I’ll Bring You Buttercups. Elizabeth Elgin

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ morning, he thought with savage disdain, she had screeched at him like a fishwife, showing a side to her not all the iron gold in the world had been able to breed out. There was a defiance about her that screamed, ‘All right, my fine aristocrats – so you’ve got the breeding, but I’ve got the brass, and don’t ever forget it!’

      He was ashamed of her, of his own mother; ashamed of the half of him that came from trade, even though his other half – his Sutton blood – was without equal. It was a pity his father could hardly bear to be in the same room with him, let alone treat him like a son to be proud of, because he, Elliot, was tall and handsome, and charming too, when he needed to be, and could get any woman he wanted with no effort at all. He was rich as well, and would be richer one day, so why did everyone seem to prefer his younger brother? Why did Julia show preference for Nathan when she knew he’d end up a parson, with nothing in his favour but his sick-making goodness?

      But Albert had had the right idea. Albert had found himself a well-heeled old woman – and the best of luck to him! His youngest brother had struck it rich, and lived a life of luxury in the best hotels and on the most luxurious liners in the world. Clever young Albert!

      Elliot climbed the boundary fence, making for the rising ground and Holdenby Pike. There would be a wind up there, even in May, that would blow away his black mood. Up there he could look down on Pendenys Place and wonder how long before it was his; could wonder, even, what it was like to bed an old woman, for his brother’s wife must be well into her forties. Did Albert, on such occasions, close his eyes and think of the money that would one day be his? Come to that, would he, Elliot, have to close his eyes too when he wed the ugly daughter of a penniless peer, and think instead of Maudie’s soft, warm lips, her small, round breasts, her eager thighs?

      He wished, sometimes, that he belonged to the working class and could marry any Maudie he pleased, but the working classes had to work, it was as simple as that. He would marry fairly soon, he supposed; some simpering, well-bred virgin bitch with more titles to her pedigree than was decent. She might even have one in her own right. Mama would like that; she’d envy it, but still she’d like it.

      But there would be no title for Elliot Sutton. That had eluded him. All Mama’s money had failed to buy the knighthood she so desperately wanted for her husband – to pass down to her son, of course. The Garth Suttons had that. Cousin Robert, just one year older, had inherited the baronetcy at twenty-four, then hared it back to Assam to his precious tea garden. And even supposing Robert never married, never got a son, then Giles would inherit the title. It would remain at Rowangarth for another three hundred years, like as not. Only if his cousins were to vanish from the face of the earth would his father get lucky.

      God! Imagine Mama; Lady Clementina at last! She’d be good for a touch, then; would even forgive him his Maudies, provided he kept them quiet and didn’t rock the boat. Yet it would never be, he knew it. The Garth Suttons would hang on to what they had. Though they were nowhere as well-off as the Suttons at the Place, they had the esteem of the entire Riding, which was better than riches.

      Temper spent, he flung himself down on the grass, lit a cigarette, then gazed down on Pendenys. He felt badly done by, and bored, misunderstood and miserable. He would go to London, keep out of Mama’s way until the edge had worn off her temper. His allowance had just been paid into the bank – where better to spend it?

      Or maybe Leeds? Mama had said it, hadn’t she? Take yourself off to London, or Leeds even. Maybe she was right. Women were cheaper there, easier to find. The better-class whores frequented the music halls; were always available in the promenade area at the rear of the theatre. Buy one a drink and a deal was struck almost before she’d had time to say, ‘Cheers, young squire!’

      He would go to Leeds. Now. He could be there before dark if he shifted himself. For once, he’d do exactly as he was told.

      ‘You look lovely, Miss Julia.’ She did. Really, really beautiful. And not just the long dress nor the pink shoes peeping out beneath it, nor the hat. She was beautiful all over; her eyes, her smile – even the way she walked. And all because of Andrew MacMalcolm.

      ‘You’d better take this.’ Alice offered a parasol.

      ‘Oh, no. I won’t need a sunshade.’

      ‘You take it. Never know who you might meet. You can always hide behind it if you have to.’

      ‘But why should I hide? You’ll be with me, all perfectly correct …’

      ‘No, miss. I shall come with you as far as the bandstand and wait with you, till he comes. Then I shall have to excuse myself. There’ll be the tea to see to and things to do and I’ll expect you –’

      ‘Hawthorn! You darling; you absolute love!’ She grasped Alice’s hands and swung her round in a little dance. ‘I promise I’ll be good. I will.’

      ‘And you’ll be back here at half-past three, prompt, for tea,’ Alice ordered grimly, “cos if you aren’t, I’ll come looking for you, and I mean it!’

      ‘Then I promise we shall be – word of a Sutton. But what if he doesn’t come? What if something goes wrong and he’s needed at the hospital and we wait and wait …’

      ‘Then the bandstand is the best place to be, isn’t it, because we can sit there as if we’re waiting for the music to begin and nobody’ll know that – well – he’s –’

      ‘Left me in the lurch.’

      ‘Exactly. But he won’t, so take your parasol and let’s be off. Don’t want him waiting there, thinking you’re not coming, now do we?’

      He was waiting. He was there, looking handsomer than ever, and his smile as he walked to meet them set Julia’s heart thudding deliciously.

      ‘Miss Sutton. Miss Hawthorn.’ He raised his hat, giving each a small, polite bow, and Alice could see why Julia Sutton had fallen head over heels, because if it hadn’t been for Tom she could, quite easily, have done the same.

      ‘Shall we walk, ladies, or shall we listen to the concert? The choice is yours.’

      ‘I thank you, sir, but I find,’ Alice said primly, trying to say it as Miss Clitherow would, respectful yet genteel, ‘I find I’m not able to accept your kind offer. I – I have things to do, but the kettle will be on,’ she looked directly at her employer, an eye to eye gaze that allowed for no misunderstanding, ‘at three-thirty, if you’re of a mind to take tea.’

      ‘Then I thank you, ma’am.’ Andrew MacMalcolm tipped a finger to his hat, his face serious, his eyes bright with merriment. ‘And I shall take good care of Miss Sutton and bring her safely home on the dot of half-past three.’

      ‘Thank you, sir. Bid you good day, then.’ For no reason she was sure of, but maybe because her warning had been a little too blunt, she bobbed a curtsey which put her back in her place again, and made everything all right.

      ‘Isn’t she a dear?’ Julia smiled as they watched her walk away.

      ‘You’re fond of her, aren’t you?’

      ‘Very fond.’

      ‘And she of you, Miss Sutton. It’s easy to see.’

      ‘Hawthorn is fond of the whole wide world,’ Julia laughed, ‘She’s in love – walking out seriously.’

      ‘And СКАЧАТЬ