"The Corset Diaries" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacAlister Katie)

УJob? You got me a research job that pays ten grand?Ф My head swam at the thought of all that money. Bills, I could pay off the remainder of PeterТs medical bills. And get the roof repaired. Maybe there would even be some left over so I wouldnТt have to drive around on bald tires. The money would certainly come in . . . hey! УWhat measurements? What basic necessities? DonТt you dare tell anyone I wear a size eighteen! IТll hang you by your balls if you do!Ф

He sighed again, then spoke very deliberately, enunciating carefully as if I was the one who wasnТt making sense. УThe measurements are for the wardrobe, honey. I have to tell them your size, so they know what sort of costumes to findЧCynthia was much smaller and her wardrobe wouldnТt fit you. Of course, she had to wear the wig and you wonТt, so there are compensations. ThereТs no research other than reading the rule book, no genealogy other than you being a dukeТs wife. Now that we have that settled, are there any other questions? IТm on a very tight schedule, and I have to get back to Roger and tell him youТre go, and then thereТs a million other things to take care of. You just have no idea how busy I am.Ф

I breathed heavily through my nose for a moment, then said, just as carefully and slowly, УPierce, youТre quite, quite mad, arenТt you? Or drunk. Whichever it is, I donТt have time for this game.Ф

УDonТt be ridiculous.Ф This was said in his usual sharp, quick manner. УYou canТt tell me that the genealogical research business is so brisk that you canТt take a month off to film a television show, especially not when thereТs ten big ones for you at the end of it. Get hopping, Tessa. Your plane leaves tomorrow night at . . .Ф There was a faint sound of paper rustling over his muted mumblings. У. . . I know that lovely little bit of crumpet wrote it down here somewhereЧsuch a scrumptious boy, but no brains whatsoever . . . Ah, here it is. Yes, as I thought, your plane leaves at six tomorrow night. Gives you all the time in the world to pack and tie up loose ends. But donТt pack too much, you wonТt need any clothing unless you want to stay after the showТs over.Ф

УPierce, I havenТt the slightest ideaЧФ

УIТve told you and told you! ItТs a TV show!Ф

I blinked a half dozen more times, then rallied my wits. УYou got me a job on a TV show? An English TV show?Ф

УYes, yes, a thousand times yes! All you have to do is be the dukeТs wife. ItТs very simple; even a child could understand it. Honestly, honey, you need to make a little more effort to pay attention. I donТt want Roger thinking youТre not fit to be a duchess.Ф

I slumped down into a nearby chair, staring sightlessly out the window at the cows wandering through the tall yellow flowers in the pasture across the street from me. Violet-green swallows swooped and dove, tracing an intricate aerobatic roller coaster pattern in the early morning air, but their loops and twirls and midair twists had nothing on PierceТs conversational manner. A few deep, calming breaths later, I was able to start figuring out what he was trying to tell me. УPierce, dear heart, you are aware that IТm not an actress, yes?Ф

УThey donТt want actresses, silly! They want real people, and youТre perfect for the part because of your ancestors.Ф

I rubbed my forehead. Undergoing a conversation with Pierce was never something I took lightly. УOK, so you got me a job involving no genealogical research despite the fact that thatТs the only thing I know how to do, a job that pays a lot of money for a monthТs work. Exactly what am I supposed to do for a month on a TV show if not act?Ф

УDid you clean your ears this morning? I TOLD YOU! YouТre a dukeТs wife. Your job is to give him an heir in exchange for his title.Ф

I fell out of the chair. УWHAT? Pierce, IТm thirty-nine years old! IТm too old to have children! And I donТt even know this guy!Ф

УTessa, now youТre being obtuseЧФ

УIТm sorry for being so picky, but IТd like to know a man before I go about trying to give him an heir!Ф

УItТs the TV show! YouТre an American heiress whoТs marrying the duke for his title. Just like that one you told me about . . . whatТs her name . . . Constance Vanderbilt?Ф

УConsuelo Vanderbilt,Ф I said slowly, the fragments of what he was saying starting to coalesce in my mind. I crawled back into the chair. УYou mean the TV show is about a duke with an American wife?Ф

УYes, yes, thatТs what IТve been saying!Ф

УAnd they want me to play this part because Consuelo Vanderbilt and I shared an ancestor ten generations ago?Ф

УAt last! I was starting to wonder if youТd given away your brain and filled your head with pudding.Ф

I ignored the slur and concentrated. Hard. УWhy would an English TV company want an American with a tenuousЧand there are probably millions of people who share the same relationship with Consuelo that I haveЧrelationship to a long-dead heiress to act in their show?Ф

УYou wonТt be acting, not really. ItТs one of those reality shows. DidnТt I tell you that? TheyТre filming everyone for a month, sort of a social history experiment to see how common people, non-actors that is, deal with living the Victorian lifestyle. ThereТs a whole staff of sixteen to take care of you, servants you know, butlers and footmen and maids and all that. YouТll love it. You wonТt have to lift a finger to do anything.Ф

УA reality show?Ф I said slowly. УYou mean like the one they did on PBS where people lived in a turn-of-the-twentieth-century house for a couple of months and a film crew followed them around as they went about their 1900-ish business?Ф

УExactly!Ф PierceТs voice was replete with relief, but I was still confused.

УIt sounds interesting and all, but I donТt quite see why you think theyТd want me to play the part of a duchess.Ф