shirt.
"What are you doing?" he asked, squinting at the ledger like volume she was supporting on her culotte -dad knees. "What is it? Myths and legends?"
She looked up. "I'm looking for the Lydros legend," she told him levelly. "You don't have any objections, do you?"
Alex lifted the huge book out of her hands. "As a matter of fact, yes."
Charlotte screwed up her face disappointedly. "Oh, don't take it away," she pleaded. "I'd just found it."
Alex closed the book with a distinct thud. "Why are you so curious about our legend?" he demanded.
"Why shouldn't I be?" she protested, getting out of her chair, slim and youthful in the vivid blending of blues and greens to be found in her culotte suit. She stretched out her hand to take the book again. "Alex, please! Don't be mean!"
He smiled then, a lazy teasing smile, that did strange things to her lower limbs, so that despising the weakness, she flopped down into her chair again. Her lips curved sulkily, and Alex regarded her with knowing amusement.
"All right," he said at last, and her eyes widened. "If you're so determined to hear it, I'll tell you. It's quite simple really. Lydros — that was the god's name, of course - rescued a beautiful maiden from the wreck of a vessel come to grief on the rocks around our coastline." He paused. " Lydros fell in love with the girl, but she thought he was old and ugly, and. she was terrified of him. But he made her live on the island, and gradually, over a period of time, she came to know him and care for him. He didn't know this, until he finally took pity on her and offered to send her away, and she refused to go. That's all there is to it."
"Oh, I like it!" Charlotte had been listening intently, and now she leaned forward, her chin cupped in her hands. "It's almost like the story of Beauty and the Beast, isn't it?" she breathed. "Except that the girl's father wasn't involved. h- "
She broke off suddenly and stared at him, and Alex's mouth turned down at the corners. He turned away and thrust the book back into its place on the shelves. "Beware the Beast ! " he remarked mockingly, and left the room.
Charlotte turned to stare after him, her brow furrowed. Now she knew why he had not wanted her to read the story. There were too many similarities to her own situation. She turned back, and grimaced at her hands. But Alex was not old - or ugly - and she was no longer afraid of him.
Pressing her hands down on the arms of her chair, she got to her feet again, and padded slowly through to the lounge. Alex was standing by the drinks trolley, helping himself to a large scotch. Even as she watched, he threw the raw spirit to the back of his throat, wincing slightly at the onslaught. Then he seemed to sense that he was not alone, for he half turned and saw her in the doorway. He frowned down at his empty glass for a moment, and then with a shrug replaced it on the tray.
"Well?" he said. "Have you finished reading for this evening?"
Charlotte nodded. "Alex, I -! want you to know, I had no idea..."
His lips twisted. "No idea about what?"
"Oh, you know what I meant The legend, that story!"
"What about it?"
His eyes were narrowed and challenging and she sighed impatiently. "Alex, you know what I'm trying to say. You're not making it very easy for me."
He ran a hand over his thick hair, coming to rest at the back of his neck. Then he gestured with his free hand towards the trolley. "Can I offer you a drink?"
Charlotte scuffed her bare toe against a skin rug. "No. I'm not thirsty."
"Are you going to sit down, then?" he suggested, indicating a nearby couch.
"Why won't you talk about it?" she burst out at length as he walked over to the turntable to change the record. "I know you think there are comparisons to our situation, but it's not really similar. I mean - well, I'm not afraid of you."
Alex straightened and looked at her. "Aren't you?" he asked quietly.
"No." Charlotte took a deep breath. "And you're not old, or — or ugly."
Alex
"What are you doing?" he asked, squinting at the ledger like volume she was supporting on her culotte -dad knees. "What is it? Myths and legends?"
She looked up. "I'm looking for the Lydros legend," she told him levelly. "You don't have any objections, do you?"
Alex lifted the huge book out of her hands. "As a matter of fact, yes."
Charlotte screwed up her face disappointedly. "Oh, don't take it away," she pleaded. "I'd just found it."
Alex closed the book with a distinct thud. "Why are you so curious about our legend?" he demanded.
"Why shouldn't I be?" she protested, getting out of her chair, slim and youthful in the vivid blending of blues and greens to be found in her culotte suit. She stretched out her hand to take the book again. "Alex, please! Don't be mean!"
He smiled then, a lazy teasing smile, that did strange things to her lower limbs, so that despising the weakness, she flopped down into her chair again. Her lips curved sulkily, and Alex regarded her with knowing amusement.
"All right," he said at last, and her eyes widened. "If you're so determined to hear it, I'll tell you. It's quite simple really. Lydros — that was the god's name, of course - rescued a beautiful maiden from the wreck of a vessel come to grief on the rocks around our coastline." He paused. " Lydros fell in love with the girl, but she thought he was old and ugly, and. she was terrified of him. But he made her live on the island, and gradually, over a period of time, she came to know him and care for him. He didn't know this, until he finally took pity on her and offered to send her away, and she refused to go. That's all there is to it."
"Oh, I like it!" Charlotte had been listening intently, and now she leaned forward, her chin cupped in her hands. "It's almost like the story of Beauty and the Beast, isn't it?" she breathed. "Except that the girl's father wasn't involved. h- "
She broke off suddenly and stared at him, and Alex's mouth turned down at the corners. He turned away and thrust the book back into its place on the shelves. "Beware the Beast ! " he remarked mockingly, and left the room.
Charlotte turned to stare after him, her brow furrowed. Now she knew why he had not wanted her to read the story. There were too many similarities to her own situation. She turned back, and grimaced at her hands. But Alex was not old - or ugly - and she was no longer afraid of him.
Pressing her hands down on the arms of her chair, she got to her feet again, and padded slowly through to the lounge. Alex was standing by the drinks trolley, helping himself to a large scotch. Even as she watched, he threw the raw spirit to the back of his throat, wincing slightly at the onslaught. Then he seemed to sense that he was not alone, for he half turned and saw her in the doorway. He frowned down at his empty glass for a moment, and then with a shrug replaced it on the tray.
"Well?" he said. "Have you finished reading for this evening?"
Charlotte nodded. "Alex, I -! want you to know, I had no idea..."
His lips twisted. "No idea about what?"
"Oh, you know what I meant The legend, that story!"
"What about it?"
His eyes were narrowed and challenging and she sighed impatiently. "Alex, you know what I'm trying to say. You're not making it very easy for me."
He ran a hand over his thick hair, coming to rest at the back of his neck. Then he gestured with his free hand towards the trolley. "Can I offer you a drink?"
Charlotte scuffed her bare toe against a skin rug. "No. I'm not thirsty."
"Are you going to sit down, then?" he suggested, indicating a nearby couch.
"Why won't you talk about it?" she burst out at length as he walked over to the turntable to change the record. "I know you think there are comparisons to our situation, but it's not really similar. I mean - well, I'm not afraid of you."
Alex straightened and looked at her. "Aren't you?" he asked quietly.
"No." Charlotte took a deep breath. "And you're not old, or — or ugly."
Alex
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