25. Accommodations Cause an Issue
CHAPTER 25
ACCOMMODATIONS CAUSE AN ISSUE
N ear Cape Sounion
When the women’s carriage halted in front of a simple structure located near a sandy beach, the driver hopped down from his bench and opened the door. “Legrena,” he stated, waving in the direction of the water.
“The sand is so white,” Jane said in awe, stepping out of the carriage with the help of the driver.
“The water is so blue,” Barbara murmured, joining Jane to stare at the scene before them.
“The temple is magnificent,” Diana said, her hand lifted to her forehead to shade her eyes as she stared up at the cliff adjacent to the beach.
The other two followed her line of sight and both gasped. “Is that it? The Temple of Poseidon?” Jane asked in surprise.
“Indeed,” Diana replied.
“Elena will see to your rooms,” the driver said, indicating the older woman who had joined him. She was slightly bent, her back displaying a noticeable dowager’s hump. From the gaps apparent when she smiled, she was also missing a number of teeth.
The three women curtsied before they helped themselves to their valises, the groom having lined them up next to the carriage. They followed Elena into the building, waving when the older traveling coach carrying the men stuttered to a halt at the edge of the road directly in front of the lodgings.
Even before the equipage had completely stopped, David already had the door open and was hurrying to offer his arm to Jane.
“Are you well?” he asked, slightly breathless from his quick jog. He took her valise from her and then lifted her hand to his lips.
Jane dipped a quick curtsy and grinned as she placed her arm on his. “I am. It’s been a very pleasant trip.” She arched a dark brow. “And you, Lord Penton?”
“I spent most of it sleeping,” he admitted. “I wondered if I might be allowed a few minutes of your time?”
“Now?” she asked in surprise.
“Well... before we walk up to the temple,” he stammered. “I wish to speak with you on a matter of... well, some importance,” he said.
Jane inhaled softly. “All right,” she agreed. “Perhaps there is someplace inside where we might converse,” she hedged.
“Oh, we’ll want to eat something, too,” he said.
“Very well.”
B ehind them, Will rushed up to take Barbara’s valise from her. Despite the brim of the small hat she wore, he managed to land a kiss on her cheek. “You look especially fetching today,” he said, offering his arm.
She tittered before sobering. “You say that as if you hadn’t already seen me several times today,” she chided.
“I rather wish I could have spent the entirety of it with you,” he said.
Barbara glanced up at him, about to thank him for his regard when it dawned on her why he would say such a thing. “Was it terribly uncomfortable for you to be stuffed into that coach with all the boys?”
He chuckled. “Tight quarters, yes, but I certainly didn’t expect a history lesson,” he said. “Made the trip go by much faster, though.”
“Ancient history or... more recent?” she asked.
“A bit of both,” he murmured. “All is well, though. Or at least, I think it shall be by the time we return to Athens.”
Barbara widened her eyes. “Well, now you have me all curious.”
“Fear not. I shall tell you everything I know and all that I suspect,” he promised.
“I look forward to hearing about it,” she murmured.
M eanwhile, Randy had hurried to offer an arm to Diana. “How are you?” he asked, taking her valise from her hold. “I trust your ride was smoother than ours.”
She tittered at seeing how dusty their traveling coach had become during the trip from Athens. “It was comfortable enough. The conversation was... diverting, I suppose. A bit unexpected.”
They entered the white rectangular building, the shingle above the door painted with the words Legrena Hotel in Greek. After the brightness of a day that had grown almost too warm for comfort, the dim interior was blessedly cool. A rug covered most of the marble floor leading to a corridor that split off in opposite directions. To the left, Elena stood behind a marble counter bearing a line of ancient iron keys, and two young women, dressed alike, stood at the end of the counter ready to escort guests to their rooms.
Randy furrowed his brows, his gaze returning to Diana after his quick perusal of the place. “Did my aunt say something?—?”
“She was the perfect traveling companion. As was Miss Jane,” Diana said, arching a reddish-blonde brow. “I never even had a chance to read Pausanias’ account of this place.”
“Oh, don’t bother,” Randy said on a huff. “He got it all wrong on the very first page.”
About to ask what he meant, Diana’s attention was caught by one of the young women. Dressed in a tight-fitting vest trimmed with gold ornaments and a long, multi-layered skirt—one of red and the other of gold—her hair was covered with a translucent scarf secured beneath her chin. On her feet were tiny slippers, the fronts curled up to a point. She curtsied to them and indicated they should follow her.
Exchanging glances of confusion, they did her bidding and were soon in the first room off the corridor to the left. Furnished sparsely with only a bed, two wooden chairs, and a simple table, it featured a window with a view of the beach and the Aegean Sea. A pitcher and a bowl were perched on a stand next to the window.
The girl handed them a ring from which hung a key. She pointed to the door. “For locking,” she said in heavily-accented English. She once again curtsied and quickly took her leave.
Diana blinked. “Uh...” She turned to see Randy attempting to stifle a chuckle at the same moment Jane and David were being led past their open door by the other young woman. “Oh, dear. I think there’s been some misunderstanding,” she said in alarm.
