"Katherine Kurtz - Adept 01 - The Adept" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

"Adam's a psychiatrist, Peregrine, but don't let that put you off," she was saying. "He's also an old and dear
friend - and an admirer of your work."
"I am, indeed, Mr. Lovat," Adam said, smoothly picking up his cue. "I'm very pleased to meet you."
He smiled and offered a handshake, but he was not surprised when Peregrine found a way to avoid it.
"Forgive me, Sir Adam," the younger man murmured, nervously displaying a set of paint-smudged fingers.
"I'm afraid I'm in no fit state to return your courtesy."
With this tight-lipped apology, he retreated to the work-table next to the easel and began wiping his hands on
a linen paint-rag. His fingers were not entirely steady. When Adam moved a step closer, as though to view
the work in progress on the easel, Peregrine reached out and hastily flicked a flap of cream-colored hessian
over the partly-finished canvas.
"No matter, Mr. Lovat," Adam said, affecting not to notice. "I apologize if I've interrupted your work. Judging by
what I've been privileged to see in the past, you have a rare talent for portraiture. I was particularly taken by
your study of Lady Douglas-McKay and her two children. In my opinion, it was one of the finest pieces in this
year's RSA exhibition."
Peregrine shot Adam a fleeting, almost furtive glance from under lowered lids, then pointedly returned his
attention to the brush he had started cleaning.
"I'm obliged to you for the compliment, sir," he mumbled stiffly.
"Your handling of children as subjects is particularly masterful," Adam continued calmly. "I was visiting the
Gordon-Scotts only last week, and couldn't help but notice your recent portrait of their son and daughter. I
knew it for your work even without seeing the signature. Your gift for capturing the spirit behind each face you
paint is really quite distinctive."
The younger man murmured an incoherent phrase that might have been self-deprecation and put aside his
paint rag. He glanced at Adam again, then abruptly took off his glasses and scowled at them as though
dissatisfied. Out from behind the glasses, his eyes were a'dull shade of hazel, with dark hollows underscoring
them.
"Now, Adam," Lady Laura said abruptly, from behind them, "if you and Peregrine are going to debate the
relative merits of artistic technique, I'm sure we can do it far more comfortably somewhere other than this
draughty hall. If the pair of you will excuse me, I'll go tell Anna to have coffee sent up to the morning room."
She was gone before Peregrine could raise an objection - and Adam was not about to lose the opportunity
she had created. The artist hastily put his glasses back on and followed the countess' departure with eyes
that held an expression akin to numb desperation. Adam wondered why.
"Well, as ever, Lady Laura is a very perceptive and practical woman," Adam said amiably, affecting to rub his
hands together against the chill. "Coffee would be most welcome, just about now. I'm surprised your fingers
aren't too stiff to paint. May I?"
Before Peregrine could prevent him, Adam crossed to the easel in two easy strides and was reaching for the
hessian drop-curtain. The smoothness of the sudden movement caught Peregrine completely off guard, and
he instinctively reached out a hand as if to grasp at Adam's sleeve, only recollecting himself at the last
moment.
"No - please!" he protested, his hand fluttering helplessly to his side as Adam started to lift an edge of the
cloth. "I'd - really rather that you didn't - I mean, I don't like anyone to see my work before it's properly finished
-"
Adam gave the younger man a sudden, piercing look. It stopped Peregrine in his tracks, his voice subsiding
abruptly into silence. Adam returned his gaze to the canvas. With studied deliberation, he lifted aside the
hessian drop so that the painting beneath was exposed to full view.
The canvas was an almost surreal fusion of scenes that might have been taken from two totally different
pictures. Adam knew the three Kintoul grandchildren. In the foreground, Walter, Marjory, and Peter Michael
gazed happily out at the world with bright, laughing eyes. Their portion of the canvas was vividly aglow with
warmth, life, and color.
The expression of mischievous innocence in young Peter's round face elicited an involuntary smile from
Adam. The smile died as his eyes travelled upward to take in the other half of the portrait. .