CHAPTER TEN
OPHELIA checked her appearance in the mirror for the tenth time. The tailored green jacket and skirt, teamed with high heels and a fashionable necklace, were the height of formality to a woman who was happiest in jeans. But then she was dressed to impress.
Virginia Metaxis was reputed to be a very chic lady and Ophelia was intimidated by the prospect of meeting her mother-in-law for the first time. Nevertheless, she was also pathetically grateful for the invitation, even if she did suspect that she had Lysander to thank for it. After all, more than six weeks had passed since their wedding. Although his mother had written offering her good wishes for the future, the sheer passage of time had persuaded Ophelia that Virginia was seriously unhappy with her son’s choice of wife. The combined history of their families only added to the embarrassment factor. Not only was there the infamous jilting of thirty years ago, but also the long, mortifying saga of Gladys Stewart’s bitter determination to be a hostile neighbour to the Metaxis estate steadily expanding on her boundaries.
A limousine ferried Ophelia through the heavy London traffic to Virginia’s apartment. For the past three weeks, Ophelia had travelled between Madrigal Court and the town house almost every day while Lysander generally stayed in the city and caught up with business. An enormous amount of work had already taken place at the Elizabethan manor house, but the restoration was currently entering the phase where important decisions on the décor had to be taken and Ophelia had found her input very much in demand. While she was overjoyed to see the ancient house coming to life again she felt ill-suited to the challenge of choosing final finishes and colour schemes. The more conflicting advice she received from the professionals, the more confused and indecisive she became.
Worst of all, the responsibility was eating up time she wanted to spend with Lysander, or working in the garden. But it wouldn’t be for ever, Ophelia told herself bracingly. She had discovered that being a Metaxis wife was hard work and her new role had presented her with a steep learning curve. The first week she had feared she might drown in the flood of social invitations and requests for charitable support and visits. She now rejoiced in a personal assistant of her own as a first line of defence. The big party that would formally introduce her to the world as Lysander’s wife was only forty-eight hours away. At least she would have met her elusive mother-in-law beforehand, Ophelia conceded wryly as she travelled up in the lift to the older woman’s apartment. On cue her mobile phone buzzed.
‘Yes, Lysander?’ Ophelia answered wearily, for she knew she was being checked up on. ‘I’m almost there, beautifully dressed and feeling sociable.’
‘There’s no need to be nervous.’
‘I don’t know where you get the idea I’m nervous, and if you’re worried that I’m going to put my feet in it by referring to the family skeletons, you can relax,’ she assured him in a voice that was slightly shrill. ‘All that’s done and dusted as far as I’m concerned. I grew up listening to my mother and my grandmother continually rehashing it. Miss Haversham and her wedding dress had nothing on the pair of them, and Aristide’s no-show at the church is the last thing I want to discuss with your mother, okay?’
Lysander suppressed a groan. ‘Okay.’
‘And if she hates me, it’s not going to bother me and I’ll still be really nice, all right?’ Ophelia added hastily.
‘Nobody could hate you—’
‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ Ophelia muttered edgily. ‘That ex-girlfriend of yours who saw us at the airport looked at me with so much venom, it’s a wonder I didn’t drop dead on the spot. When I think of how many of your exes are out there—’
‘Will you calm down?’
‘Lysander…a woman gets made nervous by a guy telling them quite unnecessarily to calm down.’ On that finishing note, Ophelia dug her mobile back in her bag with a certain amount of satisfaction and walked out of the lift.
‘Ophelia…’ Virginia was a tall woman with very short grey hair, who looked a good deal older and thinner than she had in the photos Ophelia had seen, but she welcomed Ophelia with considerably more warmth than she’d expected. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this moment for ages,’ Virginia explained, ‘but I had a treatment plan to complete and it just didn’t feel like the right time until now.’
A treatment plan? Ophelia had no idea what her hostess was talking about and wondered if she was referring to illness, or more probably some special course of beauty therapy. But she replied graciously, ‘I’m really pleased to be here and I’m hoping that you will come and visit your old home whenever you feel like it.’
