Strangers May Marry Page 4

  'Nothing, when you don't know where she is.' Leaning forward in his chair, Paul took up his glass and put it to his lips. 'If I were you,' he advised, 'I'd concentrate on what you came for—finding the father of this child you want to get rid of.'

  'I don't want to get rid of her,' she protested, anger bringing colour to her cheeks, which he noticed, and lifted an arrogant eyebrow. 'Can we get back to the question of my sister, please? I'm not leaving her to her fate, as you seem to be suggesting.'

  His blue eyes narrowed. 'The affair, Miss Hudson,' he began tersely, 'has little or nothing to do with me. I merely advised.' He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 'Take the advice or leave it. I assure you it is immaterial to me what you decide to do.'

  Laura bit her lip, conscious of having vexed him— this when she needed his help, desperately, for she had no one else to turn to. If only Phil had come with her! How she longed for his assistance, his smooth and logical method of tackling problems. She looked at the Greek, saw the taut jaw, and felt an apology would be wise.

  'I'm sorry if I appeared sharp, Mr. Penalis. I've only the worry as an excuse.' Her eyes were wide and limpid as they met his, and the hand holding the glass was shaking. 'I—I don't know where to begin.'

  He was frowning thoughtfully and several seconds elapsed before he said, 'You could go to the police, of course, but I might as well warn you that, should they act and find your sister, then her safety would certainly be at stake. You have to keep in mind that at this very moment there are people looking for your sister and the man she has run off with… people whose sole interest in their whereabouts is revenge.'

  Laura's heart gave a lurch and all colour drained from her face. 'You—frighten me,' she stammered. 'Surely I—I can do something!'

  'I'm sorry if I frighten you, Miss Hudson.' He stopped and stared directly at her. 'If you haven't had any communication with your sister in over four and a half years, then frankly, I don't understand your anxiety.'

  'You mean…' She stared and frowned. 'You're suggesting that, because we've never been close, I should abandon her—just shrug my shoulders and leave her to her fate?' Laura's eyes were disbelieving.

  'There happens to be one thing you have overlooked. Your sister would not thank you for any investigations you might make which could result in her being vulnerable to these people of whom I've just spoken. At present she's reasonably safe, because she and this man are in hiding, but woe betide them both if ever the brothers Gavezas get hold of them.'

  'Gavezas? These are the—well, the avengers?'

  'Would-be avengers, yes. Their father's formidable enough but his two sons are held in awe on this part of the island, where they rule their estate with little consideration for those who work for them. However, don't let me mislead you. The family are not barbarians. They are what they are—believers in the vendetta that is, an eye for an eye.'

  'Have they been revenged on people before?' enquired Laura, diverted for the moment by her interest in what she was learning.

  'To my knowledge no one has been foolish enough to run any risks,' was his grim rejoinder as he rose from his chair to refill his glass. He had glanced at hers first and found its contents little different from when he had given her the drink. 'Getting back to your original reason for being here,' he said over his shoulder, 'I should take my advice and concentrate on finding the child's father. That appears to be the more pressing business as far as I can see.'

  She stared at his broad back, her face white, her eyes shadowed with fear. Irene had never been brave, and any kind of pain had driven her crazy. If she were to find herself in the clutches of these men, she would die of fear before they even touched her.

  The Greek turned, his eyes all-discerning as they flicked over her, taking in everything else besides her expression and the uncontrolled quiver of her lips.

  'If I could get the police to smuggle her out of the country,' she began, but stopped on noting his expression.

  'Aren't you taking a lot for granted?' he put in quietly. 'You've said enough to convince me that your sister can be obstinate, and obviously she's wilful. Is she going to leave the country just because you say she must?'

  'Does she know the danger she's in?'

  'I should think she has some idea. The man she's run off with certainly will be aware of the reprisals which could take place, but whether he's told your sister of it is something neither you nor I can guess.'

