Читать книгу Royal Regiment - Gilbert Frankau - Страница 46

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Lunch proved a gayer meal than breakfast; but, once during its progress, Rockingham—catching Camilla off her guard for a moment—saw that identical look of sadness of which he had been aware in the church.

Bryce-Atkinson’s story—it seemed to him in that moment—might be true. And at once his imagination was at work, elaborating the tale, making it the explanation of her marriage to a man at least a quarter of a century her senior. Yet that she had married the Hawk either for his money or his social position, he could not quite bring himself to believe.

“Not that sort”, he decided, unaware that his mind was already championing her. Then he remembered Mary’s, “If I gave up my job, I should be just a kept woman”.

But only vaguely. For somehow even the memory of Mary had gone dim.

The port decanter circulated, and the two women withdrew. He did not see Camilla again till nearly tea time.

“What have you been up to?” asked the Hawk as she entered the hall.

“I had another hour’s practice.”

“We”, announced Bryce-Atkinson with unusual fortitude, “have been settling the fate of Europe.”

“Where’s Diana?”

“Still asleep, I imagine.”

“Then you’d better go and wake her up.” She turned to her husband again. “Have you any idea how many people you’ve invited to tea this afternoon?”

“About a dozen as far as I remember. But I don’t expect any of ’em’ll stay very long. Except the General. He likes his game of bridge. In fact I promised him one. He wouldn’t have accepted otherwise.”

“Then I’ll have a table put out here.”

As she rang, a car drove up to the front door. Within half an hour, six others had followed. It was nearly seven before the last and most important of the Hawk’s guests paid his losses and rose from the table.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Wethered”, said the General. “You must bring Lady Wethered to dinner as soon as my wife gets back from the south of France. Hope that leg of yours’ll soon be better. I’d take it easy for the next few days if I were you.”

“How does he play?” asked Hawk Wethered when the five of them were alone again.

“Terribly”, smiled Camilla, who had been Rockingham’s partner for the last two rubbers; and once more a spark of understanding leaped between them.

Then he again experienced selfconsciousness, and one twinge of an emotion he could not analyse, unless ...

Unless it were fear!