The older woman’s thin features lit up. ‘You wouldn’t mind? I must admit that I would love to see the house again, but I don’t like to pry.’
Ophelia hurried to lay that fear to rest and, as Virginia talked without reserve, she lowered her guard as well. A few minutes later she was horrified to hear herself say without thinking, ‘Mum always said you were very relaxing to be around…oh, dear—’
‘Please do talk about her,’ the older woman urged. ‘Cathy was one of my closest friends at school and I very much regret the way in which our friendship ended.’
‘I don’t have any feelings of animosity towards you,’ Ophelia hastened to assert.
‘None at all? I was surprised that you hadn’t told Lysander that Aristide was involved with your mother for many years,’ Virginia admitted.
Ophelia studied her in astonishment. ‘You knew about their affair?’
‘Of course. Three lives got tangled up and spoiled, all because one man couldn’t make his mind up between two women. And, of course, both those women loved him.’ Virginia gave her a look of wry acceptance. ‘I adored Aristide, but he had a weakness for women. I brought him home to meet my mother at the gate lodge soon after Madrigal Court was sold to your grandparents. The same evening, Cathy visited and I didn’t exist for Aristide any more. It was love at first sight for him and I had to be a good sport and accept that I was only a friend from that point on.’
Ophelia was frowning. She had not been aware that Aristide had dated Virginia before he met Cathy. It put a different complexion on events.
‘Aristide would never tell me why he broke off his engagement to your mother.’
‘Are you saying that he finished with Mum before their wedding day?’ Ophelia could not hide her surprise.
‘Two days before. The drama in the church was not of his making and he was appalled when he heard about it. Perhaps Cathy couldn’t face telling your grandmother that the wedding was off. Perhaps she believed that Aristide would show up regardless of what he had said. She knew how much he loved her.’
‘Yet he married you,’ Ophelia countered gently.
‘On the rebound. Whatever split them up hurt his pride and he turned to me for consolation. He assured me that it was over between them. Some would say I got what I asked for when I married a man who was in love with another woman. But when you’re young, you’re an optimist. I thought he’d get over her,’ Virginia admitted with a rueful smile. ‘He didn’t. She was full of fun and very beautiful, and I was always sensible and quiet. It didn’t help matters when we discovered that I couldn’t give him children.’
‘But you adopted Lysander.’
‘That was several years later and I’m afraid that Aristide was rather a disinterested father and, of course, Lysander noticed. You have a younger sister, I believe. Does she live with you?’
That sudden change of subject startled Ophelia and she was surprised that the older woman should be aware that she had a sibling. ‘Molly? It’s more than eight years since I last saw my sister. She was adopted soon after my mother died.’
‘Is that so?’ A sudden silence fell, in which Virginia seemed oddly uncomfortable and stuck for words. She glanced up with a hint of relief when her housekeeper appeared with a tray. ‘Thank you, May. Exactly what we need.’
‘Don’t get up, madam,’ May scolded in an anxious tone. ‘You know the doctor said you’r
e to take it easy and get all the rest you can.’
‘I’ll pour the tea.’ Ophelia smiled at her hostess. ‘Have you been ill?’
Virginia explained that she had recently completed a course of treatment for breast cancer. Ophelia was shaken by this admission, but did her utmost to conceal her reaction. Virginia was positive about her prospects of making a good recovery, but was equally quick to admit that such calm had evaded her at the outset of the diagnosis.
‘Lysander found it very difficult to cope with my illness. He expected the worst and I sensed that, which didn’t help me to be brave. He argued with every medical decision and called in third and fourth opinions. However, being Lysander, he couldn’t bring himself to discuss his fears with anyone or even admit their existence. He’s the strong, silent type and much harder to deal with.’