  'I'll bet he hasn't.' Laura's voice was emphatic. 'Irene's always been…' She tailed off, looking for the word she wanted. Her companion proffered the word she had almost used before stopping herself.

  'A coward?' A sneer lifted one corner of his mouth. 'She seems a thoroughly unlikable woman and I can't see why you should be troubling yourself about her. Yes, leave her to her fate is my recommendation. Concentrate on what you came here for—'

  'How can I?' she broke in desperately. 'My sister's in danger!'

  'I reckon she'll be wily enough to escape,' he returned indifferently.

  'In any case,' went on Laura, bypassing what he had said, 'how can I begin looking for Mandy's father when I have Mandy herself to look after? I'd promised to give her a holiday whichever way things went—that is, whether or not her father was willing to have her. She was expecting to go on to the beach and—and play…' Tears filled her eyes and her throat felt blocked. She swallowed convulsively, lips trembling. And when she eventually glanced up it was to see the most odd expression on her companion's face. His eyes were focused on her; he seemed to be profoundly moved now and she could only stare, bewildered and—for some inexplicable reason—faintly uneasy.

  She said, without knowing why, 'Do you like this Gavezas family?'

  'I have business dealings with the father—Spiros. Yes, I like him—'

  'The sons, though?' she cut in urgently.

  'I'd not trust either of them in a case like the one you are concerned by. They could be merciless.'

  'You're not sparing me, are you?'

  'I never believe in deliberately misleading people, or in keeping them in ignorance of something they ought to know.' Again he was indifferent. She watched his fingers—lean long fingers—moving lightly on the stem of his glass. She wondered if he were becoming bored and was regretting his invitation for her to stay for dinner. Her first instinct was to say she would leave at once, but she needed his help. She had to do something about saving Irene from her own folly.

  'There's some way you can help me,' she began. 'This man's wife—can she give me a clue to where her husband might have gone?'

  His brows lifted a fraction. 'My dear girl,' he said with a hint of asperity, 'if Giorgia knew, she'd most certainly tell her brothers.'

  Laura looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. 'To be so helpless…' she murmured.

  'You ought to resign yourself that there isn't anything you can possibly do. Your sister could be anywhere; you don't even know if she's on this island.'

  'You seem to think she is.'

  'Did I give that impression? Well, I'm as ignorant as you, so if I did give the impression that I believed she was still here, then it was unintentional.' He put his glass to his lips, then took it away again without taking a drink. He was thoughtful again, and shaking his head. 'It's very clear to me, Miss Hudson, that you've plenty of troubles of your own without involving yourself in any more. You've said you can't look for Joseph because you have his child on your hands.'

  'That's right.' Tears were close but she knew she would feel exceedingly foolish if she allowed this man to see her indulge in the feminine weakness of crying. 'We shall have to think of something,' he decided, but as his manservant appeared to tell him dinner was ready, Laura had to contain her impatience for a little while.

  Chapter Three

  Laura had surprised herself by the admission that she was hungry, and she was to surprise herself even more by the hearty meal she made. The first course was a delicious seafood cocktail, which was eaten in near silence even tho
ugh she wanted to learn more about Pavlos Penalis's idea—for she was certain that he already did have an idea for helping her. That it was strange never entered her head; not for one moment did she suspect him of any personal motivation.

  The next course was baby lamb cooked Greek style, on a charcoal grill. It came in pieces, skewered tightly together, and with it were several different vegetables. It was when the meal was on their plates and the servant had left that Mr. Penalis said coolly, and with the confidence of one whose word is always adhered to, 'You must bring the little girl here, where there are several girls who will take care of her while you are making your enquiries.'

  She stared, her knife and fork idle in her hands. 'Bring her here. You—you mean to—to stay?'

  'Yes; you must both move in. Hotels are not the thing for children anyway. Here Mandy will have the freedom of the grounds, and if she wants to go to the beach and you aren't free to take her, then either Lefki or Julia will be only too happy to take her, and to play with her.'

