Man Without Honour Read online

  'You don't seem very sure.' He sent her a sidelong glance from under his dark brows. She sensed his knowledge of the way she felt about him, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  'I'm not very sure,' she was honest enough to admit. 'You see, Leon, this has been so wonderful that… that… well, I m-might not…' Again her voice trailed away to nothing, the reason this time being the blockage in her throat. Her emotions were physically painful, and suddenly she wished she had never met Leon, had never experienced the wonder of this holiday… or the experience of love.

  'I think,' said Leon, 'that I ought to take you to a cafe and get you a drink.'

  She managed a smile then, and shook her head. 'I don't want a drink, thank you.'

  'What do you want, Kathryn?'

  'I don't know.' She lapsed into silence, and it was the voice of one of the guides that broke into her thoughts, and she found herself listening.

  'The theatre here at Epidaurus is the most perfect and best preserved in the whole of Greece…' Kathryn heard no more, as Leon, holding her hand, was walking away. He disliked guides and tourists and always steered clear of them if it was at all possible. Nevertheless, they spent over three hours on the site, and Kathryn, trying to concentrate, heard Leon say that the cult here had been that of Asclepius, god of medicine, whose fame spread to Athens and other places, including the island of Cos. When at last they were coming away, Leon asked Kathryn if she had enjoyed it.

  'Very much,' she answered truthfully. But she thought that now another day was more than half gone, and she could not help it if the tears gathered behind her eyes, could not be cold and philosophic about the holiday, telling herself that it was ridiculous for her to have supposed that something serious might come of it.

  Thousands of couples met on holiday, enjoyed each other's company, then said good-bye at the end. She told herself again that she'd been foolish in the extreme. She ought to have guarded right at the start against falling in love with Leon.

  But, she thought with a quivering sigh, love just comes, and you have no control, no armour with which to protect yourself against the dagger-points that pierce your heart.

  In spite of Kathryn's adamant attitude over the ring, Leon had asked her twice more to sell it to him. As they left Epidaurus, he asked her yet again, and this time there seemed to be an urgency about him that increased the puzzlement which had been growing upon her with his persistence. She had been so definite, so immovable, and yet he still tried to persuade her to let him have the ring.

  'No,' she said determinedly when, having got into the car and pressed the starter, Leon turned to Kathryn and made another request that she sell him the ring. 'I can't think why you keep on asking me!' There was a trace of censure not unmixed with complaint in her voice, because each time this question arose, it caused a certain friction to enter into their relationship. 'You will never get it from me, so that's that!' It was the first time she had spoken sharply to him, and she could have wept as soon as the words were uttered. She saw his eyes harden, his lips become tight. He was angry—in fact, she had the impression that he was furiously angry, but he was managing to hide his anger, at least for the most part.

  Nevertheless, his voice was curt and tinged with arrogance when he spoke. 'I should have thought, Kathryn, that you'd have sold it to me, if only as a gesture. It would remind me of this holiday—'

  'You need reminding, then?' she could not help asking, the tears forming a cloud behind her eyes that hurt abominably.

  'No, of course not, but it would be nice if I had the ring…' He stopped, brought to a halt because she had her head turned away.

  Should she let him have it? She would never take any money for it, no matter what it was worth… but she could give it to him… But no! Within seconds of that moment of indecision her resolve was as strong as ever. Why should she let him have the ring? He had enjoyed a flirtation with her; it was ended now, having meant nothing—absolutely nothing—to him, so was there any valid reason why she should give him the ring?

  'No,' she said again, 'I shall never part with it!' Her wording was wrong. However, it didn't matter; all she wanted was to convince him, once and for all, that he would never get the ring from her.

  Leon fell silent, and remained so all the way back to Nauplia. He drove into the grounds of the Hermes, but instead of telling Kathryn to collect her bathing suit while he went up for his trunks, he said stiffly, 'I don't feel like going to the beach today, Kathryn. I'll see you at dinner.'