Ophelia was sinking deeper into shock by the second. From the first moment she had met Lysander, his mother had evidently been suffering a major medical crisis and yet he had not once mentioned the situation to Ophelia or felt the need to share his concerns. She felt terribly hurt. They had been married for more than six weeks and yet still he hadn’t got around to telling her. ‘Yes, I know,’ she said dully.
‘I was amazed when he took off and married you without even telling me about it until afterwards,’ Virginia continued cheerfully. ‘It was so unlike him that I knew it had to be love. When I realised that you’d been nursing your grandmother for months, I insisted that he didn’t mention my illness to you. I was determined not to cast a shadow over your honeymoon.’
While Ophelia was relieved by that explanation, she was also stung by the older woman’s natural assumption that her son had married for love. The absence of love in her marriage was something that Ophelia tried very hard not to think about, because negative thoughts only made her feel dissatisfied.
‘I was starting to fear that Lysander would be single until the day he died and then you came along and I have to tell you—Lysander is transformed,’ Virginia declared.
‘Transformed?’ Ophelia repeated uncertainly.
‘Even as a little boy, he was very solemn and serious. He didn’t play like other children. When I tried to make him smile he would comply to please me, not because he wanted to. As an adult he never seemed to lighten up. He would tell me that he was happy but all he seemed to do was work—’
‘He did a lot of partying too,’ Ophelia was moved to point out.
‘Yes, but none of those unfortunate women seemed to mean anything to him. I was afraid that my son was rather heartless and now I see that all he was waiting for was—in good old-fashioned parlance—the right woman. Since he found you, Lysander is happy for the first time in his life…’
An awful sense of foreboding was creeping over Ophelia as her mind grappled with what she had found out and put it all together to make a picture. A very disturbing picture that explained things she had struggled to understand weeks earlier. Then she had come up with her own comfortable explanation: that Lysander found her sufficiently desirable to give their marriage a chance, even if he didn’t love her.
‘How do you know he’s happy?’ she prompted.
‘He’s so different. Once or twice he’s almost been chatty,’ his mother told her with tender amusement. ‘He laughs, he smiles, he tells me little things about you—oh, nothing private, I assure you. He’s very loyal. But that bleak wall of distrust he seemed to live behind has been breached. ‘
As Ophelia focused on the older woman’s shining eyes she could feel her heart sinking inside her. If only Virginia’s rosy image of their marriage were a true one, she thought painfully. Yet Ophelia could never have understood Lysander’s motivation in marrying her without having her first meet his mother or tell her that the older woman had been ill. Every unusual circumstance fitted the scenario Ophelia now saw spread out before her. And the driving force that had kept their marriage afloat against all odds was ludicrously simple and at the same time cruelly cold-blooded: Lysander would have done anything to get his hands on Madrigal Court. Why? Fearing that his mother might die, he had planned to give the house back to her. Whatever the sacrifice, whatever the cost, for Lysander might not be the most demonstrative of sons but he was undeniably a devoted one. She knew what his adoptive mother meant to him. He might even have hoped that the older woman’s fond memories of the ancient house would strengthen her desire to survive her illness.
Ophelia finally knew why he had insisted that they would have to pretend their marriage was real if word of its existence became public. To protect his mother. Naturally he would not have wished to distress a sick woman with the news that he had married a stranger purely in an effort to bring her ancestral home back into the family. How could he possibly have admitted that truth to Virginia?
‘Are you feeling all right, my dear?’
Ophelia stared back at Virginia and fought the woolly confusion of her racing thoughts. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You’ve turned as pale as marble.’
‘If I could just freshen up…’
In the smart cloakroom, Ophelia struggled to get a grip on her seething emotions. But she felt as if the ground were tilting beneath her. Her skin was clammy, her stomach unsettled. Shock held her in a crushing embrace of pain. Evidently her personal attractions had not had the slightest influence on Lysander’s request for a normal marriage. He was still faking it for his mother’s benefit. Virginia was delighted that he was married and Lysander was willing to stay married to please her. And of course he was happier now that his mother was recovering from her illness, she thought wretchedly. Health scares did make people much more aware of how much the sick person meant to them.