  'She can be a handful sometimes.' Laura felt foolish, saying a thing like that, but she was so staggered by the proposal that she was lost for words.

  'I daresay the girls will cope. There's Pelaya, too. But she comes in daily. I believe she has three small sisters, so she'll be able to manage if the others find the child difficult.'

  So calm! Planning her stay here without even asking if this was what she wanted. But the next moment Laura was sending him a grateful glance, and a smile fluttered to her lips. His vivid blue eyes held hers, but there was nothing to be read from their expression.

  'You're very kind to offer me this way out of my difficulty, Mr. Penalis,' she said quietly. 'Mandy won't be difficult—she's a sweet little girl. I misled you when I said she can be a handful. She's never disobedient, but sometimes more than ordinarily mischievous. She's never had a father, you see, and I tend to spoil her a little—and so did my mother.' Her voice held a trace of self-deprecation but her eyes were dreamy, as if she were diverting her mind from troublesome thoughts to many happy recollections. And because she was not looking at the man opposite to her, she missed the change of expression, the softening of the eyes, the relaxing of the mouth, the movement of a nerve at the side of his throat. Nor did she hear him catch his breath…

  When next he spoke, it was in the same authoritative tone of voice, a voice tinged with the accent which Laura was finding exceedingly attractive.

  'I shall be over at the hotel myself tomorrow morning at about ten o'clock. Try to be packed and ready to move.'

  She found herself saying, with a meekness which would surely have surprised Phil, 'I'll be ready, Mr. Penalis. And thank you again for such a kind offer.'

  He said nothing; his mind seemed to be working on something which she suddenly wished she could discover. He wore a faraway look which had a baffling effect on her and she frowned, unable to fathom her own emotions. Her eyes were fixed on his face, and she was once again conscious of the masculine perfection of every single feature, conscious too of the difference in them from those of the average Greek. And without thinking she found herself saying, 'All the Greeks I've seen are dark—' And then she stopped abruptly, fearing he would consider her observation an impertinence because of its meaning. To her relief he smiled faintly and told her that as they had had many invasions here in Crete, she would find various types.

  'You'll see Greeks typical of those on the mainland,' he went on after a slight pause. 'And some of the Nordic types of which I happen to be one; there are several others, depending on their origin in the West or the East.'

  'I see… it's interesting.' She spoke rather lamely because she felt she ought to have been able to find something less commonplace to say.

  'Anthropology is always interesting, as are the changes due to environment.'

  She nodded in agreement and heard herself say, 'I feel that adaptation to environment is one of the mysteries of our world, and one of its wonders.'

  'You have animals in mind, mainly.' It was a statement on which Laura made- no comment and he continued, 'Sadly, Man continues to destroy habitats, causing animals either to begin again or perish, become extinct.' He glanced at her and she sensed the question in his eyes: was the conversation becoming too deep for her? And because she had studied geomorphology, she brought her favourite subject into it.

  'Man can certainly affect the ecology, especially of, say, a stream or a lake, and then animals and fish and even birds suffer and eventually become so scarce that they have to be protected.' Her lovely eyes met his across the candlelit table, eyes wide and faintly sad… and to the man sitting there, the aristocratic Greek with the Nordic features, there was something so engaging about her that he found himself thinking of all the women he had had, and seeking in his memory for a comparison. There was none. This girl was—in his experience—unique.

  The silence stretched and it seemed that tension charged the atmosphere between them. Strange new emotions stirred Laura's senses; it was like waking up, dazedly, in unfamiliar surroundings. She seemed to be groping for the established, the recognizable, and found herself determinedly processing her mind to bringing Phil's face before her mental vision.

  Her companion's voice reached her softly. 'You're a most interesting and intelligent young lady.' He paused, to smile at her sudden blush. 'You didn't tell me what you do for a living.'

  'I work for an interior designer.' Automatically she glanced around the room, profoundly aware of the inner relief at this interruption of the wordless, prolonged silence which had such a nerve-stretching effect on her.

