Read Online A Place of Storms by Sara Craven - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sara Craven
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delivered up and the arms laid down."' He shook his head. 'Not exactly passionate stuff, is it?'
Andrea laughed. 'Nor was "I came, I saw, I conquered", ' she pointed out. 'But there's an endearing matter-of-factness, about it, just the same, a suggestion of the inevitable being bowed to once again. However, I can see why you prefer Vercingetorix. There's a lot to be said for a folk-hero who goes on behaving heroically even when he's lost.'
He smiled delightedly at her. 'That's just what I feel. You've seen his statue, of course, in Clermont-Ferrand. It's an enormous thing. God, this tea! You must be dying of thirst. It's only condensed milk, I'm afraid.'
Andrea suppressed a shudder. 'Lovely,' she said weakly.
But when she took an experimental sip from the steaming mug he handed her, she found it altogether better than she had expected.
Alan dumped himself down on the edge of the camp bed and grinned at her. 'It's marvellous to meet someone else who can speak English. French isn't my strong point, I'm afraid. Of course, Monsieur Levallier speaks English too, but he isn't really the sociable type.'
'No,' Andrea said constrainedly, and he looked up in sudden alarm.
'Oh hell, I haven't put my foot in it, have I? Was it you that drove in last night! Are you staying at the chateau? I suppose you're a friend of his.'
Andrea stared at the floor. In a way,' she acknowledged.
There was a prolonged silence and when she looked up, she saw that Alan's ears and as much of his face as remained visible above the beard had turned bright red.
'I didn't mean to pry,' he mumbled, avoiding her glance.
To her annoyance, she found she was blushing in turn.
'You're quite wrong,' she protested. 'I am staying at the chateau, as a matter of fact, but…' She hesitated, completely at a loss as to how to explain. She couldn't tell him the truth, obviously, but it seemed wrong to involve him in her deception. She decided to compromise. 'I'm here on business, actually. Monsieur Levallier and I have some— negotiations to discuss.'
'Oh.' His face cleared. 'Actually I didn't think… I mean, you don't look the type. Oh, lord, here I go again! What I'm trying to say is that he's obviously knocked around a hell of a lot. I imagine he'd want someone who could match his own experience. Not that you aren't very attractive,' he added punctiliously.
She had to smile. 'Thank you, kind sir, she said.'
He grinned too. 'Well, you know what I mean,' he said plaintively.
She was nevertheless glad when they deserted personalities and returned to the thesis he was writing, and the local history he had acquired during his stay in the area. She learned that he had been living in the gatehouse for over six weeks, and planned to stay for another month at least.
'Perhaps we could eat out together one evening,' he suggested eagerly. 'I know I look as if I'm living on the breadline, but I do have some money. There's quite a good place at Craudon. Transport's a bit of a problem though. Could we use your car, d'you suppose?'
She looked at him in dismay. 'I—I don't have it any more.'
'Oh.' He digested this for a moment. 'What happened to it?
'It was a hired car. I think it had to go back to Clermont-Ferrand.'
'Oh, that's a pity,' he said cheerfully. 'But I'm sure we'll get round it somehow. Jean-Luc Gabrier has a motor-bike. He might lend it to us for the evening.'
'Wonderful!' she agreed, wondering faintly how Blaise Levallier would react to the news that his future wife was careering round the countryside on the pillion seat of a borrowed motor-cycle. One thing was certain, it wouldn't be any more uncomfortable than Delphine.
She glanced at her watch and gave a start of dismay.
'Heavens, it's late! I must go.'
'I'll be in touch,' Alan promised. He got up and accompanied her down the stairs to the door. She had started away across the courtyard when she heard him call cheerfully, 'Goodbye, Andrea!'
Oh God, she thought frantically, her stomach churning
Andrea laughed. 'Nor was "I came, I saw, I conquered", ' she pointed out. 'But there's an endearing matter-of-factness, about it, just the same, a suggestion of the inevitable being bowed to once again. However, I can see why you prefer Vercingetorix. There's a lot to be said for a folk-hero who goes on behaving heroically even when he's lost.'
He smiled delightedly at her. 'That's just what I feel. You've seen his statue, of course, in Clermont-Ferrand. It's an enormous thing. God, this tea! You must be dying of thirst. It's only condensed milk, I'm afraid.'
Andrea suppressed a shudder. 'Lovely,' she said weakly.
But when she took an experimental sip from the steaming mug he handed her, she found it altogether better than she had expected.
Alan dumped himself down on the edge of the camp bed and grinned at her. 'It's marvellous to meet someone else who can speak English. French isn't my strong point, I'm afraid. Of course, Monsieur Levallier speaks English too, but he isn't really the sociable type.'
'No,' Andrea said constrainedly, and he looked up in sudden alarm.
'Oh hell, I haven't put my foot in it, have I? Was it you that drove in last night! Are you staying at the chateau? I suppose you're a friend of his.'
Andrea stared at the floor. In a way,' she acknowledged.
There was a prolonged silence and when she looked up, she saw that Alan's ears and as much of his face as remained visible above the beard had turned bright red.
'I didn't mean to pry,' he mumbled, avoiding her glance.
To her annoyance, she found she was blushing in turn.
'You're quite wrong,' she protested. 'I am staying at the chateau, as a matter of fact, but…' She hesitated, completely at a loss as to how to explain. She couldn't tell him the truth, obviously, but it seemed wrong to involve him in her deception. She decided to compromise. 'I'm here on business, actually. Monsieur Levallier and I have some— negotiations to discuss.'
'Oh.' His face cleared. 'Actually I didn't think… I mean, you don't look the type. Oh, lord, here I go again! What I'm trying to say is that he's obviously knocked around a hell of a lot. I imagine he'd want someone who could match his own experience. Not that you aren't very attractive,' he added punctiliously.
She had to smile. 'Thank you, kind sir, she said.'
He grinned too. 'Well, you know what I mean,' he said plaintively.
She was nevertheless glad when they deserted personalities and returned to the thesis he was writing, and the local history he had acquired during his stay in the area. She learned that he had been living in the gatehouse for over six weeks, and planned to stay for another month at least.
'Perhaps we could eat out together one evening,' he suggested eagerly. 'I know I look as if I'm living on the breadline, but I do have some money. There's quite a good place at Craudon. Transport's a bit of a problem though. Could we use your car, d'you suppose?'
She looked at him in dismay. 'I—I don't have it any more.'
'Oh.' He digested this for a moment. 'What happened to it?
'It was a hired car. I think it had to go back to Clermont-Ferrand.'
'Oh, that's a pity,' he said cheerfully. 'But I'm sure we'll get round it somehow. Jean-Luc Gabrier has a motor-bike. He might lend it to us for the evening.'
'Wonderful!' she agreed, wondering faintly how Blaise Levallier would react to the news that his future wife was careering round the countryside on the pillion seat of a borrowed motor-cycle. One thing was certain, it wouldn't be any more uncomfortable than Delphine.
She glanced at her watch and gave a start of dismay.
'Heavens, it's late! I must go.'
'I'll be in touch,' Alan promised. He got up and accompanied her down the stairs to the door. She had started away across the courtyard when she heard him call cheerfully, 'Goodbye, Andrea!'
Oh God, she thought frantically, her stomach churning
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