteps had her freezing where she stood, however, and Beth automatically moved closer to her, although whether for Linda’s sake or her own she couldn’t be certain. In any event, they presented a united front as a man who couldn’t be anyone else but Alex’s father strode into the room. He wasn’t as tall, and he was decidedly younger than she had expected, but his features were a broader—and perhaps a little swarthier—version of his son’s.

  ‘Ah, you are here!’ he exclaimed, coming towards them with a smile on his lips and his hands outstretched. His eyes flickered briefly over Beth, before settling on the younger woman’s face. ‘You must be Linda,’ he averred, and Linda, who had drawn her hands out of her pockets at his approach, had them taken in a determined clasp, and a kiss bestowed on either cheek. ‘Welcome to Greece!’

  ‘Thank you.’ Linda’s swallow was convulsive.

  ‘It is my regret that you must come here in such unhappy circumstances,’ he added, holding on to her hands, and searching her face with his dark compelling eyes. ‘Please know that I share your grief.’

  His sympathy didn’t reach his eyes, Beth noticed, with a certain tightening of her stomach. She had the feeling that this whole charade was being enacted for someone else’s benefit, and she was hardly surprised to see Alex Thiarchos watching them from the arched doorway. Unlike his father, he was not wearing a dinner-jacket. As a concession to the heat, perhaps, he was wearing a loose silk shirt, and his dark skin contrasted sharply with the white fabric. His appearance never failed to disconcert her, and it took an actual effort to concentrate on what Linda was saying.

  ‘You’re very kind.’

  Linda’s voice trembled, and her nervousness was obvious. Beth guessed she had not expected this kind of a welcome from a man she had been led to believe had opposed her relationship with Tony, and she thought how clever it was of Constantine Thiarchos to take the initiative from her. Already, Linda was beginning to question the image she had formed of Tony’s grandfather, and wonder whether the description she had been given of him had been totally unbiased.

  ‘And you must be—Miss Haley.’ No one could accuse Constantine Thiarchos of neglecting his manners, but Beth felt herself stiffening with instinctive dislike. It was hard to remember that this was her child’s grandfather, too. A blood relation already, although he was unaware of it. ‘It was thoughtful of you to give up your time to accompany my granddaughter-in-law. I am sure she appreciates your concern.’ He paused. ‘As I do, of course.’

  But he didn’t. Beth knew that, just as she knew he resented her being here. He was looking at her with cold grey eyes that were so like, yet unlike, his son’s. He was letting her see his displeasure. What did he hope? That she’d turn around and leave? If only she could.

  ‘I’m afraid it was your son’s idea,’ she declared coolly, not prepared to allow this man to think, even for a moment, that she had wanted to come here. Aware that Alex was watching her now, she gave an unconsciously defiant shrug of her shoulders. ‘I hadn’t planned on coming to Greece, Mr Thiarchos. It’s a little hot for me at this time of the year. But how could I refuse?’

  Constantine’s mouth tightened. ‘But surely, Miss Haley, an unexpected trip to the Levant cannot have been entirely unwelcome.’

  ‘I didn’t say it was unwelcome—just a little inconvenient, that’s all,’ she responded pleasantly, conscious now of Linda’s horrified expression. ‘I’m sure you understand, Mr Thiarchos.’ She thought of his grandson’s funeral that he hadn’t attended. ‘We can’t always do what we want to do, can we?’

  Constantine’s lips thinned. ‘Evidently not,’ he conceded, in a harsh tone. Then, turning back to the less demanding needs of his daughter-in-law, he gestured towards the cabinet, which one of the servants had come in and opened during his altercation with Beth. ‘Come, let me offer you an aperitif, my dear. A little retsina, maybe. Have you tried our local wine? It is flavoured with the resin from pine trees, you know.’ He tipped his head from side to side. ‘It is our best known vintage, but perhaps an acquired taste. We will see.’

  Linda went with him willingly, evidently afraid that Beth might say something else to embarrass her, and Alex moved swiftly to take her place. ‘Bravo,’ he said, skimming the back of Beth’s neck with a teasing finger. ‘It’s not often my father is forced to back down.’

  Beth flinched at his touch. His lean fingers felt so possessive, somehow, and she was intensely conscious of his nearness. She could smell the soap he had used, mingling with the male scent of his body. And knew a crazy impulse to move closer to him, and the cynical protection he afforded.

  ‘He didn’t back down,’ she contradicted him tautly, as eyes considerably warmer than his father’s surveyed her heated face. ‘He just decided not to pursue it, that’s all. He was probably considering Linda’s feelings.’

  ‘My father doesn’t consider anyone’s feelings but his own,’ retorted Alex softly. ‘Don’t underestimate yourself. The old man didn’t like having his opinion questioned.’