  Hurt by his coldness, and afraid she might show it, she sought refuge in pride. 'That's fine, Leon. I don't feel like going to the beach, either. I haven't had much opportunity for reading up till now, so I'll relax in my room with the book I brought with me.'

  But once in her bedroom, the front she had put on collapsed and she shed a few tears of disappointment at not being with Leon this afternoon. It was the first time he had not eagerly sought her company, and she wondered if it really was because she wouldn't sell him the ring. It did not seem feasible that he'd react in this way, and after thinking about it for a while, Kathryn had almost convinced herself that Leon had got tired of her, in which case, she thought, he must be glad that her holiday was drawing to its close.

  At dinner Leon was preoccupied but not unfriendly, and Kathryn hoped with all her heart that he had forgotten the slight unpleasantness of the afternoon, hoped too that he was now resigned to never owning the ring.

  He talked to her amiably enough, but now and then he would lapse into brooding silence, drifting far away from her and from his surroundings, and frowning as if at some idea or thought which was far from pleasant. This was a new side to him; Kathryn wondered how many more facets of his personality she would see, were she to know him longer… and intimately. She did not think he had traits which she would find really unpleasant, although she was practical enough to admit that she could be wrong.

  After dinner they danced as usual; then, to her surprise, Leon suggested they go outside. She had resigned herself to hearing him say that he was tired and wished to go to bed.

  They sauntered to their secret place; he took her hand in the darkness and she thrilled to the strong grip as he curled his long fingers so that her small hand was fully enclosed within his. When they reached the hidden little arbour, he took her gently to him and kissed her on the lips.

  But she sensed something different about him, something indefinable which filled her with a strange uneasiness. She wished the feeling were tangible, that she could put her finger on it, analyse it. His kiss was as thrilling as before, his embrace as possessive and masterful. And yet…

  It was the same all the following day, and again on the last day of the holiday. Leon was as charming and friendly as ever, but Kathryn sensed some undercurrent, something savouring of a mystery, in his manner towards her.

  On the final evening she dressed with her usual care, but her eyes had lost their glow, her lips their ready smile. Leon looked at her across the dinner-table, his gaze resting first upon her lovely curves, then on the beautiful arch of her throat against sloping shoulders whose only covering was that afforded by the cloak of silken hair. Her face attracted a longer perusal; she saw his eyes narrow and knew it was with perception. She was desperately unhappy, and it showed, just as her happiness had showed at the beginning of what was to be an idyllic holiday. All good things must come to an end… What a sad quotation, she thought, quite unable to suppress the great shuddering sigh that rose from the very depths of her being.

  She had accepted it, but her spirits were sunk so low that she had the greatest difficulty in throwing off her dejection and adhering to her earlier resolve to make their final night together a memorable one.

  Dinner was eaten in an atmosphere of strange tension, each endeavouring to contribute to the conversation, but they failed, with the result that there were inevitable lapses into silence. Looking at his dark, set face across the table, Kathryn felt convinced that he was equally as tense as she.r />
  He held her close when, later, they danced; she felt his hand touch the ring she wore, knew he was very conscious of its presence on her finger. She thought of the lie she had told him and once again wished she could take it back so that she could explain why she must keep the ring just in case, by some strange trick of fate, she happened to come across the person to whom it really belonged.

  'Let's go outside, Kathryn.' The words seemed to evolve from a decision suddenly reached, but it was the abrupt quality of Leon's voice that caught Kathryn's full attention. 'There are things I have to say to you.'

  'To say?' Bewildering vibrations shot through her. 'Wh-what th-things, Leon?'

  He held her from him, merely swaying to the rhythm of the dance music. 'Haven't you guessed, Kathryn?'

  She shook her head, but it was an automatic gesture far removed from the more positive sensation that was swiftly taking possession of her, causing her heart to throb as the blood raced madly through her veins.

  'Guessed… guessed what?' She swallowed, for her throat was dry, making speech difficult. Her eyes were scanning his face, searching for what she had dreamed of but never really expected to see.

