The Greek Tycoon’s Disobedient Bride

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’re 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.

The clothing discarded in the master bedroom spoke of Ophelia’s recent presence and Lysander breathed a little easier. Her priceless pearl and diamond necklace lay on the dressing table alongside her wedding ring. He fell still, his attention welded to the ring, his wide shapely mouth tightening. There was no sign of luggage, no suggestion that she was packing to go anywhere this time around. Why should she run away? he asked himself angrily. She had no reason to take off again. Why was he even thinking this way?

Ophelia was potting up plants she had divided in one of the newly renovated Edwardian greenhouses. The work had cost a fortune, but the previous poly-tunnels had offended Lysander’s aesthetic sensibilities. Her eyes were still overflowing. She sniffed and wiped them irritably on the sleeve of her oversized sweater. She was annoyed that she was being so emotional. She had got the man of her dreams and the baby of her dreams was probably on the way as well. Wasn’t there always a serpent in paradise? So, it was a tad demeaning to learn that the man you loved was only making the best of things with you. Well, what had she expected?

Lysander thrust open the door of the greenhouse.

‘What are you doing here?’ Ophelia spun back to the bench in haste before he could notice her damp eyes. He looked outrageously out of place in his formal business suit with a striped silk tie and gold cufflinks gleaming at his wrists.

‘When you said you wanted a break from me, what did you expect me to do? Just get on with my working day?’

‘Yes.’

Feeling the full injustice of that comment, Lysander breathed in slow and deep. ‘Did Virginia upset you?’

‘She’s lovely-and, no, she didn’t upset me.’ Her golden head was bent as she potted up another plant. ‘But realising why I’m still your wife came as something of a shock.’

‘So, let me into this secret and the shock it dealt you,’ Lysander invited.

‘Don’t be flippant,’ Ophelia warned him shakily, scooping up compost and piling it into a pot. ‘Let me tell you how it went. Virginia was ill and you were ready to move heaven and earth to buy this house for her. That’s why you married me and why you said we had to pretend it was a genuine marriage after the paparazzi reported our wedding. You didn’t want her to find out how far you were prepared to go on her behalf.’

‘Yes,’ Lysander agreed without a shade of hesitance.

Ophelia had hoped he would argue and tell her she had got it all wrong. His agreement of those facts cut her to the quick. The pot she was filling furiously with compost began to resemble a miniature Mount Everest. ‘Then you realised that Virginia was delighted that you had married and you decided you might as well hang on to me to keep her happy.’

‘No.’

In the tense silence, Ophelia continued to build the compost mountain to a towering height. ‘Why are you saying no?’

‘I hope I am a good son, but I’m not an idiot. It would be insane to stay married to a woman I didn’t care about. When did you get the impression I was that much of a wimp? Or so unselfish? You’re underestimating me, yineka mou,’ he told her softly.

Ophelia stole a wary glance at him. ‘So tell me your side of the story…’

Lysander paced forward and gently turned her round, turning up her wrists and tugging off her gloves. ‘My well-laid plans went belly-up around the same day that I decided I had to buy a four-poster bed in which to put you-’

Pale blue eyes perplexed, Ophelia stared at him. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘And that was the day after I met you. My reasoning processes were operating on a different frequency from that moment on. I should have stuck to business. You were supposed to be a business arrangement.’ His lean, darkly handsome features were grave. ‘But even though I believed you’d tipped off the paps, I still couldn’t wait to get you into bed.’

Ophelia had turned pink.

‘I began to make strange decisions. I forgave you for the tabloid interview you did. I decided we had to have a honeymoon. When you walked out on me on Kastros, there was nothing I wouldn’t have done to get you back, up to and including cancelling the island’s ferry service-’

‘Really?’ Ophelia was perking up, flattered by that confession. ‘Would you have sunk that low?’

‘It comes naturally.’ Metallic-bronze eyes raked over her heart-shaped face. ‘Like loving you.’

‘Loving me?’ she squeaked half an octave higher. ‘Since when?’

