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

which, in turn, had been built on an old monastic site. In its present form, it was a Victorian rendering of
Scottish vernacular architecture, designed and built, at the instigation of Adam's grandfather, by a talented
local architect named Forbes. Pundits south of the Solway and River Tweed tended to label Forbes'
distinctive style as neo-Gothic; Adam, when feeling particularly irreverent, was reminded of a favorite
childhood picture book of Wind in the Willows, with its illustrations of Toad Hall.
"Toad Hall" notwithstanding, Forbes had gained a sufficient reputation to eventually be awarded a knighthood,
in recognition of the excellence of his architectural achievements; and it was widely accepted that
Strathmourne exemplified some of his best technical work. Peregrine's artistic sensibilities were impressed,
not only by the layout of the rooms and galleries, but by the close attention Forbes had paid to small details
of embellishment. The vine-leaf friezes adorning the walls throughout the rooms on the ground floor were
reminiscent of the best designs of the High Gothic period. Similarly, the stained glass window in the private
chapel depicted the dream of Jacob with a medieval richness of jewel-like color.
Peregrine was particularly struck by a heraldic crest carved and painted on the central boss of the ceiling in
the great hall - a phoenix taking flight out of a nest of fire, within a traditional Scottish buckle and strap.
"That's a striking crest," he said, shading his eyes with both hands to peer up at it. "Is it a Sinclair device?"
"Aye, one of several." Adam smiled. "According to the Alexandrian Physiologus, the phoenix betokens life
eternal. When it reaches extreme old age, it builds itself a pyre of Arabian spices and is consumed, to rise
up again out of the flames as a new creature, reborn to ongoing life."
"Reincarnation," Peregrine murmured. "Do you think such a thing is possible?"
Adam flashed him a penetrating look from under raised brows. "Is it possible that we are born again and again
in the course of fulfilling our individual spiritual destinies? Don't ask me. Ask yourself."
Glancing startledly at the chiseled face of his companion, Peregrine found himself without a word to say.
They left the great hall and moved upstairs. Peregrine's discomfiture gradually subsided as they wandered in
and out of the apartments in the north wing. The pair of adjoining rooms at the end of the corridor boasted an
intriguing collection of Edwardian toys.
"This was the nursery, when my father and his brother were boys," Adam said, watching indulgently as
Peregrine bent to inspect a child-sized mechanical pony and cart. "My sister tells me that when she was a
child, she used to regard it as a special treat to be allowed to come and play up here. That was one of her
favorites."
The mechanical pony had a removable leather harness, and a mane and tail of real horsehair. Peregrine
fingered the brass rail behind the seat on the cart, cocking his head to admire the designs stenciled on the
side.
"I didn't know you had a sister," he said. Somehow, in spite of all his social grace and obvious charm, Adam
Sinclair seemed strangely solitary - as though somehow set apart even from his friends.
"Theodora's quite a bit older than I am," Adam replied. "Actually, she's my half-sister - not that it matters. Her
mother was my father's first wife. There's quite a good portrait of her in the room next to yours. Come along
and I'll show it to you."
The portrait was full-length, and showed a slender, dark-haired girl with laughing eyes, hugging a shawl of
tartan silk over an elegant white ballgown.
"That was painted shortly before Theo's twenty-first birthday," Adam said. "The following year she married Sir
Thomas Mac Allan. He was in the diplomatic service. They've spent most of their married life in the Far East,
though they're home now. All three of the children were born abroad. I'd love to see what you'd do for a family
portrait of all of them."
"Where is home now?" Peregrine asked.
"Over in Argyllshire, not far from Inveraray," Adam replied. "It's a pretty place, if a trifle tame after the Orient.
But Theo, I think, was more than ready to settle down in one spot, after so many years spent in foreign
climes. Thomas retired a few years ago. Theo tells me he rather enjoys being his own man for a change."
The rest of the tour was taken up with travel anecdotes, ending up in the library once more. While they were
waiting for Humphrey to bring up the tea tray, and Adam was making a phone call, Peregrine prowled idly up
and down the array of bookcases that lined the walls adjoining the desk. A handsome volume bound in