Dark Avenger Page 6

  "Julie, I've asked you a question." Her uncle's voice broke into her thoughts and she glanced across at him. "He accepted the money?"

  "He did not accept the money." She leant back against the soft upholstery of the chair, her cup and saucer in her hand.

  Why was she so calm? Was she sunk in the apathy of defeat and despair? Or could it be that she had almost convinced herself that Doneus Lucian would not carry out his threat - that it had never been his intention to do so? There was something so noble about him, something so far above such behaviour.

  Julie recalled that transient moment when hovering on her lips were words which, had they been uttered, would have informed him that she did not believe he had sent the message at all.

  The next moment she had owned to herself that the idea was ridiculous, because she was there, discussing the matter with him. Her arrival had been expected, his ultimatum presented.

  And yet, deep in her subconscious, there still dwelt the sure conviction that some mystery surrounded the whole proceedings.

  "He-!" Edwin's face went grey. Julie noticed the quick convulsive twitching of his fingers as, having picked up a piece of scone, her uncle returned it to his plate. "He actually refused two hundred pounds! I don't believe it! "

  "I offered him five hundred, Uncle," Julie informed him quietly.

  "He almost laughed in my face."

  A swift glance, astounded, and then, "Laughed - at five hundred pounds? What sort of circumstances was the fellow in?"

  "Extremely poor circumstances." Julie lapsed into thought again, still wrestling with the mystery woven by her own conflicting questions and answers. That Doneus Lucian would very much like to marry her was evident, although for what reason she could not even begin to guess. And as he did wish to marry her the threat had been uttered in the hope of effecting a capitulation on her part, but, having failed in his endeavour, had Doneus become resigned?

  As if to strengthen this new theory came the recollection of his unsureness - a momentary lapse, she believed, but its presence had not been missed by Julie.

  "His home," Edwin was saying. "What was it like?"

  "It was, as you implied, a hovel - neglected inside and out. In fact, it might almost not have been lived in for years - judging by the garden, at least. It was dreadfully overgrown, although there were beautiful flowering shrubs. At some time or other it had been tended most carefully, that was evident."

  Edwin shook his head, saying that those spongedivers had to care for their gardens, because they were forced to grow their own food during the seven months they were unemployed.

  "It's only October," he said as if suddenly finding an explanation for the neglected garden. "He'll have been away since April.

  That's why the place is overgrown."

  "Why isn't he beginning to do something with it now?"

  "Perhaps he intends to do so."

  Dismissing the matter with a shrug of her shoulders Julie went on to relate all that had taken place between Doneus and herself, mentioning also that the woman who had brought the message to England was his mother.

  "She doesn't live with him," she ended, and Edwin looked at her with a blank expression.

  "What does that signify?"

  "If she's a widow - and I somehow gained the impression that she is - then you'd think she and her son would live together, for economic reasons."

  After giving no more than a few seconds' consideration to this Edwin said impatiently, "We're digressing. If that rogue doesn't want the money then what the devil does he want?"

  It was Julie's turn to be impatient.

  "You know very well what he wants - me! "

  "Such damned nonsense! The fellow should be put behind bars!"

  "He hasn't done anything criminal that I can see." How calm her tones! And she was actually defending the man! What had that one short interlude with the tall Greek done to her?

  "Blackmail's a criminal offence!"

  "Yes, I suppose you would call it blackmail," she agreed after a pause, and the idea brought a sudden frown to her brow.

  "The scoundrel's up to something, but what? Unless he's completely lacking in nous he must know that the idea of marriage between a girl of your class and a Greek peasant is utterly preposterous! Yet in spite of this he refused five hundred pounds -" Edwin broke off, staring at his niece with sudden comprehension. "I've got it! Clear as daylight. He's after bigger fish."

  Julie blinked, and looked interrogatingly at him.

  "I don't understand?"

  "If he knows so much about us then he's aware that you have a fortune in your own right - and that's what he's after! He

  honestly believes he can force you to marry him and bring him a fat dowry! By heaven, the man's no fool! It's easy to see why he laughed at the idea of five hundred pounds."

