Смерть на Ниле / Death on the Nile - стр. 4
He felt very hopeful. That refusal of hers had not been at all a definite refusal. It had been little more than a plea for time. Well, he could afford to wait a little…
How amazingly suitable the whole thing was. It was certainly advisable that he should marry money, but not such a matter of necessity that he could regard himself as forced to put his own feelings on one side. And he loved Linnet. He would have wanted to marry her even if she had been practically penniless, instead of one of the richest girls in England. Only, fortunately, she was one of the richest girls in England…
His mind played with attractive plans for the future. The Mastership of the Roxdale perhaps, the restoration of the west wing, no need to let the Scotch shooting…
Charles Windlesham dreamed in the sun.
Chapter 5
It was four o’clock when the dilapidated little two-seater stopped with a sound of crunching gravel. A girl got out of it – a small slender creature with a mop of dark hair. She ran up the steps and tugged at the bell.
A few minutes later she was being ushered into the long stately drawing room, and an ecclesiastical butler was saying with the proper mournful intonation:
‘Miss de Bellefort.’
‘Linnet!’
‘Jackie!’
Windlesham stood a little aside, watching sympathetically as this fiery little creature flung herself open-armed upon Linnet.
‘Lord Windlesham – Miss de Bellefort – my best friend.’
A pretty child, he thought – not really pretty but decidedly attractive with her dark curly hair and her enormous eyes. He murmured a few tactful nothings and then managed unobtrusively to leave the two friends together.
Jacqueline pounced – in a fashion that Linnet remembered as being characteristic of her.
‘Windlesham? Windlesham? That’s the man the papers always say you’re going to marry! Are you, Linnet? Are you?’
Linnet murmured:
‘Perhaps.’
‘Darling – I’m so glad! He looks nice.’
‘Oh, don’t make up your mind about it – I haven’t made up my own mind yet.’
‘Of course not! Queens always proceed with due deliberation to the choosing of a consort!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Jackie.’
‘But you are a queen, Linnet! You always were. Sa Majesté, la reine Linette. Linette la blonde! And I–I’m the Queen’s confidante! The trusted Maid of Honour.’
‘What nonsense you talk, Jackie darling! Where have you been all this time? You just disappear. And you never write.’
‘I hate writing letters. Where have I been? Oh, about three parts submerged, darling. In JOBS, you know. Grim jobs with grim women!’
‘Darling, I wish you’d-’
‘Take the Queen’s bounty? Well, frankly, darling, that’s what I’m here for. No, not to borrow money. It’s not got to that yet! But I’ve come to ask a great big important favour!’