  ‘Then I probably shouldn’t have done it,’ said Beth uneasily, glancing across to where Linda was happily tasting the wine she had been given. ‘This isn’t my problem
. Your father’s right. I shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘I wanted you here.’ Alex’s breath fanned the pale skin exposed by the scoop neckline of her dress. ‘Did I tell you, you look beautiful? You’ve put on a little weight. It suits you.’

  Beth’s breath faltered. ‘Please—’

  ‘Please what?’ His eyes mocked her quivering confusion, and she had to force herself not to check the tightness of the dress. Behind her back, his hand slid possessively over the swell of her hips, trailing down to her thigh without his father’s being aware of it. ‘Do you have any idea what you do to me? God, when I’m with you, I feel like a raw youth, hot and—’

  ‘Would you like to try the retsina, Miss Haley?’

  Beth had never thought she would be glad to hear Constantine Thiarchos’s voice, but she was. Moving jerkily perhaps, but determinedly just the same, she crossed the room to where Linda and her grandfather-in-law were standing. ‘Um—perhaps. Just a little,’ she agreed, shivering when Alex came to stand beside her. ‘This—this is quite a place, Mr Thiarchos. Do you live here all year long?’

  Constantine looked as if he was surprised by her friendly tone, but he was sufficiently diplomatic not to mention it. ‘Whenever I can,’ he conceded, handing her a glass of the strongly scented wine, and watching her taste it with a speculative eye. ‘I have a house in Athens, of course, and in various other capitals of the world, where I can entertain, when necessary. But the Villa Vouliari is my home, my spiritual home, if you like. I was born here, Miss Haley, just as my father was before me. And my sons were born here, and their sons, too. Each succeeding generation. It is—what do you call it?—a tradition.’

  ‘I see.’

  For a moment, even the awareness of Alex’s thigh, brushing the hem of her skirt, lost its threat. He was telling her that, for the last goodness knew how many years, every Thiarchos offspring had been born here. But not her child, she thought unsteadily. He didn’t know it, but she was going to break the tradition.

  ‘You don’t approve, Miss Haley?’

  He was intuitive. She’d give him that. Even that slight crack in her resistance had been noticed, and she knew she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes while Constantine Thiarchos was around.

  ‘On the contrary,’ she replied, taking refuge behind her glass, and wishing she hadn’t drawn attention to herself in that way. ‘I think it sounds rather—feudal.’

  ‘It is,’ remarked Alex lazily, and his eyes probing the uncertainty of hers were blatantly sensual. But only she was aware of it, she thought wildly, struggling to regain the composure that seemed to have deserted her. ‘My father likes to think he has the right of tenure over all our lives.’ His head lifted. ‘Isn’t that right, Papa?’

  Constantine’s mouth thinned. ‘I do not think Linda wishes to hear your opinion on this matter, Alexander.’ He transferred his dark gaze to the young woman beside him. ‘My son enjoys mocking me, my dear.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Alex’s tone was less indulgent now. ‘I’m merely warning my daughter-in-law of your tendency to try and control people, Papa.’ He looked at Linda now. ‘Like many predators, my father is most dangerous when he is being kind. Once he has found your weakness, beware!’

  ‘Oh, Mr Thiarchos!’

  It was obvious Linda hadn’t the faintest idea how to respond to this, and Beth decided that, despite her own misgivings, she was glad she was here.

  ‘I think you’re exaggerating, Mr Thiarchos,’ she declared, addressing herself to Alex deliberately. ‘I’m sure your father isn’t half as frightening as you’re pretending. He seems fairly tame to me.’ Which was throwing down the gauntlet with a vengeance, she thought apprehensively, but at least it diverted their attention from Linda.

  And, as luck would have it, the maid appeared at that moment, to announce that their meal was waiting. Or, at least, that was Beth’s interpretation of her words, confirmed by Constantine Thiarchos’s proposal that they all adjourn to the dining salon. But his eyes flickered somewhat coldly over her pale face as he made the suggestion, and she guessed he would not forget what he would consider a thinly veiled insult.

  The dining salon adjoined the living-room, another long, expansive room, with a huge refectory table, which looked as if it might once have served a monastery. It was heavily carved, and so solidly built that Beth imagined it would take a whole army of servants to move it. But tonight, set with shining silver and crystal, decorated with waxy white magnolias and trailing ferns, and lit by tall scented candles, it flouted any relevance to the past.

  Because the table was so long, places had been set at only one end. Constantine Thiarchos occupied the high-backed chair at the end, of course, with Alex and Linda facing one another on his right and left hand respectively, and Beth facing an empty chair, a little further along. A less arrogant host might have arranged things differently, she reflected, a little drily, but she was the outsider here, and she wasn’t going to be allowed to forget it.

