enjoyment of rediscovered freedom of movement after long months of hampering constraint.
Goodness, what a joy it was to feel oneself again after all this time, when her body had seemed to belong not to her but to an increasingly alien burden! Even the memory of the hours of agony she had endured in this very bed was fading fast, swept away on the tide of time into the thick mists of oblivion.
She shook aside a heavy lock of hair which was tickling her cheek and smiled at the housekeeper.
'Donna Lavinia, I'm hungry. What time is it?'
'Nearly nine o'clock, my lady. You have slept for almost twelve hours. Are you feeling better?'
'Much better. A few more hours' sleep and I shall be quite myself again.'
Meanwhile, Lavinia had been busy helping her young mistress to sit up amid a nest of pillows and was bathing her face with a cloth moistened with a fragrant lotion of verbena. That done, she laid the black lacquered tray on her knees.
'What have you brought me?' Marianne asked, finding her interest in food abruptly revived.
'Vegetable soup, roast chicken and fruit stewed in honey, with a glass of Chianti. The doctor says a little wine can do you no harm.'
Everything disappeared very speedily, and the modest meal seemed to Marianne the most delicious thing in the world. She was savoring each small physical pleasure of recovery with such intensity that she had no time as yet for the moral dilemmas which would intrude themselves all too soon.
She swallowed the last drop of wine with a sigh of satisfaction and sank back among her pillows, ready to slip back into the sleep which at that moment seemed the most desirable state of being. But then something stirred beyond the curtain which hung over the door. A hand put it aside, revealing the tall figure of Prince Corrado, and all Marianne's sense of well-being was gone in an instant.
He was the last person she wanted to see just then. In spite of the white turban, set with a turquoise stone, which swathed his proud head, she thought he looked a sinister figure in his black caftan, unadorned save for the broad dagger thrust through the silken sash. He was the personification of the dark shadow on her life, the evil genius that dogged her steps. Or was it the symbol of a troubled conscience which would not leave its owner altogether at peace?
Watching him as he came toward her, he struck her as more than ever like a black panther.
He crossed the big room silently with his easy stride until he reached the foot of the bed. Donna Lavinia had dropped a curtsy and vanished, taking with her the empty tray.
For a moment the two partners in this unlikely marriage stared at one another without speaking, and once again Marianne began to feel uneasy. This man had a strange capacity of making her always feel in some indefinable way in the wrong.
Not knowing what to say, she sought for something neither stupid nor clumsy and then, remembering that she had just presented him with what must surely give him pleasure, she decided to smile and make the effort.
'Are you pleased?'
He nodded but his dark face remained unsmiling. And when he spoke it was in the low, measured tones that she remembered hearing for the first time from the other side of a mirror, a voice that seemed burdened with all the sorrows of the world.
'I have come to bid you farewell, my lady. Farewell and thank you for performing so magnificently your part in the contract between us. I must not inflict on you any longer a presence which must revive unpleasant memories for you.'
'Never think that,' Marianne cried impulsively. 'You have been very good to me, and very kind. Why must you leave me so soon? There is no hurry.'
She meant it. For the life of her, she could not have said what made her say it. Why was she trying to keep her strange husband by her when all her hopes were now centered on Jason and she looked forward to a life of happiness with him?
The prince smiled, the shy smile which sat with such a curious charm on that face as of a heathen god.
'It is kind of you to say so, but there is no need to pretend or try to make me believe the impossible. I came to tell you that you are free now to live your own life. Thanks to you, I have a son and heir. Now you may follow your own destiny wherever it may lead you. I will help you, for it is my greatest wish to see you happy… Whatever you decide to do, whether you continue to bear my name or whether you wish to be rid of it as soon as possible, be sure that I shall still see to it that you want for nothing.'
'Sir!' Marianne protested, her pride stung.
'Do not be offended. I mean the mother of my son to continue to enjoy the position which is hers by right of birth and beauty. You may remain here until you are quite recovered and when you wish to leave one of my ships will take you wherever you wish to go.'
She smiled again, with an unintentional touch of coquetry.
'Why must we talk of this tonight? I am still very tired and my thoughts are a little confused. Tomorrow I shall be better and we can consider together—'
He seemed to be on the point of saying something but suddenly thought better of it and instead bowed deeply in the eastern fashion and murmured quickly: 'Permit me to bid Your Highness a good night.'
'But—' Marianne began in some bewilderment. Then she broke off, understanding the reason for his sudden change of attitude. Trembling with joy, she watched the door thrust open by a masterful hand and Jason stepped into the room.
She realized at once the reason for Corrado's withdrawal and made no attempt to detain him. It would not be fitting for Turhan Bey to pay more than a brief courtesy visit to his guest, the Princess Sant'Anna. In fact, she had ceased to be aware of his presence at all. Her eyes, her heart and her whole mind were focused on the man who had just entered.
The two men, however, greeted one another with the utmost politeness and Jason's voice sounded unwontedly deferential for a slave owner as he said: 'I have to thank you, Turhan Bey, for your advice and counsel. If I may, I should like to come and discuss it with you shortly. I must see you before I leave.'
'Come whenever you like, Mr. Beaufort. I shall be expecting you.'
He went away at once after that. But Marianne had grasped only one thing from this exchange of civilities. Jason had spoken of leaving! Almost before the door had closed behind the prince, she had framed the question— and made up her mind.
'You are leaving? Then I am coming with you.'
Jason walked unhurriedly up to the bed and, bending, took her hand and dropped a swift kiss on it. Then, still holding it between his own, he looked at her with a smile which did not reach his eyes or smooth out the anxious creases from his brow.
'We have always agreed that I was to go, and that it would be tonight,' he said bluntly, yet with as much gentleness as he could.
'As to coming with me, you know quite well that is impossible.'
'Why? Because of my condition? But that is all over! I am quite well, I assure you! To go with you, I have only to be carried down to the landing stage and from there a boat will take us straight to the
But his face held no hint of a smile.
'Yes, that would be easy enough, but your health is not the only difficulty.'
'Then what is it?' she cried angrily. 'Your own feelings? You don't want to take me, is that it?'
Her face was very flushed and her eyes a little too bright, as though with a fever. Jason tightened his clasp on her hands, which felt suddenly burning hot to his touch.
'I cannot take you,' he corrected her firmly but very gently. 'For one thing, you are not as strong as you think and it will be several days yet before you can leave your bed. You have been through a perilous ordeal and the doctor is adamant. But that is not the main reason. I cannot take you because it is quite simply impossible. Turhan Bey has been with you. Did he say nothing?'
'Should he have? I have only just woken up and had my supper. He only came in to say good evening…'
'Then I'll explain what has happened.'
Sitting on the edge of the bed to be nearer to her, Jason gave Marianne a rapid sketch of what Gracchus and O'Flaherty had discovered.
