Voyage of Innocence. Elizabeth Edmondson
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Название: Voyage of Innocence
Автор: Elizabeth Edmondson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007438280
isbn:
‘Hello,’ said Claudia, fixing Petrus with her most dazzling blue look.
He was a slender man, quite tall, with very pale fair hair combed back from his forehead. He had a mouth that Vee found slightly disturbing, but the most remarkable thing about him were his dark grey eyes, watchful, clever, penetrating eyes.
‘Claudia, my dear, how lovely to see you.’ He gave her a brushing kiss on one cheek and then on the other, and made a little bow to Lally. ‘Our American visitor, I assume. Miss Fitzpatrick, isn’t it? I had the pleasure of meeting your father when last I was in Chicago. I’m sure he will win a seat in the Senate, and then we may expect great things from him.’ His eyes moved to Vee. ‘Ah, the Yorkshire cousin. Hugh Trenchard’s sister, I believe. Good evening Miss Trenchard. You honour us this evening.’
Vee could feel a flush creeping over her face. Was he being ironic? She was infuriated to find herself both flustered and overwhelmed by this man. He wasn’t handsome in any film-star kind of way, but he made the other men around look diminished. Except for Alfred, who had his own energetic personality wrapped around him like a cloak.
As for clothes, the two men couldn’t have looked more different. Alfred was wearing an appalling pair of grey flannel trousers, held up with an Eton tie, she noticed, and his usual shabby pullover. Petrus, in contrast, was wearing an immaculately tailored suit and a dashingly embroidered waistcoat.
‘Call her Vee, everybody does,’ said Claudia, manoeuvring so that she stood beside her host. ‘This looks as though it’s going to be a lively party.’
Vee had no desire to stand there with Petrus’s sardonic eye upon her, so she edged backwards and slid towards the window.
At first glance, although much more eccentric or dowdy or casual in their dress, she would have said the guests were the same as at any other party; people who knew one another extremely well and probably met each other every day, and who therefore had lots to talk and gossip about.
Then her ears tuned in to the conversation. No, this wasn’t the desultory chitchat of York parties. Arguments were raging all about her; people were giving their opinions with an intensity and at a volume that was never found in the drawing rooms of Yorkshire. They were discussing politics. Or international trade. Or the rights of the workers.
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