Master of Comus

'Let go of me! I can do without your company. How can I think when you're with me?'

'Do I disturb you, my dear?' he asked softly.

'You annoy me,' she flung back. 'You're spoilt, odious and spineless!'

'Thank you,' he said very quietly. 'Obviously I'm a poor bargain for you.' The blue eyes stabbed her. 'A pretty plaything of little value, I gather. No wonder you're not in a hurry to pay the purchase price.' His mouth twisted wryly. 'Especially since you can have the Caprel fortune without the annoyance of marrying me.'

She winced. 'Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself!'

She felt a black misery oppressing her, and she was too tired to examine the reasons for this misery. She only knew that she wished she had never come here, never met Paul or Argon. Had she had any suspicions as to her great-grandfather's plan she would have stayed in England. A loose lock of black hair drifted from its moorings and fell over her pale face. She pushed it back out of the way and it floated down again a moment later. Paul deftly pushed it back into its pin, his long fingers lingering on her hair. She shivered.

For some reason this appeared to enrage him even further. He shot back from her, stiffening. 'I'm sorry you find my very touch repulsive,' he said angrily. 'If the idea of the intimate side of marriage is a stumbling block we can always make a pact to keep our marriage purely platonic.'

This seemed to Leonie to be so insulting that she barely knew how to answer him. Her throat was stiff with outrage. In a low, bitter voice, she said, 'I assure you that if I did agree to this absurd proposal, it would only be on that condition.'

Paul laughed harshly. 'Naturally. A marriage of convenience, then, on both sides.'

'Leaving us both free to have the marriage annulled if we want to marry Someone else,' she added, feeling the desperation of one who is burning her home down rather than surrender it to an enemy.

'Agreed.' Paul pushed his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. 'Is it a deal, then?'

She hesitated. 'You' 're rushing me,' she protested.

'Argon, will want a reply as soon as possible,' he said.

She made a gesture of despairing resignation. 'Oh, very Well.'

Paul spun on his heel and walked back towards 'the house without another word. Leonie, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of sick anxiety, called out to him to wait. 'I'm not sure ... I can't ... I need more time.'

He did not turn or even appear to hear her, striding on at a speed that soon took him out of sight. Leonie sank down on the earth and weakly burst into tears.

The events of the last hour had been too much for her nerves. This visit to Comus had been a sufficient strain without the addition of such a burden. Argon's arbitrary decision had taken her breath away. She could not believe him to be serious at first, but once realising that he meant every word, she had barely time to think about his plan before he had gone further and completely stunned her with his suggestion that she marry Paul.

Her childhood adoration of her cousin had left her with a certain hidden softness towards him of which she was only partially aware. Argon's suggestion outraged this secret tenderness just as too early a spri

ng can sometimes blight a flower. Had she been as indifferent to him as she had pretended she would not have been so disturbed, but faced with the necessity to choose or reject him as a husband she had been made miserable by an unadmitted feeling that she was ruining her chances of happiness with him. Paul was a proud man, and he would not enjoy being put in this position. Their relationship would never be the same again.

Some time later she returned to the house, having scrubbed from her face all traces of tears. She found Paul in Argon's room. Argon held out a gnarled, blue-veined hand to her, smiling warmly.

'Paul has told me. I am very pleased, my dear. You will see, all will work out very well in the end.'

She allowed him to kiss her cheek, trying not to meet Paul's eye. She was filled with embarrassment at the sight of him.

'The wedding shall be soon,' Argon said. 'I have little time. I want to see you safely married before I die.'

'You're not going to die,' she told him gently.

He sighed. 'My doctor has given me three months, my dear, no longer.'

She was stricken. 'Oh, Argon! Why didn't you tell us? You must have a second opinion. He may be wrong.'

Argon shook his head. 'He is as good a doctor as I am likely to find anywhere in the world. No, he only told me what I knew already. That is why I am in such a hurry. I want my estate settled before I go.' He took her hand and firmly handed it to Paul, who held it lightly between both of his. 'There! Kiss her, Paul, to seal the bargain.'

Stiff and white-faced, Leonie lifted her face. Paul's mouth brushed hers, cold as ice against her lips. Both of them knew that troubled waters lay ahead.

CHAPTER THREE

IT was Argon's decision to make the wedding a quiet ceremony which would take place on Comus itself. He explained to Leonie that if they had the ceremony in Athens he would have to invite a great many people whom he had no longer any wish to meet. 'Although I have so few close relations, I have many distant ones, all of whom would expect to be invited to your 'wedding—not to mention my old friends and acquaintances, who are legion! I am too tired to go through all that. All I want is to see you married to Paul here in our own little church, according to the ancient rites.' He surveyed her anxiously. 'You will marry Paul in our church, my dear? I know your aunt has brought you up in the English church, but our family has always been Orthodox and the people on Comus would not understand if you did not agree to be married as all the Caprels have been.'