"Andrews, V C - The Casteels 02 - Dark Angel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Andrews V.C)

DARK ANGEL
by
Virginia Andrews


BY the same author
FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC
PETALS ON THE WIND
IF THERE BE THORNS
SEEDS OF YESTERDAY
MY SWEET AUDRINA

HEAVEN

PART ONE

One.

Comine Home

ALL ABOUT ME THE LARGE HOUSE LOOMED DAM, mysterious, and lonely. The
shadows whispered of secrets, of incidents best forgotten, and hinted of
dangers, but said nothing at all about the safety and security I needed
most. This was my mother's home, MY dead mother's home. The longed-for
home that had called to me when I lived in that mountain shack in the
Willies; called loud and sweet into my childish ears so I had been
beguiled by thoughts of all the happiness waiting just for me,

once I was here. Here in these rainbowed rooms of dreams fulfilled I'd
find the golden pot of family love-the kind I'd never known. And around
my neck I'd wear the pearls of culture, wisdom, and breeding that would
keep me free from harm, from scorn, from contempt. And so like a bride I
waited for all those wonderful things to appear and decorate me, but
they didn't come. As I sat there on her bed, the vibrations in her room
aroused the troubled thoughts that always crowded into the darkest
corners of my brain.

Why had my mother run away from a house like this? Poor Granny had led
me out into that cold, wintry night so many years ago, to visit a
cemetery where she could tell me I wasn't Sarah's first child, and show
me MY mother's grave. My mother, a beautiful runaway Boston girl named
Leigh.

Poor Granny with her ignorant, innocent brain. What a trusting soul
she'd been, believing her youngest son Luke would sooner or later prove
himself worthy enough to lift up the scorned and ridiculed name of
Casteel. "Scumbags," I seemed to hear ringing like church bells in the
darkness all around me, no good, never will be no good, none of em " and
my hands rose to my head to shut out the sound.