Legend Of Lexandros

‘And I take it you do not.’ Stavros’s tone was derisive.

Dallas flushed. ‘Do you?’

Stavros rose to his feet before replying. When he did he ignored her question. ‘Tell me, Miss Collins, have you ever been in love?’

‘I … of course!’

‘So it is not a question of jealousy, so far as your sister is concerned?’

‘Jealousy?’ Dallas stood up now. ‘How dare you?’

Stephanos Karantinos handed Stavros his drink, and at his employer’s nod left the room.

Dallas walked to the steps, standing down her half-empty glass.

‘It seems I’m wasting my time,’ she said, coldly, fortified by her own anger at his words. ‘Goodbye, Mr. Stavros!’

‘Wait!’ Stavros swallowed half his drink, and turned away. ‘It was only a thought, one which I didn’t place any faith in, anyway.’ He seemed preoccupied for a moment. ‘Have you asked your sister to stop meeting Paris?’

‘Of course.’

‘And she refuses?’

‘Yes.’

Stavros shook his head. ‘And what do you expect me to do?’

‘Well, obviously, you are his father. Your control over him must be practically absolute.’

‘Not necessarily, although I will admit that I control his income, and without his income Paris is less … shall we say … effective.’ He smiled, rather sardonically, Dallas thought. ‘It is certainly an original experience for me to meet someone with apparently such little regard for money. Most of my acquaintances judge everything by the price for which it can be bought. This applies to people as well as things. A less, shall I say, conscientious person than yourself might see in this situation a chance to inveigle money out of it.’

Dallas stiffened. ‘As you say, I am not that kind of person!’

Stavros walked lazily across to the apartment windows, and looked down on the fairyland of lights that was London spread out below him.

‘Don’t be so quick to sense offence, Miss Collins,’ he said dryly. ‘You created this situation, I did not.’ He leaned back against the window frame. ‘Tell me about your background. What do you do?’

Dallas’s cheeks burned again. ‘What I do is not important.’

‘No, but I am interested.’

Dallas sighed. ‘Well, I’m a teacher.’

‘Is that so?’ His expression resumed its amused appearance. ‘You do not look like any schoolteacher of my acquaintance.’

‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ said Dallas shortly.

‘Yes, I’ll accept that. And is that your whole ambition? To be a teacher, I mean.’

Dallas resented this questioning, but could see no way to avoid it if she wanted Alexander Stavros to use his influence on her behalf. She felt certain he was aware of this, too, and was merely amusing himself by seeing how far she was prepared to go to answer his queries.

Now she said: ‘Naturally, I want to get married. Have a family.’

‘So? And there is a man in your scheme of things, who you have met already, who will provide these things for you?’ The sarcasm was evident in his voice. ‘One, of course, who is from your own small sphere!’

‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ retorted Dallas coldly. ‘I am engaged to be married.’

‘I see. And your sister, what will she do when you get married?’

‘She will live with Charles and myself, naturally.’

‘And does she want to?’

Dallas was tired. ‘Whether she wants to or not is not important. We can give her a home, and security, and that’s all she needs.’

The room echoed with the sound of his laughter. ‘My dear Miss Collins,’ he exclaimed, sobering, ‘you can’t be serious! Do you honestly believe that so long as a person is fed and watered, and given a place to sleep, life goes on its natural course?’

‘No … that is …’ Dallas bent her head. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me, Mr. Stavros. Jane was perfectly happy before she met Paris. Once his influence is lifted, she will be happy again.’

‘And you, Miss Collins, are too naïve to be true!’ His tone was harsh and angry now. ‘There are people who live ecstatically happy lives and yet, by so doing, do not conform to any of your petty little rules! Just because you are prepared to accept less than complete contentment, do not expect everyone to be the same.’ He stubbed out his cheroot savagely, and Dallas felt her spirits sink to their lowest ebb. If she had really angered him, then her hopes that he might help her were doomed from the outset.

She climbed the shallow steps and walked to the door slowly. When she reached the door, she turned and looked back. Alexander Stavros was standing moodily in the centre of the room, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his dark eyes brooding. Dallas felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as she looked at him, and she found herself wondering again what his wife was like. For the first time in her life she found herself confronted by a situation she couldn’t control. She had always considered herself sane and sensible, and certainly not the type of person to ever be attracted to a man like this, and yet Stavros could not help his attraction, any more than she, as a woman, could help being aware of it, and she thought it was as well that she would never meet him again. Perhaps Jane’s involvement with Paris Stavros fitted into the same category. And as Paris had shown an immediate interest in Jane, her sister could not help but feel flattered.

‘So,’ he said slowly, ‘you are leaving, Miss Collins. I have … enjoyed our little conversation. It has been quite enlightening, believe me!’

Dallas did not reply. There seemed nothing more to be said. She merely opened the door, and closing it felt a feeling of depression sweep over her.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_2e6ae230-0cc3-5baa-aa93-2c9a370c6234)

AT the weekend Dallas was astonished to find that Jane was not seeing Paris. After her conversation with Alexander Stavros, Dallas had thought that her intervention could only have had an adverse effect on the whole affair, and she could hardly believe that he had actually spoken to Paris. But whatever he had said, it was obvious that Jane knew nothing about her actions, and for this she was grateful.

Charles arrived on Saturday afternoon to take her down to Maidenhead for the rest of the day, and Dallas impulsively suggested that Jane might go with them.

But Jane was not so keen, and merely declined politely in favour of staying at home and washing her hair. Dallas left her with some misgivings. If Paris had finished with her, she would be better with company than moping at home alone. However, there was nothing she could say, so she had to agree and go with Charles reluctantly.

Mrs. Jennings was waiting for them impatiently, and Dallas was forced to spend the afternoon talking to her while Charles went out to do some gardening. Mrs. Jennings was not the best of conversationalists, and consequently Dallas was prodded into doing most of the talking. It was apparent that Charles had been unable to contain the information about Dallas wanting them to have a home of their own, for the first thing Mrs. Jennings said was:

‘Charles tells me that he is thinking of converting this house into two flats.’

Dallas felt her cheeks burn. ‘Oh, is he?’ she temporised.

‘You know he is. It was your suggestion, wasn’t it?’

‘No, not exactly. I thought we ought to have a place of our own.’

‘Stuff and nonsense,’ said Mrs. Jennings rudely. ‘Charles and I get along very well together. I wouldn’t care to have anyone else about the place.’

‘But I’m going to be about the place,’ replied Dallas firmly. ‘And Charles is going to be my husband. I think I ought to have some say in the matter.’