  Julie went pale. Could this be the explanation? It was certainly the only feasible one, but why was her heart sinking like this?

  Why, when she had clear proof of his infamy, should she be clinging to the hope that Doneus was an honourable man?

  Certainly he was not honourable. Her uncle's explanation was the correct one; Doneus Lucian was hoping to marry a wealthy woman.

  "What's to be done?" Edwin seemed suddenly to droop. "If Alastair doesn't marry Lavinia we're finished. Everything will have to go under the hammer."

  Julie's heart jumped.

  "It's as bad as that?"

  Her uncle rose from his chair and began pacing the room, his tea forgotten.

  "Things have been going from bad to worse - and both Alastair and I have been gambling in an effort to save the situation."

  Julie sat there staring at him as he walked up and down the room, his eyes on the floor. She tried to speak, to voice some words of blame, but what was the good of recriminations now?

  After a long while she asked if her money would suffice to put things right, but her uncle shook his head.

  "In the first place I wouldn't accept it, and in the second place it would be totally inadequate. This house is mortgaged."

  She stared disbelievingly.

  "This house ... our home? Uncle, how could you carry your gambling so far as that?"

  He sat down on a chair, and put his head in his hands. Julie watched him for a while, thinking of her initial contempt on hearing about the promise he had made to Doneus Lucian all those years ago, and her subsequent conviction that she would no longer remain in his home. Now, seeing him in the chair, sunk in the depths of misery, she forgot everything except the fact that he had taken her, and brought her up as his own daughter, loving her, lavishing on her as much devotion as on his own son. She went to him and, dropping down beside his chair, she put her arms around him.

  "Uncle, don't. Everything will be all right. Doneus Lucian will never come here. I know he won't." And at the words she experienced the most odd sensation. All anxiety fled; it was as

  if Doneus Lucian himself had conveyed a message across the separating land and sea, reassuring her, telling her he had no intention of carrying out his threat. "He'll not come, darling. The wedding will go off without a hitch."

  Edwin raised his head, and her heart turned right over as she saw the tears in his eyes. A man crying. Was there ever such a heartbreaking sight?

  "Why are you so sure, Julie?" Her hands slid to his shoulders and Edwin's covered them. "You've said that it's you he wants, and that he threatened to come to the church."

  "That's what he said, but he didn't mean it." Her whole being seemed to be shouting with triumph - a triumph born of the conviction that Doneus Lucian was too upright and honourable to carry out his threat.

  Julie saw him only as she came abreast with him, and so great was the shock that she missed her footing on the lower step leading into the cathedral and would have fallen had his arm not shot out and saved her. The contact! For one fleeting moment her mind was stripped of all else but that.

  "You look beautiful, Julie." The words, soft as the caress of a breeze i
n high summer, were whispered in Julie's ear before, releasing her, Doneus stepped back, out of the way of the bevy of lovely girls in the bridal procession. Ashen and disbelieving, the wild pulsation of her heart almost suffocating her, Julie took a faltering step that brought her out of line and motioned the other bridesmaids to carry on into church.

  "But, Julie," whispered Cheryl, glancing at the tall stranger clad in a cheap but neat brown suit, the snowwhite shirt front and collar contrasting vividly with the darkness of his skin, "what's wrong?"

  "I've had a strange turn -" Which was true. Never in her life had Julie received so great a shock. She had been so convinced that he would never appear at the church. But he had, and his action shattered Julie ... and caused again the hurt she had felt when her uncle suggested he was interested in her fortune, refusing the five hundred because he was after bigger fish.

  Well, it was either that or he was possessed of some maniacal craze for vengeance and - should he manage to get her for his wife - it was his intention to ill-treat her, making her pay for the wrongs he had suffered at the hands of her relatives. Even though his action in coming here so aptly fitted his name she could not accept this ... and yet, in her great terror and confusion, she did see a devil as she looked into those dark and penetrating eyes.

