Marilyn Todd: Dark Horse

'Gibberish is better than bullshit, which is what you gave me, Leo. Bullshit — and no baby.' She suppressed a small burp. 'Now you're using my money to pay for a few pretty pictures, a new bath — and for what? To impress a man who grows roses, for gods' sake. Oh, those drapes are new.' She staggered over to finger the elaborate tapestries which graced the arches. 'At least you're putting my dowry to good taste.'

Leo's face coloured dangerously. 'This is neither the time nor the place to discuss the financial settlement, Lydia. I'll get someone to escort you ho- back.'

'Who says I'm going "back"?' Lydia retorted. 'Who says I might not decide to spend the night here? In one of the- how many bedrooms are we up to now, Leo? Ten?' She leaned over and helped herself to Claudia's wine. 'Ooh, you're new, too,' she purred. 'But you're out of luck, darling. If it's his money you're after, there is none. He lost it in those bloody vines, despite what he tells everyone, and he lost in half a dozen other hare-brained ventures, as well. Now the bastard's spent my divorce settlement on his wonderful refurbishments, so I'm in debt, too. God, I hate you, Leo. How I didn't see through you years ago I don't know!'

'Lydia, please,' Leo cajoled. 'You're embarrassing yourself.'

She turned her wine-laden breath upon Claudia once again. 'You're too old for him, sweetie. You're young and you're beautiful, but darling, you've got breasts. Has he told you how old she is, his little prepubescent bride? Thirteen. Can you believe that, sweetie?' Her laugh was bitter. 'Now if we'd had children, how do you think Leo would have felt about some middle-aged pervert taking his thirteen-year-old daughter to bed?'

'Enough!' Leo jumped to his feet. 'I will not have you inferring I'm some kind of depraved monster, simply for wanting an heir. It's a man's right, dammit, to continue the bloodline, and the girl hails from good breeding stock.'

'Stock. Yes. How sensitive you are, Leo, seeing her in terms of a prolific foaler.' Lydia staggered between the dining couches until she was eyeball to eyeball with Leo. 'Eighteen years,' she hissed. 'Eighteen years I put up with your boorish behaviour, your insufferable arrogance, and how am I repaid? I'm put out to pasture, while you fuck a child in my bed.'

Teetering, she knocked the table sideways, sending a salver of honeyed peaches slithering over the mosaic floor. The smell of split fruit exploded into the air. No one moved. All eyes were riveted on Lydia.

'Well, fuck you, and fuck the rose-grower's daughter. You're not my concern any more. I came here tonight to talk about Magnus.'

'Who's Magnus?' Claudia whispered, but Volcar flapped a hand to silence her.

'What did you tell him, Leo? What did you say to frighten him off? Or did you bribe my little marble man away?'

When she tried to laugh, it came out a throaty, unstable rumble. As though Lydia's tenuous hold on her emotions would give way any second to a stream of unstoppable tears.

'That would be the ultimate insult, wouldn't it? You buying off my suitor with my own money?' She waved her hand in weary dismissal as he opened his mouth. 'Oh, spare me more of your lies, Leo. I don't care what you told Magnus, it doesn't matter, really it doesn't. I don't want a man who can be bought off or bullied.' She paused for breath. 'But you went too far, Leo. Now it's my turn.'

'I'm trembling.'

'Mock all you like, but I'm still putting a stop to your marriage.'

'Impossible. I'm already wearing her betrothal medallion.

We exchange wedding rings on the girl's fourteenth birthday. Even you can't break the contract.'

'I don't intend to,' Lydia said, and there was a glint of triumph in her glazed eyes. 'You'll be the one doing the breaking.'

'That contract's sealed in law. No one and nothing can break it.'

'What if I say, "life and death", my dear darling husband? Life and death cut straight through signatures and seals.'

'Bollocks.'

Lydia let out a soft snort of contempt. 'Don't say I didn't warn you, Leo. Didn't I tell you I wasn't prepared to stand by while you wrote me out of your life like some cheap playwright editing a character out of his script?' She pounded his chest with two feeble fists. 'Dammit, I'm entitled to something, you bastard.'

'This isn't the-' he began, but at that point, Lydia's heel caught on a peach and, skirts flapping wildly, she tumbled backwards in an inelegant heap, landing on the low dining table and sending everything flying. Nikias gallantly lent a hand hauling her upright.

'Lydia!'

This was the first time Silvia had spoken since the visitor had burst in, and her voice was imperiously cold. She made no attempt to disguise her revulsion at the combination of bad language, bad behaviour and the food mashed into Lydia's clothes.

'Lydia, you're tired, you're obviously overwrought and… and it doesn't appear you've been eating properly,' she added in venomous euphemism.

'And since when have you been interested in my welfare, you self-centred cow?' Lydia snarled, ungraciously shaking off Nikias's arm. 'You bugger off without a word, you don't write, the family have no idea whether you're dead or alive, and suddenly wham! Up you turn, four years later, out of the blue. And where do you set up camp, you snobby bitch? With me, your darling long-lost sister? Or with Leo, because his house is grand and comfy?'

Claudia wondered whether anyone, above this furious interchange, had heard her gasp of astonishment. Silvia and Lydia were sisters? She knew, of course, that Leo was Silvia's brother-in-law, but she had blithely assumed the connection was on Leo's side. But yes, now you looked closer, you could see the family resemblance. Even though Lydia was ten years older and a brunette, the nose and high forehead were the same, as were the hands.

'Well, you've made your bed, baby sister, you can bloody well lie in it,' Lydia sneered. 'I just hope what you're giving him in it is worth it.'

'Right!'

Leo's tolerance finally snapped and grabbing Lydia roughly by the upper arm, he dragged her through the wide double doors on to the terrace.

'Qus!' he bawled, and his tall Ethiopian bailiff came running. 'Qus, will you please escort my lady wife home.' He closed the double doors firmly on Lydia's profanities. 'Messy things, family feuds,' he said to Claudia. 'I'm really sorry you had to be party to that ugly scene.'

'What did she mean,' she asked innocently, 'about only life and death being able to break a contract?'

That Leo had behaved so abominably was bad enough. That Claudia hadn't realized he was capable of such callous behaviour was unforgivable.

Silvia, her lips white, patted her immaculate ringlets and ran a finger over each elegantly plucked eyebrow. 'Vitriol always flows when my sister takes to the wineskin,' she said. 'Take no notice of Lydia.'

That, thought Claudia, wasn't the question. And you weren't the one I was asking. She glanced at Leo, his head tilted on one side, and wondered why Silvia had answered for him. And why he had let her. There was an undercurrent running between them. She had noticed it several times since her arrival. An undercurrent which was anything but sexual.

'For heaven's sake,' Leo snapped, 'let's have some music in here!'

Flautists and harpists launched into a cheerful tune, and an Indian girl clacked castanets as she danced.

'Come on, Shamshi, Nikias. Clap along,' Leo said, but his voice was strained, his jaw clenched. Why? Because be was embarrassed that his ex-wife had aired the dirty laundry in public? Or had it got to him that Lydia might, just might, be in a position to queer his forthcoming marital pitch?

Having dropped one stone into the pool and created a few ripples, Claudia tried another wee pebble for size. 'Who was this Magnus character Lydia mentioned?' she asked, adopting just the right air of disinterest. 'A marble merchant, didn't she say?'