  'Come outside,' he repeated, bypassing her question. He was already steering her towards the open window, and within seconds they had left the sultry atmosphere of the crowded ballroom and were walking in the fresh cool air of a Grecian night.

  Leon took her hand in his, curling his fingers, thrilling her with an unintentional show of his strength. The night was made for romance, for there was magic in the flower perfumes, in the towering mountains, softened by the purple radiance showered on them from a sky holding a million stars and the crescent moon hanging in their midst. Twinkling diamonds peeping through the trees proclaimed the presence of villas snuggling on the hillsides; from a rounded knoll rose a gleaming white church, its campanile clear and beautiful against the nebulous backcloth of the purple heavens as it swept on its natural arc to meet the dark horizon of the sea. The whining of cicadas in the olive trees was an accompaniment for the mournful, persistent cry of a donkey tethered somewhere on a lonely hillside.

  It was not until they reached their secret place that Leon took her in his arms and kissed her. 'Kathryn, you're so beautiful,' he murmured, his lips caressing her cheek. 'You know why I've brought you out here, don't you?'

  She said nothing, and again she was brought close, her head tilted back so that he could possess her lips in a kiss that began in tenderness and ended in the sort of ruthless mastery that left her mouth bruised, and Kathryn gasping for breath. She turned in his arms, waiting for the words she so desperately wanted to hear. The breeze danced through her hair, teasing it into enchanting disorder; Leon slid his fingers through it in the most proprietorial way, savouring its silken softness before, gripping a handful close to her scalp, he tugged almost roughly, bringing back her head so that she was looking up into his face, helplessly unable to move without hurting herself. His mouth came down on hers, and within seconds his passion flared, ignited by Kathryn's own ardent desires as she pressed her slender body close to his. Leon's lips were tender one moment, merciless the next. Drawn into the vortex of a passion that was as pagan as it was irresistible, Kathryn thrilled to the dominance which left her in no doubt at all that Leon would always be the master, the one to be obeyed… or else…

  'Leon!' she managed breathlessly at last. 'You're… you're hurting me!' She glanced up; he hadn't expected her to, and she surprised a strange glitter in those grey, serpentine eyes, a brittle ruthlessness that sent an involuntary shiver running along her spine. Was he all he appeared to be? Fleetingly she allowed herself to be reminded of how little she knew this dark foreigner with the pagan background. But it was only fleetingly, since the thought was alien to the magic within her, the heady, exotic atmosphere of romance that surrounded her, her desperate desire to marry the dark aristocratic Greek who was holding her with such mastery, as if he were her husband already.

  He said softly, his lips touching her ear, 'Will you marry me, Kathryn?'

  At that she smiled up at him—a trusting smile, like that of a child who has not yet known the hurts of the world. And in her wide and limpid gaze there shone all the love she felt for him… the love and adoration.

  'I'll marry you,' she returned, her voice husky with emotion. 'Oh, Leon, thank you for asking me!'

  He said nothing, but again she surprised that peculiar glitter in his eyes. Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch but she ignored it completely. Her head was in a whirl of excitement; clear thought was precluded anyway, because until a short while ago she had been suffering the agonies of despair, seeing only heartbreak as a reward of her foolishness in falling in love. She ought to know a lot more about the man she wanted to marry; she might be plunging headlong into something she would come bitterly to regret… None of these thoughts had a place in the dream and the desire that was occupying her heart and mind and senses to the exclusion of all else. Leon affected her as no man ever had before or ever would again. She was his, come what may. Kathryn firmly believed that her destiny was irrevocably linked to his and she might just as well lose hold on life as lose this man whose magnetism drew her like a moth to a flame.

  They talked for a while—in between Leon's passionate lovemaking—and Kathryn learned that Leon had only two relatives living, his mother and a sister, Marina, who, though only twenty-one years old, was an invalid. Kathryn also learned that the fields of tobacco through which they had passed on their way to Mycenae were his, as were the vineyards they had seen on another occasion.