But where did that leave Ophelia? Madly in love with a guy only tolerating her as a wife out of consideration for his mother. Could she live with that? Have children with him? Pretend that she hadn’t put two and two together and added up a total that broke her heart? She hadn’t thought that he loved her, but she had come to believe that he found her very attractive and that he cared for her. Only now it seemed that he was simply making the best of a difficult situation.
She crossed her arms and accidentally pressed against her breasts, which had become rather tender. Her tummy still felt slightly queasy. It might just be shock, but she could equally well be suffering the early discomforts of pregnancy. She and Lysander had decided they didn’t want to wait. They had seen no good reason to. In a few days she planned to get a test done, but in her heart of hearts she already knew what the result would be. So, it wasn’t a matter of deciding what she could live with or without, was it? If she had already conceived, their child deserved a stable background with two parents.
Ophelia rejoined Virginia and managed to talk about Madrigal Court and the party and how much she had enjoyed staying on Kastros. She refused to think a single dangerous thought that might threaten her composure. When she had left the older woman and was able to stop putting on a front she slumped in the lift. She was supposed to be dining out with Lysander. But she couldn’t face him. She couldn’t face him feeling as she did: cheated, hurt, sorry for herself and angry all at the same time.
Her mobile phone rang. Lysander’s name flashed on the screen and she switched it off before telling the chauffeur of her changed itinerary. She would go back to Madrigal Court while she came to terms with what she had found out. A few minutes later, the car phone rang. She knew it would be Lysander and she had to steel herself to answer it.
‘I told you Virginia would love you, yineka mou,’ he drawled with rich satisfaction.
Tears almost blinding her as her eyes flooded without warning, Ophelia cleared her throat. ‘I’m not coming back to the town house tonight.’
‘Why?’ Lysander could hear the wobbly note in her voice and he frowned. ‘Are you upset about something?’
‘I’m going home. I…I just need a little break from you.’
‘Even with good behaviour, you don’t get time off,’ Lysander said very drily.
>
‘I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this.’ Ophelia replaced the phone.
What was there to talk about? Lysander specialised in being brilliant at most things he focused on and, although it went much against the grain to admit it, at that moment Lysander was a runaway success in the husband stakes. He had made her happy. Oh, why stint on the praise? He had made her ecstatically happy. He had a knack for doing everything right. It was as if he had come up with a blueprint for a successful marriage and he was following it to the letter.
He made regular phone calls and endeavoured to take an interest in what interested her. If that meant struggling not to shiver in the walled garden in a gale-force wind while striving to demonstrate interest in the flora and enquiring into the meaning of their Latin names, never let it be said that Lysander had shrunk from the challenge. He even managed to put in long hours of work, while giving her the impression that if he had any choice at all he would be with her instead. And when she had confessed that she really would like a baby, the contraception had been ditched there and then. Instant wish fulfilment. What Lysander didn’t know about women could be written on a pin-head. He ticked all the boxes in bed—and out of it too. What could she possibly complain about? That he was a caring son? Love wasn’t part of their marriage deal. Tears were streaming down her face.
Some hours later, Lysander sprang out of the helicopter at Madrigal Court and strode towards the front door on long, powerful legs. He had cancelled a board meeting last minute. High on rage at his wife’s lack of self-discipline and consideration, he strode through the house in search of her.
‘Afternoon, Lysander,’ Haddock piped up in the Great Hall.
‘Good afternoon, Haddock,’ Lysander growled, passing by the parrot.
‘Metaxis bounder—good-for-nothing swine! You can’t trust a Metaxis!’
Lysander froze in his tracks and looked back. Haddock strutted along his perch and broke into a rendition of a nursery rhyme, the living embodiment of an innocent bird. It was pure coincidence, nothing more. The stupid creature had no idea what he was saying. He was merely a clever mimic who repeated phrases he had heard. It would be paranoid to suspect that Haddock was putting the boot in behind Ophelia’s back.