‘What happened to Agnes?’ she asked as Allise hurried back to her kitchen.
‘She left not long after you did,’ he replied, and there was something in his clipped tone that suggested it had not been a friendly parting of the waves.
But this was not the time to go into domestic issues. Isobel had a bigger concern looming forever closer. It came in the shape of her mother, and how Silvia was going to take the news that, having watched her daughter go off this morning ready to end her marriage, Isobel was now agreed to trying again.
Indeed, the marriage had again been consummated, as Leandros had so brutally put it.
They took the direct route to the terrace, treading across cool tiling to a pair of French doors at the rear of the house that stood open to the soft sunlight. They didn’t speak. Isobel was too uptight to talk and she could feel Leandros’s tension as he walked beside her. Was he worried about her mother’s reaction? she wondered, and allowed herself a small, wry smile, because if she were in his shoes she would be more worried about his own mother’s response when she found out about them.
The first person Isobel saw was her mother, sitting on one of the comfortable blue-covered cane chairs, looking a bit happier than she had done the last time she’d seen her. Lester Miles was there too, but he was wearing a brooding frown and he jumped to his feet the moment he saw them step outside.
Her mother glanced around; a welcome smile lit her face. ‘Oh, there you are,’ she greeted brightly. ‘We were just wondering where you’d both got to!’
The we didn’t register as meaning anything special until someone else began to rise from the depths of another chair. She was small, she was neat, she was dark-haired and beautiful. Even as she turned to them, Isobel knew who it was she was about to come face to face with. She had met her just once during a hastily put-together dinner party meant to celebrate Leandros’s surprise marriage. The dinner party had been a complete disaster, mainly because everyone was so very shocked at the news, none less than Diantha Christophoros.
‘I’ve just been explaining to Diantha how kind it was of you to put us up here after our dreadful experience at that awful hotel, Leandros,’ Isobel’s mother was saying with all the innocence of someone who had no idea whom it was she was giving this information to.
Leandros allowed himself a silent oath, and decided that if lightning could strike Silvia dumb right now, he would lift his eyes in thanks to the heavens. As it was, even the older woman had to feel Isobel stiffen and see the faintly curious expression Diantha sent him that had a worryingly amused and conspiratorial gleam about it.
He tried to neutralise it with an easy smile. ‘Diantha,’ he greeted mildly. ‘This is a surprise. I don’t think I recall that you were expected here today.’
Wrong choice of words, he realised the moment that Isobel took a tense step away from him.
‘I know, and I am sorry for intruding like this,’ Diantha replied contritely. ‘Allise should have warned me that you had guests arriving unexpectedly, then I would not have made myself quite so at home.’
‘Oh, you’ve been a great help,’ Silvia assured in her innocence. Lester Miles was standing there looking distinctly ill at ease. ‘We hope you don’t mind, Leandros, but with stairs being a problem for me Diantha has arranged for your handyman to set up a bed in that nice little annexe you have attached to the main house. I think I will be very comfortable there until we catch our flight back to London.’
‘It was my pleasure, Mrs Cunningham.’ Diantha smiled a pleasant smile. ‘I hope you will enjoy the rest of your stay in Athens. Leandros,’ she turned back to Leandros without pause in her smooth, calm voice, ‘I need a private word with you before dinner this evening. Your mother—’
His mother. ‘Later,’ he interrupted, feeling very edgy due to Isobel’s silent stillness. What was more apparent was the way Diantha was ignoring Isobel. Did she believe she had a right to do that?
Had he allowed her to believe she had that right?
‘Isobel, darling, you look very pale,’ Silvia inserted. ‘Are you feeling OK?’
No, Isobel was not OK, Leandros thought heavily. She believed Diantha was his lover. She had believed Diantha was the woman he had been about to put in her place. Her chin was up and her eyes were glinting. It was payback time for the way he had treated her Adonis and he did not for one moment expect Isobel to behave any better than he had done. But for all that he might deserve the payback, Diantha was innocent in all of this. He could not afford an ugly scene here, and turned urgently to face his statue of a wife.
‘Isobel…’ he began huskily.
‘Oh, you do look pale!’ Diantha exclaimed gently. Then she was smiling warmly as she walked forward with a hand outstretched towards Isobel, and Leandros was at a loss as to how to stop what he knew was about to take place. The air began to sing with taut expectancy; he felt the sensation attack his loins. ‘I don’t suppose you remember me, Isobel,’ Diantha was saying pleasantly. ‘But we met once, at…’
Isobel turned and walked back into the house, leaving the horrified gasps echoing behind her and the sound of Leandros’s urgent apologies to his mistress ringing in her head!
Striding back down the hall with the heels of her shoes tapping out a war tattoo against hard ceramic, she opened a door that led to one of the smaller sitting rooms at the front of the house. She stepped inside the room and slammed the door shut.
‘Get out of here,’ she lanced at Leandros when he managed to locate her several seething minutes later. ‘I have nothing to say to you, you adulterous rat!’
‘Back on form, I see,’ he drawled lazily.
She turned her back to him and continued to glare out of the window that looked out on the front of the house. Her arms were folded beneath her heaving breasts and she could actually feel the fires of hell leaping inside.
The door closed with a silken click. A shiver chased down the rigid length of her spine. He hadn’t gone. She could feel him standing there trying to decide how best to tackle the fact that his wife had just come face to face with his mistress!
‘You were very rude.’ He began with a criticism.
Typical, she thought. Attack instead of defence. ‘I learned from an expert.’
‘I suppose you are referring to me?’