Dark Enigma, page 13
A chorus of good-natured jibes greeted her withdrawal and as she sat down beside Madame Karamalis the old lady looked at her flushed face and smiled. 'You find our dances too energetic for you, Thespinis Gordon?'
Carey nodded. The laughter in her eyes was bolstered by several glasses of Pallini, and she fanned a cooling hand in front of her face as she replied. Tm exhausted, madame? she admitted cheerfully, 'and I've never been so hot in my life, but it was fun.'
'And you are glad Dimitri persuaded you to dance, eh?'
'It was an experience,' Carey agreed, and the wine sparkled in her eyes as she laughed. 'I'd never have had the nerve to try it if Dimitri hadn't shanghaied me, and
to be honest I hadn't the nerve to tell him I wouldn't try! But oh, where do your people get their stamina from, madameV
Madame Karamalis smiled as at a compliment. 'It is a national characteristic, thespinis. Our men particularly have great—verve, eh?'
She was looking at Dimitri as she said it, Carey noticed, and found it hard to take her own eyes off him, for she had never seen Dimitri behave quite so uninhibitedly in public before. He was leading one of the circles of dancers in the kalamatianos, which meant that he took the most energetic part. Lean and dark as a satyr, he swirled and leapt in the midst of the group, lunging in mock sword-play and seemingly inexhaustible.
'I have to agree,' Carey allowed. There was a great deal of verve in Dimitri's performance, and it was almost impossible for her to look anywhere else but at him.
As more people joined in, a second circle was formed led by Mitso, and although his performance was obviously designed to outdo his brother's, it somehow fell short. He spotted Carey sitting with his mother and left his place as leader to come over to them, his intent made obvious by the look in his eyes. 'Carey, come, you must dance!'
His dark eyes burned with excitement and he was breathing hard as he reached and took her hand, pulling her to her feet even though she shook her head at him. 'I've been dancing,' she protested, 'and I really couldn't try again yet, Mitso, I'm much too hot.'
'Not even for me?' His mouth pursed, and his face came close, flushed and confident and not for a moment believing she would refuse him. He seemed not to even notice that Despina, his new wife, was watching him and frowning, her face flushed below the virginal white veil. 'For me, Carey, yes?' he insisted, but Carey was still shaking her head.
She freed her hand and stepped back from him, and it was a quite unconscious gesture when she looked over at
Dimitri. 'Not at the moment, Mitso, I'm much too hot. I can't keep pace with you all; I was just saying so to Madame Karamalis.'
'You would disappoint me?'
If he was unaware of Despina's eyes on them, he must have been the only one who was, and Carey very pointedly backed still farther away when he attempted to take her hand again. 'I need to take a breather, Mitso, and I think your group is missing you—and your bride.'
Still he stood his ground, unwilling to admit defeat, as always, until Madame Karamalis said something to him, very quietly and in Greek. He looked for a moment as if he might defy even his mother, but then he shrugged his eloquent shoulders and murmuring something under his breath, went back to join his bride and his friends, while Carey heaved a sigh of relief.
Madame Karamalis was watching her with her dark hooded eyes, and it occurred to Carey that she was probably speculating, as Dimitri had done on occasion, just how affected she was by her handsome youngest son. A surprisingly strong hand was pressed over hers suddenly, and Carey turned to look at her.
'You do not care for my son?' Madame Karamalis asked.
Thinking that she knew exactly what she meant by caring for him, Carey gave her head a very definite shake. 'I don't care for him at all in the way you mean, madame, please believe me.'
Once more it was quite unconscious when she glanced across at Dimitri, and in this instance Madame Karamalis followed the direction of her gaze, her black eyes thoughtful. 'Ah,' she said softly. 'Then I have no cause to concern mysel£'
'None at all,' Carey assured her.
'You have no one?'
Again Carey shook her head. 'No, madame,'
'You are a very attractive young woman,' Madame
Karamalis informed her. 'You should have a husband, Thespinis Gordon. It may be that you will find Greek men to your taste, eh?'
