"Warrington, Freda - A Taste of Blood Wine" - читать интересную книгу автора (Warrington Freda)

Her father looked out of place in his evening suit, being one of the few who had refuse to make a "damned fool of himself" by dressing up. Behind him came Madeleine and Elizabeth, with Karl between them like a prize.
Sudden tension sobered Charlotte. Heads turned as Karl walked by. While the other guests looked self-conscious or comical in their costumes, the black velvet seemed part of him, as if he would have been perfectly at home in the eighteenth century. His hair was not quite black but a very deep auburn, a colour that seemed to flood her eyes with its richness. And although he drew attention as would a live panther in their midst, he seemed untouched by it, the dark still centre of a whirlpool.
"Ah, Charlotte, there you are at last," said her father. His tone was cheerful, holding no recrimination for her absence. "I think I've introduced Karl to everyone except you. Anyway, this is Karl Alexander von Wultendorf; Karl, my daughter Charlotte, who, as I'm sure you're tired of hearing, is utterly invaluable to me."
Charlotte stood up and found Karl's intense, beautiful amber eyes gazing into hers. She seemed to be dissolving in their crystal light.
He said, "I am delighted to make your acquaintance at last, Miss Neville. We seemed to keep missing one another."
His voice was low and clear, with only the gentlest trace of an Austrian accent. He took her hand, and the touch of his long cool fingers sent a weird sensation through her like a slow electric shock.
She was so nervous that she could hardly open her mouth, yet it seemed vitally important that she said the right thing. This moment meant something. His eyes held her, cutting through her fear; his beauty went right through the middle of her like a hot sword.
He added, "I am so looking forward to working with you." Then Charlotte found she resented the way his gaze captivated her, resented his glamour. She pulled her hand out of his and said coldly, "I'm afraid the laboratory will be rather too cramped with four of us there."
Karl's reaction to her rudeness was infinitesimal; she could not tell whether he was offended, surprised or unmoved. Still intent on her, he said, "I'm sure we shall manage."
Then Madeleine said something, and his attention flicked away from Charlotte, swift as a kingfisher. She sat down and stared at the table, almost paralysed. Irrationally and fiercely she hated him for the way he had transfixed her, the way he'd made her feel she was someone special and interesting, then turned away as if she were nothing.
"Е and naturally, we're very proud of David," George Neville was telling Karl, resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "So many families lost their sons, you know. We're so very lucky that he came back. And it's all thanks to this young man here." He waved a hand at Edward. "They were in the same regiment, you know."
"FatherЧ" David interrupted.
"Oh, let your old father have the pleasure of telling the story. Edward saved David's life. David was injured by a mortar. Edward sat with him all night in a shell-hole full of water until the bombardment died down, then carried him back behind the lines. Took a bullet in the leg on the way, but still kept going. Got a medal for it; a knighthood would have been more in order, but there you are. Heroes, both of them." Dr Neville nodded emphatically, ignoring Edward's embarrassment.
Karl's eyes widened almost imperceptibly under dark, dark eyebrows. "There was a great deal of bravery in the War," he said.
Edward shook his head, shuffling slightly on his seat. "Oh, nothing brave on my part, I can assure you. One did what one had to. But I expect you know thatЕ " He looked up at Karl, and suddenly his face froze.
"Yes, which front did you serve on?" David asked conversationally.
There was a suspended instant of silence, barely noticeable. What Karl's reply would have been, they didn't find out; Madeleine rescued them.
"Oh, don't talk about the War," she said. "In my capacity as Queen of EgyptЧQueen of this party, at any rateЧI absolutely forbid it." She slid her hand through Karl's arm; he didn't seem to mind. "I can't imagine why you want to hide yourself in a stuffy old laboratory with my father, anyway. You must be frightfully dedicated."
"I would like to find out the secrets of the universe," said Karl. "Is there anyone who would not?"
Madeleine said, "I think the only secret is to be happy."
They looked at each other, their conversation excluding the others. "Do you have no curiosity?" he said.
"Mm!" Her kohl-lined eyes sparkled. "I'm very curious about finding new ways to enjoy myself. You can't work all the time. The only sensible way to exhaust oneself is by dancingЕ " And she was leading him towards the dance floor as she spoke.