‘It feels like for ever, agape mou. How should I know? I never felt this way about any woman before, so obviously you were very special from the start. You wrecked my favourite car and what did I do? I laughed when you told a bad joke about it!’ Lysander curved his hands to her slim hips and lifted her up onto the high stool by the potting bench so that their heights were more on a par. ‘We have a great time together. I miss you when you’re not with me. I can’t wait for you to have my baby.’

It was a declaration of love beyond what she had ever hoped to receive from him. Yet no sooner had she heard it, than she knew she should have realised how much he cared simply by the way he was treating her. The passion had long been blended with warmth, tenderness and respect. Her heart was singing with happiness inside her. ‘I guess you’re not just with me because your mother likes me-’

‘I would just have kept you apart if she hadn’t. It would not influence how I feel about you.’ Long brown fingers framed her cheekbones and tilted her face up. ‘For better or worse, you are my choice and my wife.’

‘And totally, madly in love with you,’ Ophelia confided unevenly, emotion clogging up her vocal cords. ‘I felt so lonely until you came along. That’s one of the reasons I was so desperate to find Molly-’

‘In another year she’ll be eighteen and hopefully she’ll decide to look into her past. I’m having enquiries made about her early years with you. It could be helpful to establish who her father is, in case there’s a connection. But your details are waiting for Molly on the adoption contact register,’ he reminded her as he leant down to her, brilliant eyes intent. ‘Now tell me how much you love me.’

There was a hunger in his beautiful eyes that touched Ophelia and she reached up and kissed him with fierce love and appreciation. ‘So much a whole lifetime wouldn’t be enough to show you,’ she swore passionately. ‘Do you really think my sister will get in touch?’

‘I believe so, but you may have to be patient.’ Lysander smoothed her golden hair back off her brow. ‘You should have told me that Aristide had an ongoing affair with Cathy.’ As her eyes widened he sighed. ‘Virginia thought I should know. No wonder you were so hostile when we first met. Aristide really did work your family over-’

‘He got in touch with Mum again when I was a toddler and it wrecked my parents’ marriage. He wandered in and out of her life for about ten years. I only saw him a couple of times because they met up in hotels. It was kind of sleazy…’

Lysander pressed a reassuring fingertip to her tremulous lower lip. ‘It was love of a kind. Obviously he couldn’t stay away. I know the feeling. I can’t stay away from you, agape mou.’

He bent his handsome dark head and claimed her soft mouth with a ravishing sweetness that left her trembling. They walked hand in hand back to the car and he settled her in and drove off down the lane that led back to the house. She watched him with her heart in her eyes, every fear assuaged, secure in his love and loyalty.

‘Oh, yes, there’s just one more thing…I may be pregnant!’ she announced.

Lysander took his attention off the rough surface of the lane to look at her in surprise and pleasure. His charismatic smile lightened his lean dark features.

‘We’ll know for sure in another few days…oh, no, watch the wall!’ Ophelia shrieked as the nearside wing of the big car grazed the stone boundary.

‘No goat jokes, agape mou,’ Lysander warned as he braked to a halt.

But Ophelia was having a hopeless fit of the giggles and although she tried to be tactful and hold them in, she couldn’t.

Eighteen months later, Ophelia lifted her daughter out of Lysander’s arms.

Shush…, she mouthed in silence, but there was no need to warn him. The entire household knew that Poppy only slept a handful of hours a day and was very demanding in between times. She had her father’s live-wire energy-and his adoration. A nanny had joined the staff, but only when Lysander had managed to persuade Ophelia that she didn’t need to exhaust herself to prove that she was a good mother.

Weary after a busy afternoon sitting in her buggy watching her mother working in the garden, Poppy snuggled into her cot. She had blonde curls, big dark eyes and an adorable smile, a combination that Ophelia reckoned would someday make her a stunningly attractive young woman. Just now she was a very pretty baby, much admired by everyone and positively worshipped by her grandmother. Lysander was totally enjoying being a father, and Haddock was singing nursery rhymes again.