It was a subject that Carey found too sensitive to discuss with ease, so she merely smiled. But as she sat watching the dancers, her eyes inevitably followed Dimitri, whirling and leaping with the agility of an acrobat, and she wondered just how aware he was of the number of feminine eyes that followed his performance. He wasn't naive enough to be unaware of his own appeal to women, but neither did he deliberately seek their admiration as Mitso did, Carey believed. He simply followed his own inclinations and accepted whatever it brought him as a matter of course.
Watching him, she felt a sudden wild longing for the feel of his arms around her, and the fierce, ravishing touch of his mouth on hers, and something of the depth of her feelings must have drawn his eyes to her, for she found herself looking directly into them for a brief second. It startled her so much that she coloured furiously and hastily lowered her eyes to the hands on her lap, her heart thudding hard and fast.
'You admire Dimitri?'
The question jolted her back to reality and she stared blankly af Madame Karamalis for a moment before she gathered her wits, choosing her words with care. 'He's a very considerate employer, madame, and I enjoy working for him.'
'And do you also enjoy being kissed by him?' Stunned for a moment, Carey stared at her, but before she had done more than shake her head, the old lady pressed a hand over hers and smiled faintly. 'Do not look so alarmed, pethi" she told her kindly. 'I know my son, and I have already said that you are a very attractive young woman. If I embarrass you I will say no more.'
Carey had never felt so horribly exposed and vulnerable in her life. For kindly though Madame Karamalis was,
the very fact of her remarking that she knew her son and therefore had guessed he had kissed her, made her feel as she did. Like just one more woman in his no doubt crowded love life.
She had already noticed that Niki was no longer in sight and she used any excuse to make her escape from those kindly but knowing eyes. Maybe the remark had been meant as a warning; maybe not, but she was too sensitive where Dimitri was concerned, and the noise and gaiety of the wedding was suddenly overwhelming.
Getting up from her chair, she smoothed down her dress, sounding as matter-of-fact as possible in the circumstances. 'I haven't seen Niki for some time,' she said, 'I think I'll go and see where he's got to, if you'll excuse-me, madame.' - 'He will not be far away,' Madame Karamalis assured her, and the fact that she seemed to know exactly why she was going did nothing at all to help. 'There are many other children for him to play with, Thespinis Gordon, you need not concern yourself.'
Carey gave a shaky little laugh, recalling another occasion when Niki had taken advantage of her distraction to wander off alone. 'Oh, I know Niki,' she said, 'and there's no guarantee that he hasn't gone off alone somewhere and is into mischief. He's a bit too adventurous sometimes.'
'Just as my son Dimitri was/ Madame Karamalis observed softly, and shook her head. 'Do not limit him too much, petki, it is good that he grows like Dimitri.'
'But Dimitri will be quick to blame me if he gets into trouble,' Carey insisted, pulling a wry face. 'Please excuse me, madame, while I go and reassure myself.'
The old lady merely inclined her head, but there was a deep, thoughtful look in the fading dark eyes as they watched her, that Carey would rather not have noticed. It was irresistible as she made her way among the crowded tables to take one more look in Dimitri's direction, and as
she did so Carey realised that he had already missed her. He was looking at the place where she had been sitting and frowning, and her heart beat with wild urgency. Suppose he should follow her
She found Niki playing with a crowd of other children and he was quite content to stay there so that she had no qualms about leaving him, especially in view of Madame Karamalis's expressed opinion. Instead of returning to the old lady, however, she took a stroll among the trees and shrubs, along a quiet path she found, where the tumult of the party was barely audible, and eventually sat down on a seat that was almost completely overgrown by a huge oleander.
It was so much less disquieting sitting there than watching Dimitri; so aggressively masculine as he danced the ancient dances of Greece; powerful and virile and infinitely disturbing. Swiftly on the alert suddenly when she heard voices, she instantly recognised the woman's voice as Minerva Thoulou, and it was entirely instinct that made her lean forward slightly so that she could see through the thinner branches of the oleander, for she had never heard Minerva laugh before.