  "So you came!" Frantically she glanced over her shoulder at the people and the photographers and the pressmen all milling around. "I didn't think you would -"

  "I told you I would, and you yourself said you knew I'd keep my word." Was it imagination, or was there a note of desperation in his voice? Julie dismissed that. There was no time for thought.

  "I know I did, but later I felt you were too honourable."

  "I am totally without honour - as are your fine relatives. Quick! Accept my offer or I go in there! They will never be married ... and, Julie, your people will be ruined."

  Unconsciously she extended both her hands to him, saw him look at them in a very strange way. She noticed also the pulsation of a nerve in his scar which somehow gave her hope.

  "Go away, Mr. Lucian - I beg of you! Lavinia has not harmed you -"

  "My interest is not in the Jarrows, but the Veltrovers." His black eyes flickered significantly to the church and his arrogant head was thrown back. He had all the air of the victor and yet Julie sensed again that tiny access of uncertainty and desperation.

  Was this his final effort at bending the Veltrovers to his will? - and, should he fail, would he go away and leave them in peace?

  This idea was strong within Julie - and yet she dared not turn and walk into the church, leaving him there, and hoping he would go away.

  "Mr. Lucian, I beg of you - I do implore you -" She was still frantic, thinking of Lavinia in church, glowing and starry-eyed, her heart beating rapidly, no doubt, as with each passing moment she was nearer to becoming her idol's wife..

  "I know all, Julie," Doneus was whispering in her ear. "And I not only intend denouncing Alastair, but I shall also let it be known that the Veltrovers are bankrupt, and that they are interested in the dowry, not the girl."

  "Alastair loves her-"

  "Don't connect Alastair with love! " Harsh and venomous now, his voice, and black hatred looked out of his eyes. "Your promise, I say! And quick! "

  The last vestige of colour left Julie's face; she was aware of curious pressmen taking in the little scene, but only vaguely.

  "God help me," she cried inwardly. "Please take this man away!" Aloud she pleaded with Doneus again, but precious moments were passing and all she received for an answer was, "Decide, Julie! Now - or else I go into that church! "

  "No!" A spasm of sheer terror passed through her. "I c-can't marry y-you . . ." Her voice faltered she felt as if the whole world had deserted her and she was alone with this pagan from the East, alone and utterly in his power. "I b-beg of you -"

  "It's only for seven months, Julie! Think! For five months you can return to your family. That's almost half the year." She stared, her beautiful eyes filmed and her lashes worked rapidly to hold back the cold tears of hopelessness and terror. Seven months, he had said. "Quick!" he hissed again, his eyes darting to the church door. Julie had the impression that this man was fighting not only for time, but for his life. "Quick, I say!"

  Seven months ...

  To be his wife, his woman, as they said in Greece. To be subservient to his wishes and desires, for seven months of every year taken down into the dark depths of the underworld.

  He made a move towards the church door.

  "Too late! I am going inside"

  "No, wait! " She caught his arm, her brain scarcely functioning as she cried in desperation, "I'll make a bargain with you." It would not work, she felt sure, and yet she knew at least that she had arrested him. "I'll marry you, and stay with you for seven months of the year ... but it will be impersonal.."

  "Impersonal?" He stared, shaking his head. "How can marriage be impersonal?"

  "I don't know you," she cried, unconsciously twisting her hands.

  "How can I live with you as your wife? No," she said with a finality which brought a swift look of consternation to his eyes.

  "Go on in, I can't do anything to stop you."

  He stood where he was, a towering giant, looking at her for a few seconds, at her upturned face, so pale and so lovely, at her eyes, shaded now with total acceptance of defeat.

  "I agree to your terms, Julie," was his quiet and unemotional acceptance of her offer.

  "And you will keep your word?" She looked deeply into those black eyes, her own eyes pleading and urgent, seeking some sign of insincerity as he said, faint indignation in his tones, "I never break my word, Julie," and she knew she could trust him, but when he smiled at her she turned aside, not hating him, strangely, but hurt and bitter in a way she failed to understand. "You had better go into church," he advised, and added, "I'll ring you tomorrow - to make arrangements for our marriage."