  He must be wealthy, decided Kathryn, wishing she could stay on for another few days so that she could see his villa in Athens, the house which would be her home before very long.

  Kathryn told him more about herself, but somehow she had the rather baffling impression that he was not in the least interested in her background. Well, she thought, shrugging off her tinge of disappointment, it didn't really matter, for there was very little to tell anyway.

  After a while she said, with a hint of shy hesitancy, 'When did you know you loved me, Leon? I ask because, only three days ago—when you said I wasn't all joy, remember?' He nodded and she continued, 'You didn't seem, at that time, as if you were thinking of asking me to marry you.'

  'No, I admit it.' There was a rueful touch in his voice which Kathryn felt had been deliberately injected into it. 'You see, sweet, I was perfectly satisfied with my bachelor existence. It was so smooth and peaceful, and I hadn't any intention of allowing any woman to disrupt it. But you came into my life…' He broke off, and Kathryn saw a strange sort of frown crease his forehead. 'I had to have you, Kathryn, and so my bachelor days are at an end.'

  She stared into his eyes, not knowing what she was searching for. 'Have you any regrets?' What had forced a question like that to her lips?

  'None, obviously,' he answered briefly.

  'Your sister, Leon—does she live with you?'

  He nodded his head. 'We all live together, but if she wasn't an invalid, she'd have been married and Mother would have been able to remarry too.'

  'Your mother has a… a friend?'

  'She's had one for years, but she refuses to give Marina over to anyone else's care.' Bitterness edged his voice now, and the crease in his forehead was a deep furrow of reflective thought. Kathryn wished she could ask him to tell her what was in his mind, but she dared not.

  'Will Marina never get better?' Deep compassion edged Kathryn's voice; she could not bear to think of a girl so young being an invalid.

  A long unfathomable silence followed her question before Leon said, the oddest inflection in his voice, 'I don't know… time will tell…'

  'She's having treatment?'

  'Treatment isn't possible, Kathryn, as the… disease… cannot be diagnosed.'

  Kathryn looked at him, faintly puzzled by the hesitation. 'You mean,' she said, 'that the doctors don't know what's wrong with her?'

  'That's exactly what I mean,'
he replied, and there was something pointedly repressive in his voice that convinced Kathryn that he wanted the subject dropped. She thought she understood: any mention of his sister's illness would obviously upset him, so it was understandable that he preferred not to talk about it.

  Chapter Four

  The air was heavy with the scent of flowers and the sun was high in a brittle Grecian sky. As Kathryn stared into the distance, to where the Acropolis in all its glory flaunted the most beautiful building in the world, she felt as if heaven itself was hers.

  The wedding had been quiet, with Leon's mother looking on with quiet and oddly unfathomable approval, and his sister in her wheelchair seeming to be happy for her brother even while a deep sadness darkened her eyes, and twice Kathryn had surprised a convulsive movement of her lips. Marina was beautiful —dark and sensitive features, gleaming black hair, expressive eyes which, her mother had told Kathryn, had at one time almost always been bright with laughter.

  Kathryn had asked tentatively about the other girl's illness; Mrs. Coletis had closed up immediately, and Kathryn, embarrassed, had never again broached the subject.

  Leon was wonderful—the perfect husband and lover —and if at odd times Kathryn felt a twinge of uneasiness, she crushed it at once because she was sure there was no foundation for it.

  'Darling…' Leon came to stand beside her on the balcony, his tall figure immaculately clothed in a lightweight suit of oyster grey, his shirt of snow-white cotton contrasting most attractively with the burnt-ochre of his skin.

  Kathryn caught her breath and, as always, marvelled that she should have such a superlative man for her husband. How blessed she was!

  'How about having lunch out?' Leon was close, his arm slipping about her waist in that gentle yet possessive way he always had with her. 'Mother's going out with her friend, and Marina wants to rest.'