  'So you look upon your surroundings with a critical eye.' His voice was edged with humour but in his eyes was the challenge she had half expected.

  'I think this room is beautiful,' she replied simply. 'And the other room as well.'

  'My mother helped when, after my father died, I decided to renovate and refurnish the home.'

  'Your mother didn't mind the changes? I mean— most older people become attached to what is familiar.'

  'Mother was moving out; she had always wanted a smaller house.'

  'She's still living?'

  He shook his head. 'She died four years ago.'

  Laura hesitated before asking her next question; she was afraid of being considered far too curious about things which could not possibly concern her.

  However, she did put the question and his answer was, 'No, I have no other close relatives—just many cousins, which is usual with Greeks since they have such large families.' He paused and when he spoke again his voice had a faintly mocking inflection which hurt Laura in some quite incomprehensible way. 'I'm not married, if that was what you really wanted to know.'

  Colour rushed to her cheeks. 'That wasn't what I was asking, Mr. Penalis. I had guessed you weren't married, but in any case it is no concern of mine.'

  A different manservant came into the room, quietly and unobtrusively, and took away the dinner plates.

  'The sweet is poached bananas,' said the man whose name—Laura was told afterwards—was Demetrius.

  'For you, madam?'

  'Yes, please?' She looked at her host with a question in her eyes. 'I haven't had poached bananas before.'

  'You'll like them. An added attraction for me is that as we grow the bananas here, they are on the plate less than an hour after they've been picked.'

  The bananas had been poached in wine and lemon juice with added nutmeg and cinnamon. Then they had been liberally covered with flaked almonds and then flamed after rum had been poured over them. They were served with fresh cream and a small amount of ice cream. Laura had never tasted anything so delicious and she readily confessed it to her smiling host.

  'I rather thought you would enjoy that particular dessert,' he returned. 'I'm glad it was on the menu tonight.' He glanced at her plate. 'And now we shall take our coffee in the salon and have a serious talk about your problems.'

  The following morning, true to his word, Mr. Penalis was at the hotel with his
car, a luxurious low-slung limousine at the sight of which Mandy's eyes shone.

  'It's even better than Uncle Phil's!' she exclaimed. 'Can I ride in the front, please, Auntie Laura?'

  Laura shook her head and frowned. She said quietly, 'Mandy, this is the gentleman I told you about. His name is Mr. Penalis.'

  'Oh, that's a funny name!'

  'No, it isn't,' began Laura uncomfortably. 'It's a Greek name—you know we're in Greece and so names will be different from ours. Now, get into the back of the car and sit quietly until we arrive at Mr. Penalis's house…'Her voice trailed away to a puzzled silence as she caught the Greek's expression. 'Is—is something wrong?' she asked a little anxiously.

  'Nothing wrong,' he answered, his eyes still on the child, who was looking up at him from her tiny height, her small white shoulder bag in her hands. 'But she's the image of her father. Never have I seen such a remarkable likeness.' He turned to Laura. 'He'll certainly not be able to deny she is his,' he added with some amusement.

  'I've never met him, of course.' She turned to see the hotel porter bringing out the luggage.

  He was relieved of it and given a tip, for which he grinned delightedly and said in very broken English, 'Manys thank yous!' And then he added, 'Efharisto poli!'

  'Ooh! What does that mean?' Mandy wanted to know.

  'Thank you very much.'

  'I'll say it next time!'

  'In you go,' ordered Pavlos Penalis, giving her a tap on the backside. 'The backseat.'

  'Yes, all right.' Her chubby face was wreathed in smiles.

  Laura thought ruefully of something her mother had once said. 'That child loves men already! Heaven knows what she'll be like when she grows up.'

  Yes, Mandy had always taken to men. And, it had seemed, there had grown up a rather special rapport between her and Phil, and because of it Laura had had no qualms about his accepting her.

  'Something worrying you?' The question came as she stepped into the car. Mr. Penalis was standing with the door open and she'd had to pass close. 'Those eyes of yours are most revealing.'