It was a low, husky and definitely sexy laugh, and Carey felt a brief qualm of conscience as she looked at her, for they could have no idea she was close by, and the situation was not one that should have an onlooker, she realised. Minerva was with a man barely as tall as herself, and stockily built, hatless and dark-haired, and although there was something vaguely familar about him, Carey couldn't actually recognise him.
She was about to show herself when once again that low laughter shivered in the stillness and Minerva swept off the hat she wore, shaking out her hair in a gesture so abandoned it startled Carey. Her usually grave face was bright and animated and her black eyes sparkled as she tipped her head, and another thrill of laughter was silenced almost at once when the man pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
1
Escape seemed even less easy now, and Carey sat there, well back in her seat so that she could no longer see them, wondering how she was going to slip away without being seen. She had completely forgotten about the tiny posy of flowers that she was carrying, one of many thrown into the crowd of guests by the bride, and as she shifted uneasily it rolled off her lap and into the middle of the path in full view.
The silence that followed was almost tangible, and Carey could feel her heart pounding anxiously as she waited. There was a soft, urgent flurry of Greek, followed by the sound of retreating feet, and she was on the point of sighing her relief when Minerva Thoulou appeared in front of her suddenly.
A pink flush still warmed her thin cheeks, and her normally firm mouth had a soft look, as if the touch of that passionate kiss still lingered there. There was neither accusation nor. embarrassment on the curiously still features, only a kind of wariness, and Carey did not know what to say or do. 'Thespinis Gordon/ It was only when she hesitated to go on that Carey realised she didn't know what to say, and felt pity for her.
For someone like Minerva to be caught in a situation such as she had just witnessed must be more of an ordeal than for most people, and Carey was almost convinced she had discovered something that the rest of the Karamalis family knew nothing about. Everything seemed to point that way; the seemingly secret meeting, Minerva's wariness and the fact that the man had quickly disappeared.
'I came looking for somewhere cool to sit for a few minutes,' Carey explained hesitantly. T didn't expect to see anyone else.'
Minerva stood looking down at the tiny bunch of flowers at her feet for a moment, then she bent and picked it up, holding it to her nose for a moment before handing it back. 'You have been here for long?'
'Not very long, Kyria Thoulou, only a few minutes, that's all.'
Minerva's black eyes had the brilliance of jet and were more animated than Carey had ever seen them, and it occurred to her that Minerva, for all her gauntness, had something of the same beauty that Aliki had had. 'You saw?' she asked, and Carey saw no other way but to admit it.
'I didn't mean to, Kyria Thoulou, and when I realised, I sat back and kept out of sight. I wanted to leave, but it wasn't easy without you seeing me.'
'You will tell?'
She was anxious, and Carey looked at her with a hint of reproach. 'No, of course I won't tell, Kyria Thoulou; what you do is your own affair.'
'They would not—understand,' Minerva explained, and there was such anxiety both in her voice and her eyes that Carey's heart went out to her. Did the Karamalis ever understand their women? she wondered. 'You liked Aliki?'
Taken by surprise for a moment, Carey eventually nodded. 'Yes, I liked her very much, in fact. She was so vitally alive it was hard to believe when she died.'
'You thought us too—harsh, perhaps?'
It wasn't an easy question to answer in the circumstances, and because it was Minerva Carey hesitated about how honest to be. 'I don't know just what your attitudes are to certain situations,' she said cautiously. 'I feel that on the whole people should be able to do as they like with their own lives, although of course it does make a difference when there's a child involved.'
'You believe that Aliki—anyone, should lead life as they choose?' The nod Carey gave was slight and rather hesitant, but Minerva seemed not to notice it. 'She was happy?'
Her avid interest in her sister's affair must have some significance, Carey felt, and wondered if Minerva now found herself in a similar position. On that account she
served up a half-truth because she lacked the courage to be too honest. 'Most of the time I think she was happy,' she said, but Minerva was obviously not interested in reservations.
