Come The Vintage. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ not my guest, he’s yours,’ she managed, biting her lips to stop them from trembling.

      ‘He is our guest,’ Alain corrected her shortly. ‘Stop behaving so childishly. So – the meat is not thoroughly cooked! No one expects you to produce a perfect meal at the first attempt.’

      ‘Oh, thank you. That’s very reassuring to know!’ she exclaimed with heavy sarcasm.

      He thrust his hands into the hip pockets of his trousers, tautening the cloth across his thighs. ‘I make allowances for your immaturity, little cat. Be thankful that I do.’

      Ryan turned her head away, her eyes smarting from tears suppressed. ‘I don’t remember inviting you into my room, monsieur. Aren’t you supposed to knock before entering a lady’s bedroom?’

      The exclamation he made was half anger, half amusement. ‘You are determined to challenge me, are you not, little one?’ he commented quietly. Then he turned towards the door. ‘Very well. You have five minutes to tidy yourself, and then you will join the good Abbé and me for dessert. Do I make myself clear?’

      Ryan turned to face him protestingly. ‘I don’t want anything else.’

      ‘Maybe not.’ His eyes assessed her in a way that caused the blood to quicken in her veins. ‘You had no breakfast, did you? In spite of what I said. Your colour is high at the moment, but underneath you are pale. It is food you require, little one. Perhaps not the steak, I admit, but maybe some soup would not come amiss, eh?’

      Ryan’s stomach heaved restlessly. ‘There is no soup.’

      ‘There are tins. Even I am proficient with a tin opener.’ He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. ‘You are all right now?’

      Ryan hesitated, and then she nodded. And she was. It was true. Although he had not sympathized with her, his quiet words had restored a little of her confidence. The knowledge surprised her.

       CHAPTER THREE

      RYAN and Alain de Beaunes were married three weeks later in the small church of St. Augustine in the village of Bellaise. The service was conducted by the Abbé himself, and as neither Ryan nor Alain had any close family present it was a very quiet affair.

      During those weeks preceding the wedding, Ryan felt herself to be living in a vacuum. The whole structure of her life had changed drastically and become slightly unreal, so that she found it hard to absorb what was going on around her. Most particularly her relationship with her future husband.

      It was the time of year after the excitement of the grape harvest when a certain amount of anti-climax crept into the production of the year’s vintage. The initial pressing of the grapes had been achieved, and the juice transferred to casks for fermentation. Only time would tell whether the matured wine would measure up to their expectations, and consequently Alain was often at home, working in his study, and Ryan could never completely relax when he was in the house.

      He had taken her, as her father had done, down to the winery, and she had descended with him into the massive stone cellars where there were casks of wine which had been maturing for a number of years. He had seemed determined that she should learn the basic fundamentals of the business, and had spent some time explaining the various difficulties they could encounter. She had met the elderly Breton again who had worked for her father, and his father before him, and shivered in the vaultlike caverns between the rows of vats.

      The Ferrier vineyards bottled their own wine, and Alain showed her the small plant. He explained how later in the process the wine would be put into bottles and corked, and then inverted in racks to collect impurities on the cork. Afterwards, he said, these corks would be removed and the bottles recorked. In making a good red wine a certain amount of the crushed flesh of the grape was left in the juice during the initial stages of fermentation, but the finished product was required to have a clarity free of all sediment.

      During these almost educational tours of inspection, Ryan could almost forget the improbability of their relationship. It was only when one or other of their employees congratulated Alain on his good fortune that the truth possessed her in all its terrifying reality. During the long nights when sleep was often elusive, she lay imagining the frightening possibilities of what she was about to do. What did she really know of this man who was to be her husband? The fact that her father had cared for him and depended upon him meant little to her. The relationship between two men was vastly different from the relationship between a man and his wife. The power over her which this marriage would give Alain de Beaunes was not to be considered lightly, and she had no sure way of knowing that he would keep his word about anything.

      Her only companions during those weeks before the wedding were the old priest, and Marie, the girl from the village whom Alain had employed to help her. Marie was a year older than Ryan, and her initial shyness gave way to a genuine affection for the younger girl. In her way, she understood Ryan’s doubts about the marriage, although her reasons for so doing differed from Ryan’s own.

      To Marie, it was all so simple. Alain de Beaunes was very much a man, all the women in the village thought so, whereas Ryan was little more than a child. Naturally she was anxious that he should not be disappointed in her, self-conscious about the physical aspects of the marriage. But that was nothing to worry about. The monsieur was no amateur, she had heard, and she would without doubt find experience something infinitely pleasurable to gain.

      Ryan supposed that compared to Marie she was child-like. Her knowledge of the opposite sex was limited to several furtive embraces on the doorstep of her aunt’s house after youth club socials and the like. She had never had a steady boy-friend, preferring her own company to that of some youth who seemed to think he owed it to himself to attempt to paw her about, and whose conversation was confined to television and the latest group on the pop music scene. Her upbringing had been rather old-fashioned, but through choice rather than direction.

      And Marie could not have been further from the truth with regard to her coming marriage. The physical side of that relationship was something she did not hope to gain any experience of.

      Marie on the other hand had had two lovers already, and had lost count of the number of boys she had known. She found Ryan’s innocence rather touching, and tried, in her friendly way, to reassure her. From time to time Ryan had seen Marie’s eyes resting rather enviously on the broad shoulders and lean face of the master of the house, and had realized that a man like Alain de Beaunes would have no difficulty in finding a woman to satisfy his male appetites. The knowledge disturbed her somewhat, though she didn’t know why it should. It was of no interest to her how many women he chose to make love to, and no doubt, after they were married, she would feel grateful to those other women for diverting his attention from her.

      After the wedding ceremony Ryan and Alain and the priest drove back to the house.

      Ryan was glad to get home and change out of the white wedding dress which Marie had insisted on lending her. As Ryan had neither the time nor the inclination to buy a wedding dress of her own, she supposed she ought to have been grateful to the girl for providing something suitable for her to wear. But the slightly yellowed lace gown, which had already been worn by several members of Marie’s family, had been made for much more voluptuous curves than Ryan possessed, and consequently it hung on her slim shoulders and looked quite dreadful to her eyes.

      Alain wore a suit of navy blue suede which fitted his powerful body closely. Ryan had not seen it before, and its darkness accentuated the intense lightness of his straight hair. СКАЧАТЬ