"Maddy's making very sure no one else gets near him," Anne commented. "Attractive, isn't he? If he were a woman, men would be fighting duels over him."
"Men probably fight duels over him anyway," Elizabeth said drily.
Charlotte's father was talking to Dr and Mrs Saunders, pulling out a chair to sit down with them. She wished she could corner him and demand, "Don't I have any say in who works with us? How could you agree to this? I don't like him!" But of course she would not. She forced the feelings of confusion down, buried them.
Unspeaking, she listened to the murmur of conversation; Anne's voice, David's voice, rising and falling, making no sense. The air felt heavy and stale in her lungs. Her head ached and she was trembling.
Around her the party whirled on. She watched Madeleine and Karl threading graceful curves through the crowd of dancers; she saw women watching Karl, men watching her sister, jealous. Then she looked at Edward and he too was staring at Madeleine, fumbling with a silver cigarette case but not concentrating on what he was doing.
He's in love with Maddy, too, she thought, feeling a kind of desperate sympathy.
The dance ended and Madeleine and Karl were coming back. Edward's stare moved with them, blatant enough to be bad mannered. But as they approached, Charlotte saw that Edward's face was turning a ghastly colour, blanching beyond white to greyish-blue. His eyes were round, bulging slightly, the whites glistening circles. The silver case fell from his fingers, scattering cigarettes everywhere. His lips were parted, his breath quick and shallow.
Alarmed, Charlotte leaned towards him. "Edward? Are you all right? You don't look very well."
He didn't respond. She touched his arm and he suddenly leapt out of his seat, sending his chair flying backwards and his stick toppling to the ground. Everyone turned to stare at him. Then he started to scream.
Charlotte leapt away from him in panic. It was a terrible sound, a man screaming, deep and tearing. Drops of spittle flew from his mouth and he was pointing at Karl, backing away until he collided with a tent pole and the whole marquee shook. And Karl stopped where he was and stared back at Edward with no more than an expression of slight surprise.
"Take him out!" Edward yelled, his voice thick and hoarse. "Get him away, get him out of here. Vampire." The word was a rasp on his last thread of breath. "Vampire."



Chapter Four
Shadow Against the Wall
Waves of astonishment rippled outwards across the marquee. Conversations stopped, heads turned, couples on the dance floor came to a halt. The music fizzled out raggedly, one instrument after another. And over the undercurrent of murmured exclamations, Edward went on screaming and screaming.
"I see what he is! Death! Get him out!"
David watched his friend in shock and dismay. Everyone seemed paralysed, as if Edward's frenzy had created an invisible wall they could not penetrate.
It was not the first time David had had to go to him, brave the flailing limbs and hold onto his rigid shoulders in an attempt to calm him.
"It's all right, old chap, it's all right. Come on, I'm here. Edward!"
But Edward fought him blindly, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth. The stocky, imperturbable butler, Newland, was hurrying forward to help, followed by two of David's friends. Their expressions were grim. It's taken them back to the trenches, too, David thought. This raw fearЕ God, will it ever let go? As they struggled to hold Edward, Dr Saunders came to them, rolling up the sleeves of his scarlet costume.
"We'd better take him into the house," said the doctor. "I'll fetch my medical bag."
David let the others take him and hung behind. It took three of them to manhandle Edward out of the tent, and he fought them all the way; white-eyed, grey-faced, with the soul-chilling cries tearing themselves out of his lungs. David was shaken to the core, but he felt obliged to say something before he went after his friend.
The screaming faded at last. Like air rushing into a vacuum, the hubbub of conversation rose swiftly to fill the silence. With Edward gone, everyone's attention focussed on Karl. Of them all, he looked the least upset. His face was almost expressionless; a touch of surprise at first, now a slight drawing down of his eyebrows, but otherwise he remained composed.
"I hardly know what to say," David said gravely. He thought, I refuse to be embarrassed or apologetic on Edward's behalf; I owe him better than that. "This is a regrettable situation, but please don't blame Edward. He's been unwell for some time. If you'll excuse me, I have to go and see how he is."
"Of course," Karl said, inclining his head. He seemed to understand, but Madeleine's eyes were glittering and there were bright spots of colour in her cheeks.
"It's an absolute disgrace," she said. "What possessed him to make such a scene, and how dare he say such dreadful things about one of my guests?"