One Chance At Love. Кэрол МортимерЧитать онлайн книгу.
now!
But she didn’t forget the man as she walked the last two miles, whistling happily to herself, the day suddenly seeming full of new possibilities. Maybe the man was a local, maybe Christi would know who he was … But, of course, her friend had said she hadn’t met anyone else in the area. What a shame; it might have been interesting meeting the Greek god. It might have helped her irresponsible image along a little more, too, if she could have brought the local womaniser back to the castle to meet the professor.
Not that her image needed any help, she acknowledged ruefully as she glanced down at herself. Her denims were old and patched at the knees, the material faded in the usual places, her T-shirt just as old, but out of shape after numerous washes. She put a self-conscious hand up to the blonde bubbly curls that had escaped the long plait down her spine and that had helped give her her name, framing her small, heart-shaped face that was dominated by green, catlike eyes. Small, just over five feet, with breasts that were slightly too large for her body, and her fly-away blonde hair, she was the perfect ‘dizzy blonde’ image. No doubt she would be Zachariah Bennett’s most unusual house—castle—guest, to date!
Castle Haven proved to be exactly what Christi had claimed it was, a huge turreted castle that seemed totally out of place among the placid lakes and tree-covered hills and mountains that surrounded it on all sides.
Unlike Christi, however, Dizzy found the castle fascinating, and longed to know its history. But she supposed that would never do, not when she was supposed to be showing Zachariah Bennett just how wayward and uncaring the youth of today could be, and, in the process, what a shining example of responsibility his niece was. It would never do to let old Zach know she was probably as interested in history as he was!
The castle was a fitting home for him, as a historian of some repute—Dizzy knew him mainly from his books—and as she drew nearer Dizzy could see that on the outside, at least, it had been maintained in beautiful condition. Writing history books must pay very well! she thought.
The butler who opened the door several minutes after she had pulled the bell—hoping it was ringing somewhere in the depths of the castle—looked as if he might have been here doing this very same thing since the castle had originally been built! Snowy-haired, with an aloofness that was felt rather than physically visible in his thin body and blandly expressionless face, his disapproval of the ‘person’ standing at the huge heavy oak door he had swung open was a tangible thing. Maybe he was old Zachariah himself; probably what he earned as a historian didn’t run to a butler as well as a castle!
‘Hi!’ She gave him her brightest smile, easing her backpack on to one shoulder. ‘My name’s Dizzy James, and I—–’
‘The castle is not open to the public, Miss James,’ he informed her frostily.
She had been going to say ‘I’m a friend of Christi’s’, but his condescending attitude brought out the devil in her. ‘What a pity,’ she drawled. ‘I’m sure you would get thousands of people wanting to tramp all over the place if you decided to change your mind.’ She looked up at him innocently as he stiffened in shock at the suggestion.
His raised eyebrows and pursed lips showed his distaste. ‘Let me give you directions back to the main road,’ he said coldly. ‘You go back the way you just came, and then—–’
‘Oh, but I don’t want to go back to the main road!’ She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming like a cat’s.
‘This is private property, Miss James, and—–’
‘But I’m here to see Christi Bennett,’ she informed him happily.
‘Miss Christi?’ This time his guard was completely down, due to severe shock and horrified disbelief that ‘Miss Christi’ could even know such a person!
Obviously, he was the family butler, after all, and as she had only come here to shock Zachariah Bennett, not upset the whole household, she gave the man in front of her her most engaging smile. It had been known to melt frostier hearts than his, although not always, and never when she really willed it to. This time she was partially successful, although only grudgingly, as the butler slowly opened the door for her to come inside.
He nodded to her to wait where she stood, just inside the huge reception area. ‘I’ll go and tell Miss Christi that you’re here—–’
‘That won’t be necessary, Fredericks.’ Christi came bounding down the wide stairway like a whirlwind, her face flushed with excitement—the first she had known for some time, by the look of the shadows beneath her usually sparkling blue eyes. ‘Dizzy!’ she greeted thankfully, clasping her hands in hers before hugging her tightly.
She allowed Christi the indulgence for several seconds, realising her friend was under severe strain. But all the time she was aware of Fredericks as he watched them with distant curiosity, and so she finally whispered to Christi, ‘Acquaintances, remember?’
Christi stiffened at the reminder, her arms falling back to her sides as she stepped back reluctantly, forcing indifference into her expression. ‘That will be all, thank you, Fredericks,’ she said, turning to the butler. ‘Dizzy, how nice to see you again!’ Her words were the insincerely polite ones of a host having an unwanted guest foisted upon them, although her eyes were dancing with mischief as she looked at Dizzy.
Easily one of the most beautiful women Dizzy had ever seen, with glorious ebony hair and huge blue eyes, and a model-girl figure, Christi wasn’t in the least conceited about her looks, but felt them merely to be her stock-in-trade for the career she had chosen for herself. She had even been warned that being too beautiful could hinder her career, rather than help it, if she was serious about becoming an actress of any repute.
The two women stood grinning at each other once they were alone in the high-ceilinged entrance hall, their breathing echoing hollowly against the grey stone.
‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ Christi finally sighed her relief that she had been proved wrong.
Dizzy’s smile widened. ‘I needed a little time to wake up,’ she teased, reminding her friend of the earliness of her call. ‘Besides, how could I let down the person who probably stopped me being put in jail—at least overnight?’ she mocked, thinking of her friend’s efforts of bribery and corruption.
Christi looked embarrassed. ‘I only—–’
‘What’s going on here?’
Dizzy didn’t need the confirmation of her friend’s suddenly guiltily apprehensive expression to guess that the man who had silently entered the hall through another door was fusty, dusty Zachariah Bennett. He spoke quietly, but nevertheless with a complete assurance that he was entitled to the explanation he demanded. If he had come in on the conversation soon enough to overhear her reference to almost being put in jail, then that wasn’t so surprising!
‘Uncle Zach.’ Christi quickly regained control, crossing to the man as he stood slightly in the shadows beneath the stairway, the door he had used just behind him, probably belonging to the kitchen or cellar, Dizzy thought. ‘I asked you if an old school acquaintance of mine could come to stay,’ Christi reminded lightly.
Dizzy turned to look at her; she had told her uncle of her visit? What had happened to the ‘old acquaintance’ who had just happened to be ‘drifting’ through, had ‘heard Christi was in the area and decided to pay her a call’?
Christi had changed the story without warning her! But she wasn’t able to dwell on that, as Zachariah Bennett at last stepped out of the shadows.
Baggy, and definitely untailored corduroys, a cream shirt that looked more than a little creased beneath the too-large tweed jacket, were exactly the sort of attire she had expected the bookishly austere Professor Zachariah Bennett to wear. But, as her wincing gaze rose, and she saw the gold-streaked blond hair, she knew that the ill-fitting clothing covered the magnificent body of the Greek god she had watched as he had swum naked not half an hour ago!