"Freda Warrington - A Taste of Blood Wine" - читать интересную книгу автора (Warrington Freda)

David brought the Bentley to a halt. "Listen, old man, I wasn't going
to say this until later, but this seems as good a moment as any. I
didn't bring you here just for my sister's party. I wanted to see how
you like the place. When I become estate manager I'm going to need
a right-hand man. What do you say?"
"You want me to work for you?"
"With me, Edward. Can't think of a more reliable man for the job… "
Edward was silent for a few moments. "There must be better people
than a shell-shocked soldier. I'm a wreck, David, and you know it. I

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A Taste


don't want pity."
"You know me well enough to know it's not pity," David said
brusquely. "You can do the job, I need you, and I won't take no for
an answer."
A smile spread hesitantly over the lined features. "I'd like nothing
better."
"That's the spirit." David clapped him on the shoulder and started
the car again. "And while you're at it, propose to one of my sisters,
will you? Charlotte should suit you perfectly; she's a bit shy, but
take no notice. She's a lovely girl underneath."
"Actually, it's Madeleine I'm rather sweet on."
"Oh, that's what they all say. Why not be original?" They laughed
together.
Edward shook his head. "I don't know how many times I've said you
don't have to do anything for me, but I have to confess I'm glad."
"Good God, man, will you stop making it sound as if I'm doing you
a favour?" David said quietly. "You saved my life. I'm in absolute
bloody awe of you."

***
The two blows fell on Charlotte just before the party, one after the
other, like the soft double thump of a trap.
There was an hour to go before the guests would begin to arrive.
And in this lull—after the frantic business of dressing up in costume
—she stood with Fleur and Madeleine on the terrace, breathing in
the sweetness of the garden. In white shifts and long black wigs,

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their eyes striped with kohl and bracelets on their bare arms, they
looked as if they had stepped down from the walls of
Tutankhamon's tomb. In this rage for all things Egyptian, Madeleine
had chosen to be Cleopatra, Fleur and Charlotte her handmaidens.
Charlotte had mixed feelings about wearing fancy dress. In one way