  The meal, however, was delicious. And although she hadn’t expected to be able to eat anything Beth found herself emptying her plate. She was hungry, that was all, she told herself, as she swallowed the last morsel of the souvlaki, which was pork, spit-roasted, and served with savoury rice and vegetables. And perhaps she was eating to compensate for her nerves. It had nothing to do with her condition, she insisted, as she touched the faint swelling at her waist.

  ‘Too much?’

  Alex’s lazy enquiry had her pressing guilty hands against her knees. ‘I beg your—?’

  ‘I thought you were feeling sick,’ he broke in easily. ‘You rubbed your stomach. Greek food can be a little rich for western European tastes.’

  ‘Oh, no.’

  Beth’s face was flushed with colour, but at least Linda and his father didn’t appear to have noticed. They were discussing the merits of the wine, and the fact that the Thiarchos corporation owned vineyards in another part of Attica. It seemed an innocuous conversation, but Beth had been wondering if Alex’s warning had been so far-fetched, after all. For some reason, Constantine was endeavouring to gain the girl’s confidence, and from what Beth could hear he was succeeding.

  ‘You’ve eaten Greek food before?’ Alex lifted his glass to the light, and Beth was briefly dazzled by the glow. ‘I never asked. Have you been to Greece before?’

  Beth swallowed. ‘Once,’ she conceded reluctantly, curiously loath to discuss anything about her past with him, and Alex frowned.

  ‘When? Where did you stay?’

  ‘It was years ago,’ said Beth dismissively. ‘When I was a child. We stayed in Thebes.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘My father and—and my sister and myself.’

  ‘You have a sister?’

  Beth took a breath. ‘Not any more.’

  ‘What do you mean, not any more?’ Alex rested his elbows on the table and regarded her intently.

  ‘She’s dead,’ said Beth shortly.

  Alex frowned. ‘An accident?’

  ‘I—yes. Yes, an accident.’

  Her hesitation was a mistake. ‘Not an accident, then,’ he interpreted correctly. ‘She was ill?’

  Beth sighed. ‘If you must know, she died of an overdose.’

  Alex’s dark eyes widened. ‘I see.’

  ‘Do you?’ Conversely, Beth wanted to tell him the truth now. ‘My sister wasn’t an addict, Mr Thiarchos. She was injured, badly injured, in a plane crash. She suffered a lot of pain before she died.’ And not just physical pain, she added silently. Joy had lost more than her looks in those months before she died.

  Alex lifted his shoulders now. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Beth bent her head. ‘It happened a long time ago.’

  ‘A long—but she was your sister!’

  ‘We had different mothers,’ said Beth unwillingly. ‘Joy was twelve years older than me.’

  ‘And how old were you when she died?’

  Beth hesitated. ‘Fifteen.’

  Alex regarded her
gently. ‘But you still miss her.’

  Unexpectedly, Beth felt the prick of tears behind her eyes. It was so long since she had spoken of Joy with anyone. Her father had spent the last years of his life too wrapped up in his own bitterness to care.

  But it reminded her of her own sworn intention never to give any man that kind of hold over her, and, flicking a careless finger beneath her nose, she summoned a bright smile.

  ‘Sometimes,’ she said, with a look in her eyes that warned him not to pursue it. She lifted her glass to him in a mocking salute. ‘To life, hmm? In all its endless variety!’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BETH sat on a cushioned stool at the mirrored dressing-table, slowly tugging a brush through her hair. The action of the bristles against her scalp always had a therapeutic effect, and the tight band that had encircled her temples when she first came into the room was gradually beginning to ease.

  But it had not been an easy evening, she thought, leaning towards her reflection, to examine the pale blue shadows that had appeared beneath her eyes. What with keeping a surreptitious eye on Constantine Thiarchos on one hand, and parrying his son’s remarks on the other, she felt as if she had suffered a baptism of fire.

  And it wasn’t nearly over yet. Linda had informed her, on their way to bed, that Tony’s grandfather had suggested they stay for a week, not just the couple of days they had originally intended. His proposal was that Linda should take the opportunity to familiarise herself with the area, have an impromptu holiday, indeed. As well as getting to know the family better, she had added. Apparently, Alex’s brother, George, and his wife, were due at the end of the week. Perhaps she owed it to Tony’s memory to substantiate their marriage.

  Which wasn’t what she had said before she left England. But, when Beth attempted to remind her of that, Linda had revealed a totally unexpected side to her nature. ‘You embarrassed me tonight,’ she declared, hands balled into fists in her pockets, head thrown back to demonstrate her resentment. ‘I don’t know what you thought you were doing, practically accusing Tony’s father of forcing you to come here! And arguing with Tony’s grandfather over it. God, I didn’t know where to look! These are my relations, Beth. I may not have wanted to meet them, but I certainly don’t want to hurt them. Not when they’ve been so nice. And it was kind of them to let you come, too. I mean, they don’t know you at all. I think you should appreciate it.’