“We’ll sort it,” Randy said, his amusement still apparent. He took two long steps to the open door and glanced out to discover Elena leading Barbara and Will to a room across the entry and down the opposite corridor. “I expect I’ll be sharing a room with Tom and—” He stopped speaking when he saw that Tom and Marcus were being led by their escort to the room right next to the one into which Barbara and Will had disappeared. Behind them, Antonio entered the last room.
Joining him at the door, Diana peeked around the corner to the left to see Jane doing the same thing as she was, although Jane was displaying an expression of shock. Diana was about to wave for Jane to join her, but before she could do so, Jane disappeared into the room, the heavy wooden door shutting with a thud . “No,” she whispered, a hand going to her mouth. She turned to stare at Randy, her eyes rounding with worry.
“He’s not going to do anything untoward,” Randy said in a quiet voice.
“Does it matter? They’re in a room. By themselves,” she argued. “And the door is closed.”
“As are we,” he said at the same moment his coach driver appeared with his small trunk. “ Sas efcharistó ,” he said, pulling a coin from his pocket to give to the man.
“Our door is open,” she stated.
Randy dipped his head. “I think David just needs a moment with her. I’ll move to that room and she can come here when they’re finished,” he explained.
Diana inhaled softly. “Is he... is he breaking it off with her ? Their... their betrothal?” she stammered.
The way she asked had Randy furrowing his blond brows. “Was she planning to break it off with him?”
Clamping her mouth shut, Diana picked up her valise and moved it to the table. She withdrew a bath linen and moved to the window, removing her straw bonnet as she did so. “It’s really not for me to say,” she murmured.
About to press for more information, Randy decided he would learn of the couple’s situation later. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing?”
“Washing my face,” Diana replied, pouring some of the water into the bowl. She dipped the linen into the water and drew the wet cloth over her upraised face, sighing as she did so.
Randy watched from where he stood, swallowing at the sight of her. Given the brightness beyond the window, she practically appeared in silhouette. He was reminded of when they had been on the roof watching the shooting stars, her dressed in only a night rail and appearing almost ethereal in the darkness. He could imagine pulling her into his arms and kissing her, pressing his forehead to hers as he used a thumb to caress her cheek and the edge of his palm to push away the riot of fine reddish-blonde curls that framed her face. He was sure he would discover a sprinkling of freckles on her otherwise porcelain complexion.
“I’d like to go up to the temple right now,” she said. “While there is plenty of light.”
Pulled from his reverie, Randy blinked. “I’ll escort you,” he offered. He watched as she extracted her leather satchel from her valise. “Did you wish to change clothes?” He waved toward the door. “I can wait for you out in the entry.”
“No,” she replied. “I wore an old gown for a reason, and I don’t wish to take the time,” she added, lifting the strap of her leather satchel over her head so it rested on the opposite shoulder. “The sun is already past its zenith.”
Suppressing the urge to groan at seeing how the satchel strap accentuated her bosom, Randy said, “I could carry that for you.”
“Thank you, but you’re going to carry this,” she said, pulling a small wooden box from the valise. She handed it to him.
“What is it?” he asked, hefting the rectangular box featuring a brass clasp and and a pair of hinges to determine it wasn’t very heavy. He tucked it under an arm.
“My paint box.” She extracted another wooden device from her valise and handed it to him. “Here’s the easel.”
He arched his brows in surprise as he took what appeared to be a number of square wooden sticks with brass bolts at the end of them. “How can this be an easel?” he asked in confusion.
“It’s all collapsed now, of course, but when it unfolds, it makes for a serviceable stand,” she said, waving a hand in the air dismissively.
“Do you have a canvas?” he asked, tempted to glance into the valise. Had she even brought any clothes?
“I’ve one in here along with my sketchpad,” she said, tapping the satchel as she hurried to the door.
He moved to join her, offering his arm. “Does the fact that you’re going to be painting mean you’re not going to look for inscriptions?” he asked, managing to sound disappointed as they made their way past the marble desk—he nodded to Elena as they did so—and out the door.
She gave a start. “Of course I am. I plan a thorough walk all the way around the stylobate,” she replied, referring to the base of the temple. “But given there aren’t any cellae, I expect I’ll only find carvings on the square columns or on the blocks of the stylobate.”
“I’m told Lord Byron’s name can be found on one of them,” he said.
“No doubt,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
Randy glanced back at the hotel. “Aren’t you... hungry?”
She shook her head, but paused to open her satchel. She reached in and pulled out a linen cloth wrapped around some dates, figs, olives, and a hunk of goat cheese. Offering him the food, she watched as an expression of happiness appeared on his face.
“Oh, bless you, Miss Diana,” he said, helping himself to a few of the fruits before they resumed walking up the steep road to the temple.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Saturday,” she replied, smirking.
Seeing her expression of amusement, Randy realized she was teasing him, but he wasn’t about to ask what had her using the odd name. Besides, the uphill trek had them struggling to catch their breath and made conversation difficult.
They were entirely breathless when they reached the top, both stopping to stare at the Temple of Poseidon.