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The Burning Shore - Smith Wilbur (электронную книгу бесплатно без регистрации .txt) 📗

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IT, I wonder if Mama is watching, Anna. I wonder if she knows I am wearing her dress, and if she is happy for me? Anna grunted as she went down on her knees to check the hem. Centaine smoothed the delicate old lace over her hips and listened to the muffled sound of men's laughter from the grand salon on the floor below.

I am so happy that the general could come. isn't he a handsome man, Anna, just like Michel? Those eyes, did you notice them?

Again Anna grunted, but with more emphasis, for a moment her hands faltered as she thought about the general.

Now that is a real man, she had told herself, as she watched Sean Courtney step down from the Rolls and come up the front staircase of the chdteau.

He looks so grand in his uniform and medals, Centaine went on. When Michel is older, I will insist that he grows a beard like that. So much presence There was another burst of laughter from below. He and Papa like each other, don't you think, Anna? Listen to them!

I hope they leave some cognac for the other guests Anna gnunped, and hoisted herself to her feet, then paused with one hand on the small of her back as a thought struck her.

We should have laid out the blue Dresden service rather than the Sevres. It would have looked better with the pink roses. You should have thought of that yesterday, Centaine cut in quickly. I'm not going to go over all that again. The two of them had worked all the previous day and most of the night to reopen the grand salon which had been closed ever since the servants left. The draperies had been floury with dust, and the high ceilings so laced with cobwebs that the scenes from mythology that decorated them were almost obscured.

They had finished the cleaning red-eyed and sneezing before beginning on the silver, which had been all tarnished and spotted. Then each piece of the red and gold Svres dinner service had to be washed and hand-dried.

The comte, protesting volubly, A veteran of Sedan and the army of the Third Empire forced to labour like a common varlet', had been dragooned in to assist.

Finally it had all been done. The salon once again splendid, the floor of intricately fitted and patterned wooden blocks glossy with wax, the nymphs and goddesses and fauns dancing and cavorting and chasing each other across the domed ceiling, the silver aglitter and the first of Anna's cherished roses from the greenhouse glowing like great gems in the candlelight.

We should have made a few more pies, Anna worried, those soldiers have appetites like horses. They are not soldiers, they are airmen, Centaine corrected her, and we have enough to feed the entire Allied army, not merely a single squadron, Centaine broke off. Listen, Anna! Anna waddled to the window and looked out. It is them! she declared. So early! The drab brown truck came puttering up the long gravel drive, looking prim and old-maidish on its high narrow wheels, the back crowded with all the off-duty officers from the squadron, the adjutant at the wheel with his pipe clamped in his jaws and a fixed and terrified expression on his face as he steered the vehicle on an uneven course from one verge of the wide driveway to the other, loudly encouraged by his passengers.

Have you locked the pantry? Anna demanded anxiously. If that tribe find the food before we are ready to serve Anna had enlisted her cronies from the village, those who had not fled the war, and the pantry was an Aladdin's cave of cold pies and pAstas and the wonderful local terrines, of hams and apple tarts, of pigs trotters with truffles in aspic, and a dozen other delights.

It's not the food they have come for so early in the day. Centaine joined her at the window. Papa has the keys to the cellar. They will be well taken care of. Her father was already halfway down the marble staircase to greet them, and the adjutant braked with such abruptness that two of his pilots landed in the front seat with him in a tangle of legs and arms.

I say, he cried in obvious relief at being once again at a standstill, you must be the jolly old count, what? We are the advance guard, how do you say it in French, le d'avant garde, don't you know? Ah, to be sure! The comte seized his hand. Our brave allies. You are welcome! Welcome! May I offer you a small glass of something? You see, Anna, Centaine smiled as she turned back from the window, there is no need to worry. They understand each other. Your food will be safe from them, for a while at least.

She picked up the wedding veil from the bed and arranged it loosely over her head, and studied herself in the mirror.

This must be the happiest day of my life, she whispered. Nothing must happen to spoil it. Nothing will, my child, Anna came up behind her and arranged the filmy lace of the veil upon her shoulders.

You will be the loveliest bride, what a pity that none of the gentry will be here to see you Enough, Anna, Centaine told her gently. No regrets.

Everything is perfect. I would not have it any other way. She cocked her head slightly. Anna! Her expression became animated. What is it? Do you hear? Centaine spun away from the mirror. It's him. It's Michel. He is coming back to me. She ran to the window, and unable to contain herself, she hopped up and down, dancing like a little girl at the window of a toy shop.

Listen! He is coming this way! She could recognize the distinctive beat of the engine that she had so often listened for.

I don't see him. Anna was behind her, screwing up her eyes, looking upwards in the ragged clouds.

He must be very low, Centaine began. Yes! Yes! There he is, just above the forest. I see him. Is he going to the airfield in the orchard? No, not with this wind. I think he's coming this way. Is it him? Are you sure? Of course I'm sure, can't you see the colour? Mon petit jaune! Others had heard it also. There were voices below the window, and a dozen of the wedding guests trooped out through the french doors of the salon on to the terrace.

They were led by Sean Courtney in the full dress uniform of a British general, and the comte even more resplendent in the blue and gold of a colonel of the infantry of Napoleon I'll.

They all carried their glasses and their voices were raised in mounting spirits and cheerful camaraderie.

That's Michel all right, someone called. I'll bet he's going to give us a low-level beat-up. Take the roof off the chateau, you'll see! It should be a victory roll, considering what he's got in store.

Centaine found herself laughing with them, and she clapped her hands as she watched the yellow machine approaching, then her hands froze an instant before they came together.

Anna, she said, there is something wrong. The aircraft was close enough now for them to see how irregularly it was flying, one wing dropped and the machine yawed and dipped towards the tree-tops, then pulled up sharply, and its wings wobbled, and then it dropped on the opposite side.

What's he up to? The timbre of the voices from the terrace changed. By God, he's in trouble, I think The SE5a began a meandering, purposeless turn to starboard, and they could see the side of the damaged fuselage and the torn wing surfaces as it banked. It looked like the carcass of a fish that had been attacked by a pack of sharks.

He's been badly shot up! one of the pilots yelled.

Yes, he's hard hit. The SESa turned back too steeply, the nose dropped and almost hit the trees.

He's going to try for a forced landing! Some of the pilots jumped over the wall of the terrace and ran out on to the lawns, frantically signalling to the crippled aircraft.

This way, Michael! Keep the nose up, man!

Too slow! screamed anther. You'll stall her in! Open the throttle. Give her the gun! They shouted their futile advice, and the aircraft settled heavily towards the open lawns.

Michel, Centaine breathed, twisting the lace between her fingers and not even feeling it tear, come to me, Michel. There was one last row of trees, ancient copper beech, with the new leaf buds on their gnarled branches just beginning to pop open. They guarded the bottom of the lawns furthest from the chAteau.

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