  She did not move. What had she done? A terrible desolation held her in its grip and Julie felt it would linger on and on. .. for the rest of her life.

  "You haven't asked me for an assurance that I shall keep my word," something made her say, and the merest touch of a smile curved the fine outline of his lips.

  "I have no need to, my dear," he returned, looking straight at her. "Like me, you never break your word."

  They were on the patio, Julie reading a book but now and then raising her eyes to glance at her husband's dark face, and each time she did so a strange feeling of unrest would sweep over her. She had kept her word, as Doneus had known she would, marrying him and coming to Kalymnos in face of the strongest opposition from her uncle who, having little regard for the feelings of Lavinia, pointed out that as the marriage had taken place there was no longer anything to fear. Lavinia would soon get over any hurt, he added, but Julie shook her head.

  "I've made a solemn promise, Uncle -"

  "Under pressure - as I made one ten years ago! Why is this man here at all? Why hasn't he suffered the fate of so many others and been killed before now -?"

  "No!" The single word was an explosion of protest and seemed actually to stun her uncle. Julie averted her head, her nerves quivering at the idea of Doneus Lucian falling victim to that merciless underwater draught and being killed or, perhaps even worse, dreadfully maimed for the rest of his life. Would he be hurt some day? She closed her eyes, wondering how she could feel like this about the safety of a man who meant absolutely nothing to her. How terrible for those who loved their husbands, for mothers and sisters. Why did men have to make a living in this way?

  "You're not going to marry a peasant - and a foreigner!" her uncle had said, high-handed and autocratic. But Julie, who had so recently told him that she judged others by their honour and integrity, refused to go back on her word.

  "You'll be home within a week!" Edwin had declared, infuriated at his helplessness, and at what he termed his niece's utter pig-headedness in refusing to break the promise she had been compelled to ma
ke under such extreme pressure.

  Julie's thoughts were interrupted as Doneus, glancing up from some papers he had been perusing, smiled at her and said, "What is it, Julie? You are so deep in thought. Cannot I be let into your secrets - just now and then?" His tones were gentle, persuasive, but by no means humble. From the very first he had regarded himself as her equal, and in fact his peasant status seemed real only when Julie thought of his mother, and when she looked round his home, the home to which, just over a month ago, he had brought her, Julie Veltrovers, of Belcliffe House.

  Her lovely grey eyes met his. What was he trying to do? they asked, but although Doneus had once said her eyes told him-everything, he appeared to miss this question because he merely waited for an answer to his query, showing no signs of having interpreted her own silent one.

  "I have no secrets, Doneus." Like his, her tones were gentle, not haughty as they so often were with him.

  "Tell me what you were thinking?"

  "I was thinking of home, naturally."

  "Home, Julie?" He lifted a brow and his mouth had taken on the firmness of censure, but she stared straight at him as she said, "My home is in England, you know that."

  Untidy vines straggled over the roof of the patio and spilled down at each end, untended and without support. From the cracks in the patio floor hundreds of ants scurried to and fro.

  The paint on the wooden pillars was peeling and particles of plaster dropped now and then from the roof.

  "Tell me, Julie, do you just sit here all day, biding your time, as it were, waiting for me to go away so that you can go back to England?"

  "Of course I do." As Persephone must have waited in her abysmal prison, for the day when she would return to a world of sunlight. Five months, Julie would have, beginning at Easter, and at this stage she did not extend her thinking to embrace the situation beyond that point. She gave no thought as to how she would be received by the fashionable set to which she belonged, or to the questions which would inevitably be asked by all her friends who at present must be curious indeed, having been told by Edwin that Julie had married a foreigner and was living with him on a tiny Greek island; nor did Julie give a thought to the day when, her five months of freedom having expired, she would be forced to return to the island and to the man who was her husband.