Ophelia had had a straightforward pregnancy, although she had got fed up with the physical restrictions created by her bulky shape in the later stages. Putting her feet up and resting had proved a severe challenge for someone who preferred to be active. Lysander had gone to great lengths to keep her entertained while Virginia and Pamela had proved wonderfully supportive.

Virginia was maintaining her good health and spent regular weekends at Madrigal Court. Ophelia had persuaded the older woman to help her with the redecoration and colour schemes for the house and had soon left her in complete charge, for Virginia had great taste and Ophelia much preferred to be outdoors. The once-glorious gardens were in the process of being restored and Ophelia now had a team of gardeners to help her. She got on very well with her mother-in-law. Encouraged by Virginia’s simple elegance, Ophelia dressed up a little more often and could now handle all sorts of social occasions without batting an eyelash. At the centre of her assurance was the reassuring knowledge that her husband loved and wanted her no matter what she wore and no matter what she did.

Lysander and Ophelia had only recently returned from a week on Kastros. They walked downstairs and out onto the newly built terrace that overlooked the moat and the glorious gardens. The lush grounds were full of spectacular colour and provided a magnificent setting for the wonderful old house. Pre-dinner drinks were served. Lysander reached for Ophelia’s hand. ‘I have something I want to tell you and I don’t know how you’ll take it.’

Ophelia tensed. ‘Is it about Molly?’

‘No, no further advances in that field, I’m afraid,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘But what I have to tell you does relate to your family. There is a slight chance that you have another sibling.’

Ophelia held tight to his hand and frowned up at the lean, strong face that she loved so much. ‘Another sibling? Are you serious?’

Lysander began to explain. He had been over in New York on business where he’d met the man who was to have been Aristide’s best man when he married Ophelia’s mother, Cathy. ‘In those days, Petros was a close friend of Aristide’s and I asked him if he knew why they broke up. I wasn’t really expecting an answer,’ he said wryly, ‘but Petros told me that Cathy had admitted to Aristide that she had given birth to a child before she met him and that it had all been hushed up. Aristide was shocked and furious and immediately broke off the engagement.’

‘My word…’ Ophelia raised her hand to her parted lips, her astonishment unhidden. ‘Did you believe him? Do you think it was only a nasty rumour that he heard? Or did he genuinely believe in the story?’

‘Petros is no gossip and it was Aristide who told him. Aristide shared only the barest facts: that a little boy was born to your mother at a private hospital and the baby’s father took charge of him.’

Ophelia shook her head in wonderment. ‘You’re saying that I may have an older brother out there somewhere.’

‘It’s a possibility. Don’t get too excited until we have something more solid to go on,’ Lysander warned her. ‘You’re not upset?’

‘My goodness, no. It’s very sad, though. My mother could only have been a teenager.’ Ophelia sighed as they walked back indoors for dinner. ‘She really wasn’t very good at picking men-’

‘But you are,’ Lysander cut in, lowering his handsome dark head to claim a long, drugging kiss that reduced her to quivering compliance in his arms. ‘You picked me, agape mou.’

Her crystalline eyes danced. ‘Only because you were willing to pay the water charges. But you didn’t accept the cash I offered you.’

Much amused, Lysander grinned down at her in the Great Hall. ‘No, and then you used the money for something else!’

‘Did I?’ Ophelia was very much disconcerted by that information. ‘Oh, that’s right-I gave the money I owed you to the vicar for the church roof fund.’

‘It was still the best investment I ever made, Mrs Metaxis.’

‘Lysander’s my hero!’ Haddock carolled on cue from the corner, carefully coached as he had been to react to the name Metaxis with what Ophelia deemed to be a more socially acceptable response.

Unfortunately, Lysander had proved less impressed than she had hoped.

‘Well, you are my hero,’ Ophelia pointed out, leaning against her husband and gazing up at him from below her lashes with a look of unashamed admiration and contentment. ‘I love you very much.’