‘I’ve been finding out. And when we know this last thing-’
Then you’ll trust me, she thought. But not until then.
Was she making too much of it? she wondered. He’d come looking for her, desperate to stop her leaving him. Wasn’t that enough?
But it wasn’t. What still lived in her mind was the look that had fleetingly been on his face when disaster had struck. It had been a look of appalled betrayal, saying that she was no different from all the others. Now something must happen to wipe it out, but she had a terrible fear that nothing ever could.
The house was as they had left it, except that then it had been infused with joy. That had vanished now and its silence was the deadly silence of fear.
Lysandros wasted no time. Gathering tools from the shed, he strode out, through the grounds, under the trees, to the place where Brigitta and her child lay, incongruously at peace. Somehow Brigitta seemed a very real presence now, crying out to Lysandros to remember only her love and forget all else.
In the end he’d managed to do that. But too late.
‘Why is he doing this?’ Petra asked her spirit. ‘Can he really only love and trust me when he has something tangible to hold? Isn’t there anything deep inside him that tells him the truth? Those times when our hearts were so close that we were like one, do they count for nothing now?’
She thought she could hear Brigitta’s melancholy cry, echoing from Hades, the underworld, across the River Styx and down the centuries. There was no hope in that sound.
Lysandros’s shout broke into her thoughts. He’d been hard at work, digging, scrabbling around the grave. Now there was a look of triumph in his eyes.
‘Got them,’ he said, holding something up.
‘What have you found?’ she asked.
‘Bugs. Tiny microphones powerful enough to pick up anything, including what we said to each other.’
So she was cleared. She waited for the surge of joy that this should have brought her, but nothing happened.
‘So this place was bugged,’ she said.
But her heart was still waiting for him to say that he would have believed in her anyway, even if he’d found nothing. Desperately hoping, she nudged him in the right direction.
‘But how do you know that I didn’t come here earlier and put them there?’
If only he would say,
Instead, beaming and oblivious to the undercurrents, he said, ‘Of course you didn’t. Look at them, they’re old. They’ve been here for years. Nikator must have had spies that told him about this place and bugged it long ago. He’s just been waiting for his moment.’
‘Ah, I see. So the evidence clears me.’
‘Of course it does.’
He scrambled up out of the grave and seized her shoulders.
‘Darling, can’t you see how wonderful this is? It makes everything right.’
‘Does it?’ she whispered.
He barely heard her words and totally missed her meaning.
‘Come here,’ he said, pulling her to him, kissing her fiercely. ‘Now nothing can part us again.’
He seized her hand and began to run back to the house, his face shining with happiness. Upstairs, he kicked in the door of his bedroom and drew her swiftly down on the bed. She had a split second to make up her mind, whether or not to go through with this, for she knew that they were coming to the end. But for that very reason she would allow herself this one last time.
She made love to him as never before, giving him not just her body, but a heart infused with sorrow. Everything in her belonged to him. Soul and spirit were his, and there would never be anyone else. He had spoiled all other men for her, and she would live with that. But she could no longer live with him.
With every tender gesture, every whispered word, she bid him farewell. Each caress was a plea for him to remember always that she had loved him utterly and always would, even though their ways must now lie apart.
They reached their moment together and she saw him smiling down at her in triumph and relief, something that had always been her peak of joy. Afterwards he held her tenderly, protectively, and she had to struggle not to weep.
‘Thank goodness,’ he said fervently. ‘We so nearly lost each other.’
To him it was all so simple. He hadn’t faced the inevitable yet, but she must face it for both of them.
‘Lysandros-’
‘What is it, my darling?’
‘Don’t you realise that we
‘No, how can we? We know how it was all done now. The whole newspaper thing was fake, he had us followed to the Achilleion by someone who eavesdropped on what we said, and now we’ve found the evidence that clears you.’
As soon as he said the last words he knew what he’d done. She saw it in the sudden dismay that swept over his face.
‘Yes,’ she said sadly, ‘you needed evidence to clear me because my word alone wasn’t enough.’
‘Don’t,’ he interrupted her hurriedly. ‘Don’t say it.’
‘I have to. I’m going away-at least for a little while.’
‘No. I won’t let you go. I’ll make you stay until you see sense-’ He heard himself and screwed up his eyes in dismay. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘It’s all right. I love it that you want me, but perhaps it isn’t right for us. If you only knew how much I’ve longed for you to believe in me anyway, in the face of all the evidence. Now it’s too late.’
‘But we’ve just made everything right.’
‘My dearest, we’ve made nothing right. Can’t you see that? We made love, and it was beautiful, but real love is so much more than passion. I know what to do when I’m in your arms. I know the caresses you can’t resist, just as you know the ones that affect me. We know how to tempt each other on and on until we explode with desire, and for a while that seems enough. But it soon passes, and then we have to see the distance between us.’
‘It doesn’t have to be there,’ he said harshly. ‘We can overcome it.’
She loved him for his stubborn belief. She would have given anything to yield to it and it broke her heart to refuse, knowing that she was breaking his heart in the process.
She remembered how he’d raced to the airport to stop her leaving, caring nothing for her guilt or innocence as long as he kept her with him. Surely that was enough? But he was an acquisitive man. What was his had to remain his. There might be no more in his possessiveness than that. It wasn’t enough to build on.
If only, she thought desperately, there was still something that could happen-something that could give them hope for the future-but the last chance had gone. He had the evidence in his hands now, and evidence made blind trust unnecessary.
It was too late. Nothing could happen now.
‘You’re saying that I’ve failed you,’ he grated. ‘You can’t forgive me.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she said passionately. ‘What was done to you was terrible, and it’s not your fault that it’s scarred you. But it has. You can’t really believe in anyone now, even me. I thought I could help you but I can’t. Please try to understand.’
A dead look came into his eyes.
‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘Of course you must go, because I let you down, didn’t I? Get out while you can. Get out before I destroy you as I did her.’
He dressed hurriedly and walked out without looking back. Shattered, she stared after him. This was what she’d planned, but now it was here it was terrible. Throwing on her clothes, she hurried out after him.
As soon as she reached the head of the stairs she knew that something had happened. The door to the cellar stood open. Through it she could see a light and hear voices.
She knew who would be there before she entered. Lysandros stood by the far wall, his eyes fixed on Nikator, who aimed a small pistol at him.
