The Burning Shore - Smith Wilbur - Страница 24

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It isn't Afrikaans, she denied, and they fell into an animated discussion and argument, and within the first few minutes Centaine found that she liked him, liked him for his resemblances to Michael, and for the vast differences that she detected between them.

Let's eat! Sean Courtney exclaimed, and took her arm. We have so little time- He seated her at the table.

Michael over here, and we'll let him carve the chicken. I'll take care of the wine. Sean gave them the toast. To the next time the three of us meet again, and they all drank it fervently, all too aware of what lay behind it, though here they were out of earshot of the guns.

They chatted easily, the general quickly and effortlessly smoothing over any uneasy silences, so that Centaine realized that for all his bluff exterior he was intuitively gracious, but always she was aware of the scrutiny of those eyes, the valuations and appraisals that were in progress behind them.

Very well, mon General, she thought defiantly, look all you want, but I am me and Michel is mine. And she lifted her chin and held his gaze, and answered him directly and without simperings or hesitations, until she saw him smile, and nod almost imperceptibly.

So this is the one Michael has chosen, Sean mused. I would have hoped for a girl of his own people, who spoke his own language and observed the same faith. I would have wanted to know a damned sight more about her before I gave my blessing. I would have made them take their time to consider each other and the consequences, but there is no time. Tomorrow or the next day, God knows what will happen. How can I spoil what might be their only moment of happiness ever? For a moment longer he looked at her, searching for signs of spite or meanness, for weakness or vanity, and saw only the small determined jaw, the mouth that could smile easily but just as easily harden, and the dark intelligent eyes. She's tough and she's proud, he decided, but I think she will be loyal, with strength to stay the full distance. So he smiled and nodded and saw her relax, and he saw also true affection and liking dawn in her eyes before he turned to Michael.

All right, my boy, you didn't come all this way to chew on this stringy little bird. Tell me why you came, and see if you can surprise me. Uncle Sean, I have asked Centaine to be my wife. Sean wiped his moustaches carefully and then laid down his napkin.

Do not spoil it for them, he warned himself. Don't put the smallest cloud on their joy.

He looked up at them and he began to smile.

You don't surprise me, you stun me! I had given up expecting you to do something sensible. He turned to Centaine. Of course, young lady, you had too much good sense to accept, didn't you? General, I hang my head when I admit that I did not.

I have accepted him. Sean looked fondly at Michael. Lucky brighter!

She is too darned good for you, but don't let her get away."Don't worry, sir.

Michael laughed with relief. He hadn't expected such instant acceptance. The old boy could still surprise him. He reached across the table to take Centaine's hand, and Centaine looked at Sean Court they with puzzlement. Thank you, General, but you know nothing about me, or my family. She remembered the catechism to which her own father had subjected Michael.

I doubt that Michael is intending to marry your family, Sean said drily. And about you, my dear. Well, I am one of the best judges of horseflesh in Africa, and that's not false modesty. I can judge a likely filly when I see one. You are calling. me a horse, General? she bridled playfully.

I'm calling you a thoroughbred, and I'll be surprised if you aren't a country girl and a horsewoman, and if you haven't got some pretty fancy bloodlines, tell me that I'm wrong, he challenged.

Her papa is a count, she rides like a centaur, and they have an estate that was mostly vineyards before the Huns shelled it. Ha! Sean looked triumphant, and Centaine made a gesture of resignation.

He knows everything, your uncle.

Not everything- Sean turned back to Michael. When do you plan to do it? I would have liked my father- Michael did not have to finish the thought, -but we have so little time. Sean, who knew truly how little time there was, nodded. Garry, your father, will understand. We want to marry before the spring offensive begins, Michael went on.

Yes. I know. Sean frowned and sighed. Some of his peers could send the young men out there with dispassion, but he was not a professional as they were. He knew he would never grow hardened to the pain and the guilt of it, sending men to die. He began to speak and stopped himself, sighed again and then went on.

Michael, this is for you alone. Though you'll learn of it soon enough, anyway. A field order has been issued to all fighter squadrons. That order is to prevent all enemy aerial observation over our lines. We will be throwing in all our squadrons to keep the German spotters from following our preparations over the next weeks. Michael sat quietly, considering what his uncle had told him. It meant that as far ahead as he could anticipate, the future would be an incessant and ruthless battle with the German Jagdstaffels. He was being warned that few of the fighter pilots could expect to survive that battle.

Thank you, sir, he said softly. Centaine and I will marry soon, as soon as we can. May I hope that you will be there? I can only promise you that I will do my level best to be there. Sean looked up as John Pearce came back into the garden. What is it, John? I'm sorry, sir. Urgent despatch from General Rawlinson I'm coming. Give me two minutes. He turned to his young guests.

Bloody awful lunch, I'm sorry. The wine was excellent, and the company was even better, Centaine demurred.

Michael, go and find Sangane and the Rolls. I want a word with this young lady in private. He offered Centaine his arm, and they followed Michael out of the small garden and down the cloisters towards the stone portals of the monastery. Only when she stood at his side did Centaine realize how big he was, and that he had a slight limp, so that his footfalls on the stone paving were uneven. He spoke quietly but with force, leaning over her slightly to make each word tell.

Michael is a fine young man, he is kind, he is thoughtful, he is sensitive. But he does not have the ruthlessness that a man needs in this world to get to the top of the mountain. Sean paused, and she looked up at him attentively.

I think you have that strength. You are still very young, but I believe that you will grow stronger. I want you to be strong for Michael Centaine nodded, finding no words to reply.

Be strong for my son, Sean said softly, and she started.

Your son? and she saw the consternation in his eyes, which was swiftly masked, and he corrected himself.

I'm sorry, his father is my twin, sometimes I think of him that way I understand, she said, but somehow she sensed that it had not been a mistake. One day I will follow that until I find the truth, she thought, and Sean repeated, Look after him well, Centaine, and I will be your friend to the gates of hell. I promise you that I will. She squeezed his arm, and they had reached the entrance where Sangane waited with the Rolls. Au revoir, Gn&al, Centaine said.

Yes, Sean nodded. Until we meet again, and helped her into the back seat of the Rolls.

I will let you know as soon as we decide the day, sir. Michael shook his uncle's hand.

Even if I can't be there, be happy, my boy, said Sean Courtney, and watched the Rolls purr sedately down the driveway, then with an impatient shrug, he turned and marched back down the cloisters with that long uneven stride.

With her hat and jewellery and shoes packed back into the soft leather bag, and with the fur-lined boots on her feet and the flying helmet on her head, Centaine crouched at the edge of the forest.

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