"John DeChancie - Castle 08 - Bride of the Castle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

Linda frowned. "That has me worried. Gene said she probably aborted the pregnancy."
"But he doesn't know."
"No. Anyway, why would Vaya come back to the castle? She didn't like it here, and she loved southern
California, for some strange reason. Gene says it's over, no matter what. He wouldn't want her back."
They walked the length of a stone-lined hallway before Linda said resignedly, "Okay, I'll admit there's
something in what you said. I told you I had doubts. But really, it's not me I'm so worried about. I mean,
for some reason-and I never thought I'd say this-the thought of Gene having a brief fling out in some
crazy world somewhere doesn't really bother me. I'm worried that after the wedding he'll get moody
again. You know, like he does sometimes. He'll mope and brood and then he'll look at me, as if to say,
Some idea you had, there, us getting married."
"And he'll blame you for his being miserable," Melanie said.
"Yeah. I don't need that. I think he's the one who has some soul-searching to do."
"Yeah, but as you said, it's getting a little late for that." Reaching the dining hall, they entered and walked
to a long table where a group of people sat having lunch. Side tables were heavy with a sumptuous
buffet. The selection was eclectic, catering to every taste.
"Hello, hello," Lord Peter Thaxton called to the approaching pair.
"Hi," Linda said as she spooned some lamb stew into a bowl. Bringing it over to the table, she said, "I
thought you and Mr. Dalton were going to Gene's bachelor party."
"We are," Cleve Dalton said. He inclined his head toward Lord Peter. "He insisted on having lunch first."
"Nobody said anything about lunch at the party," Lord Peter said.
"There'll be mounds of food," Linda told him. "I whipped it all up, matter of fact."
"But the party's at one, is it not?" Lord Peter took out his pocket watch. "It's only half past twelve."
Dalton snickered.
"Besides, I always have the same lunch."
Dalton nodded. "Kippers, Yorkshire pudding, steak-and-kidney pie, and tea."
"With lemon."
"With lemon. Same lunch, every day, day in and day out."
"Are you implying there's something wrong in that?" Lord Peter asked archly.
"Nothing wrong with it. You're just a creature of habit, is all."
"'Creature,' is it? Well, this creature likes his habits."
"I said there was nothing wrong with it."
Deena Williams and Barnaby Walsh interrupted their conversation so Deena could ask, "Linda, you all
ready for the wedding?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Nervous?"
"Oh, a little, I guess. Deena, were you ever married?"
"Hell, yeah. Three times."
Linda was nonplussed for a moment before replying, "But you don't look old enough."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Sorry, I meant- Never mind. Are you still married?"
"They was all duds, all three. Divorced 'em all. Well, not the last one, really. I didn't have enough money
to pay off the lawyer and I don't think he ever sent in the papers. So, I guess I'm still married to Dud
Number Three."
"Oh."
"Life's a bitch, ain't it?"
"Life's a sick puppy, no matter what the gender," the portly Barnaby Walsh said.
"Shut up, Walsh."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Anyway, Linda, good luck being married to Casanova."
Linda rolled her eyes. "Deena, please!"