Название: By Marriage Divided
Автор: Lindsay Armstrong
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
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Domenica’s lips parted incredulously, then she took hold to say a little grimly, ‘Chris, the man rubs me up the wrong way and now Mum is calling him Angus and he’s calling her Barbara!’
‘I think I know why he rubs you up the wrong way.’
Domenica gazed at her sister. ‘You do?’
‘Uh-huh. He’s not your type of man. You generally go for—’ Christy gestured ‘—more…more diffident men.’
‘I—do?’
Christy smiled a little wryly. ‘You must admit you like to be in control of yourself, Dom. You always have. That’s why you and Mum clash sometimes, it’s why you’ve had the single-mindedness to make a success of Primrose, it’s why you sometimes come across as a bit high and mighty. But, so far as your love life goes, I don’t think it’s been such a good policy for you.’
Domenica reached dazedly for another glass of champagne from a nearby table and regarded her little sister rather as an owl awoken in the middle of the day might. ‘And I thought you lived in a world of your own, Christy,’ she marvelled. ‘How long have you been cherishing these sentiments about me?’
This time Christy grinned impishly. ‘A few years,’ she confessed. ‘But I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t seen you and Angus Keir striking sparks off each other and I’m only saying it now because I don’t think it’s ever happened to you before and—’ she broke off and grimaced warily ‘—well, you could regret it if you don’t go for it—I think you deserve to live a bit.’
‘So does he—think that,’ Domenica commented a bit grimly.
‘There you go, then. It has been tough and you have been such a rock since Dad died.’
‘No, Christy, there I do not go. If it had come up any other way—’ Domenica shrugged ‘—who knows? But in these circumstances, it’s a bit like being held to ransom.’
‘Oh, well. But he is rather gorgeous.’
Christy’s sentiments stayed with Domenica for the next half-hour, causing her to be a little preoccupied. Then something happened that put a different complexion on things. She’d managed to avoid Angus, although it could be seen that he was quite at ease and generating a lot of interest amongst her mother’s circle of friends.
But she happened to be standing next to him, although half turned away and talking to someone else, when Barbara’s clear tones and perfect diction made themselves heard in a slight lull.
‘Keir and, no, I’d never heard of the name either—new money, of course,’ she was explaining to someone, ‘but you really wouldn’t be able to tell he’s a self-made man.’
The whole party missed a beat but only for a nanosecond, then it continued to flow but in that second Domenica caught sight, out of the corner of her eye, of Angus’s fingers tightening around the stem of his glass, then deliberately relaxing. In the next second, she made a surprising decision.
She turned fully to him and, cutting across the conversation, said, ‘I’ve changed my mind. I will have dinner with you, if you’re still of the same mind. The only problem is—’ she smiled at him charmingly ‘—I’m starving so the sooner we go, the better.’
His eyes narrowed and he paused, as if debating something, then he said formally, ‘It would be my pleasure, Miss Harris.’
It wasn’t until they were in his Range Rover, driving away from her mother’s house, that they spoke directly to each other again.
‘What about your previous engagement, Domenica?’
She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I actually said I was otherwise engaged. Which was true. I was planning to do my washing and ironing but there’s always tomorrow for that.’
‘Believe me,’ he said dryly, ‘you didn’t have to give up a date with your washing and ironing on account of your mother’s unguarded tongue.’
‘Well, I thought I did, Angus.’ She used his first name for the first time. ‘I may look…stuck-up—’ she raised her eyebrows ‘—but I’m not really and I thought it was unforgivable—what she said.’
He made no further comment until they were seated in a restaurant of his choice that was renowned for its food. But not only the food was exceptional, the ambience was superb. Each table occupied its own wood-panelled alcove with burgundy banquettes that you sank into against the lovely grain of real leather, while your feet sank into a thick-pile watermelon-pink carpet.
There were wall sconces dispensing soft light and candles on the tables. The napery was white damask, the cutlery heavy silver, the glasses crystal and between their alcove and the next stood a tall porcelain vase filled with arum lilies and lilies of the valley that were delicately scenting the air.
It was, Domenica knew, one of the most expensive restaurants in town. Also the hardest to get into without booking way in advance. Which caused her to wonder if Angus Keir had been that sure of her or whether, because of his wealth and frequent patronage, he was always welcome.
Then he looked at her thoughtfully across the candle. ‘Did you really have your washing and ironing on your mind when you knocked me back the first time?’
Domenica had ordered mineral water and closed her hands around the frosted glass. ‘To be honest, no. I…’ She hesitated then shrugged. ‘There are times when you make me nervous.’
‘And what do you think I should do about that?’
‘Don’t rush me, Mr Keir,’ she advised, then bit her lip. ‘Look, all I’m trying to do is make amends for my mother.’
‘Domenica—’ a little glint of amusement lit his eyes ‘—believe me, I’m not that thin-skinned. It really doesn’t bother me to be thought of as “self-made” or new money.’
She frowned. ‘I think it would bother me. And whether you like to admit it or not, I think there was an instinctive reaction.’
His lips twisted. ‘You think right,’ he confessed, ‘but it was very fleeting.’
‘I also,’ she ploughed on, ‘well, some of the things you’ve said to me plus my sister’s assurance that I can be a lot like my mother, or at least unwittingly look and sound like her, have made me feel uncomfortable and as if I was bunging on “side”. I really didn’t mean to.’
He sat back. ‘Thank you for all this—’ he looked at her gravely ‘—but if you’re picturing me as having an enormous chip on my shoulder about old money and new money, rightly or wrongly, I don’t. I’m thirty-six,’ he added wryly. ‘I’ve come a long way from the back of Tibooburra—so, yes, sometimes the odd little pinprick touches a nerve, but for the rest I couldn’t give a damn. Take me or leave me in other words, but you don’t have to go on apologizing.’
Their entrée was served at this point.
Domenica had chosen calamari and it was delicious. She ate most of it while she thought out a response. ‘What if I still decide—’ she wiped СКАЧАТЬ