'Ah!' Obviously it was what she wanted to hear, and her bright dark eyes gleamed with an unfamiliar warmth, her chin angled in a way that made her appear more truly Karamalis than she ever had before. 'That is what I wished to know— efharisto, Thespinis Gordon, efharistoV
What exactly she was being thanked for so warmly, Carey wasn't sure, unless it was for relieving Minerva's conscience after all these years. It was by mutual consent that they turned and walked together along the path through the shrubbery, back towards the wedding feast, and Carey took one or two curious sidelong glances at her companion as they walked.
Minerva was the last person she would have imagined having a secret lover, and she was still convinced that no one in the family knew about him; those anxious questions about her intentions proved that. But she recalled how often Minerva had gone out in her car lately, and as they approached a division in the path she recalled a remark of Niki's, when he had been asking about Dimitri's kiss bringing her back to life. 'I think Thia Minerva got saved,' he had remarked, and neither she nor Dimitri had noticed at the time. Minerva was obviously very capable of keeping her own counsel, and only chance had given her away; on two occasions, presumably.
Whether or not she was going in search of her man-friend again, Carey had no idea, but at the division of the path Minerva took the longer way round to the front of the house. Touching her arm lightly, she smiled at Carey, her eyes only slightly evasive; perhaps a little shy. 'I am most grateful to you, Thespinis Gordon,' she whispered, as if even on the edge of that noisy, joyful crowd she feared being overheard. 'Efharisto and— herete!'
Watching her tall and almost regal figure walking
away from her, Carey frowned a little uneasily, for she had the strangest feeling that she had either said or done something that she was going to regret. Although at the moment she couldn't imagine what it might be.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carey did not bother to hurry the following morning because she thought it unlikely that anyone would be around after the wedding festivities. The reception had gone on until well into the night, and Niki had eventually fallen asleep on her lap; he was still sleeping when she looked in on him as usual in the morning, so she decided to leave him and went down to breakfast alone.
She had been almost right about no one being around, for when she appeared Dimitri had the breakfast table to himself, and she pulled a face as she walked along to join him. Dimitri, of course, would make it business as usual, no matter how hectic the night before had been, but whether or not anyone else had followed his example she didn't know, and she smiled at him enquiringly as she took the seat opposite to him.
'Am I first or last?' she asked, and he replied without looking up from some official-looking papers he was looking through.
'Neither,' he said enigmatically, and she frowned.
There was something about him this morning that rang warning bells and she wondered what had happened to cause it. 'No, of course,' she said. 'You were first and you're still here.'
He said nothing for a moment, yet she had the feeling that he was very much aware of her and on the verge of saying something. Then he looked up suddenly and directly at her, his black eyes deep and shadowed. 'Did
you enjoy the wedding?'
Carey paused to smile at the young manservant who brought her rolls and coffee. 'Very much, thank you,' she said as the man departed. 'Although I'm still feeling a bit woolly-headed after all the wine I drank; I'm not an habitual drinker and it goes to my head. 5
She studied him while he was preoccupied with his papers, and yet again tried to fathom the reason for that indefinable air about him. A cream shirt flattered his dark skin and she took note of the fact that the pulse in his throat was beating hard and fast, confirming her suspicion that something was bothering him. There was further confirmation in the tight set of his mouth too, and a slight line between his brows. Nor did she believe his attention was as firmly fixed on the papers he was studying as it appeared to be.
T noticed that you did not stay with the dancers for very long,' he said, still without looking ;up, 'and you looked very flushed. I didn't realise the cause was too much wine.'
Carey bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue and took a fortifying sip of coffee first. She had been more under the influence of the local wine than she realised, but not nearly as much as most of the other guests, and certainly not as much as Dimitri was implying. 'I was very hot and I simply couldn't keep up the pace; it wasn't because I was too pie-eyed to stand up!' she told him, and very deliberately used the vernacular, feeling a faint triumph when he looked up and frowned. 'I mean that because I was flushed and laughing and couldn't manage to keep up with your energetic countrymen, it doesn't mean I was too drunk to stay on my feet! I should never have attempted it in the first place.'
