Читать книгу In the Lion’s Den: The House of Falconer - Barbara Bradford Taylor - Страница 17

James followed Natalie across the front entrance hall, flagged in black-and-white marble, somewhat reluctant to leave the lovely drawing room. Although he had been to Mrs Lorne’s house several times, he had previously only ever been entertained in the library opposite.

That room was rather masculine, with shelves full of books and dark-green leather sofas and chairs. He had had tea there once, and a meeting with Natalie on another occasion. So seeing the rest of the house today was a revelation to him.

Natalie paused at the doorway of the dining room and whispered, ‘You’re in for a surprise. Come on, you’re going to see how clever Sandro is.’ As she spoke she took hold of James’s hand and led him inside.

He was indeed taken aback, and drew in his breath as he glanced around. What he saw were the most beautiful murals of garden scenes on all four walls, broken only at the window where narrow green silk draperies hung to the floor, neat and unobtrusive.

The scenes Sandro had painted were true to life: green trees, bushes and lawns. There was a blue sky filled with puffy white clouds and a wonderful mixture of flowers with the blooms in their natural colours: pink roses, delphiniums, daffodils, and tulips of varying hues.

Turning to Natalie, he exclaimed, ‘What an amazing effect he has created! I feel as if I am really in the garden, in the middle of it.’

Natalie said rather proudly, ‘My brother is probably one of the best scenic designers for the theatre in London.’

‘If this room is anything to go by, I would say the very best,’ James replied, his tone sincere.

‘Please everyone, do be seated,’ Francesca Lorne announced. ‘There is a place card at every setting. It’s easy to find your name.’

Within seconds the chairs at the round table were filled.

James was surprised to see he was seated next to Mrs Lorne, on her right, with Aubrey Williamson on her left, positioned between Mrs Lorne and Irina.

Irina gave James a smile as she sat down and then winked at him, which amused him. There was something about this young woman that touched him. It was not just her loveliness, but something else that drew him to her … perhaps her warm and welcoming personality. A deep kindness emanated from her. She had a certain aura he could not quite pinpoint.

Well schooled in manners by his Falconer grandmother, James turned at once to his hostess and praised her for her beautifully set table. Silver and crystal sparkled in the candlelight, and the large bowl of pink roses gave off a lovely scent.

‘And I must compliment you on the overall beauty of this room, Mrs Lorne. Especially your nephew’s murals, which are breathtaking. They are so lifelike I feel I have stepped into the garden, as I just told Natalie.’

‘They are unique,’ Mrs Lorne murmured. ‘Everyone says exactly the same as you. There is no doubt about it, Sandro is genuinely gifted. His theatrical designs are much praised, you know.’

At this moment, the door to the kitchen opened and the housekeeper appeared. Addressing Francesca Lorne, she announced, ‘Supper is about to be served, madam.’

‘Thank you, Violet. You can all come in. I know we’re in for a treat.’

Within seconds, Violet ushered in three young maids in black dresses, white aprons and starched white headdresses. All were carrying trays laden with dressed crab arranged in well-scrubbed crab shells, decorated on top with sprigs of parsley. The trays were placed on two empty sideboards. The crab was served by two of the maids. The third maid carried around a large platter of sliced brown bread, already buttered.

Violet and one of the maids filled the crystal goblets with white wine, while another poured the water into silver beakers.

Natalie was seated on James’s right. When the food had been served, she touched his arm. She said, ‘I’m going to Hull on Friday. I wondered if you could come up. I have an idea.’

‘What do you mean?’ he interrupted, staring at her intently.

‘Have you ever thought about Hull? As a way to start out, I mean. With a little shop, a beginning …’

He was startled and, for a moment, he couldn’t answer. Then he shook his head. ‘Aren’t you the one? Looking out for me all the time—’