[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Netherdale for the nonce, will you come out with me
and Gayo? Cousin John says there is a garden behind
the house where he can go free for a while, and I have
a couple of hours before I meet Muriel."
Marco agreed with alacrity. A footman showed them
the way to the garden, through the ballroom, and they
inspected it to make sure it was really suitable. It was
surrounded by the house on two sides and a twelve-
foot brick wall on the other two. Though Gayo could
easily fly out, Teresa thought he was unlikely to go far
from her in a strange place.
There was a stone terrace off the ballroom, with
steps down to a lawn crossed by brick paths. In the
centre grew a spreading chestnut, now losing its
golden leaves, with benches about its base.
Chrysanthemums and a few late roses bloomed in the
flowerbeds round the edge of the lawn.
"Perfect!" said Teresa. "There s plenty here to keep
him interested. They went to fetch Gayo.
* * * *
Gayo flew from Teresa's arms into the boughs of the
tree, then settled down to find out whether there was
anything edible within the prickly green covering of the
chestnuts.
The parrot flew wildly up and down the garden,
shouting "Hello!" at the top of his voice. Then he
perched in the tree and attacked one of the prickly
fruits. It fell to the ground, splitting open to reveal a
glossy horse-chestnut.
Gayo swooped down to investigate further.
Marco joined him, interested by the curious nut and
wondering whether it was edible.
While they were busy, Teresa buried her nose in
a fragrant pink rose. Gayo lost interest in the hard
chestnut, flew to the next rosebush, and started
methodically shredding a beautiful yellow bloom. Sea
scum! he cried joyfully.
Teresa and Marco looked round and both
grabbed for him, getting in each other s way. Marco
caught a single green tail-feather, and Gayo
disappeared into the house through an open window
with a mournful "¡Ay de mí!"
"Oh no," groaned Teresa. "I should have made sure
all the windows were closed."
"Listen!" said Marco.
121
Through the window came a series of crashes
accompanied by a stream of multi-lingual vituperation.
"Sacré nom d'un chien!"
"¡Hijo de puta!"
"Canaille! Cochon!"
"Slimy son of a sea snake!"
"I catch, I cook cet oiseau du diable!"
"I think Gayo found the kitchens," said Marco.
Chapter 13
Jacques was packing to return to France, where
good cooks were properly appreciated. Her Grace the
Duchess of Stafford was laid down upon a sofa, calling
for sal volatile and burnt feathers, while Amelia Carter
fluttered about her helplessly. Gayo was back on his
perch in the dressing room, scolding himself in a sad,
soft voice.
Marco went up to the cook's chamber in the attic.
He humbly apologised, blaming the whole fracas on
himself. He should not have snatched at the parrot,
frightening it.
Better a whole gardenful of roses be destroyed for
what was a mere gardener's anger compared to the
righteous wrath of a French chef? Such an insult
must never happen again. It was difficult adjusting
oneself to the customs of a foreign land, did not
Jacques agree? Everything was so different. The parrot
was homesick, he, Marco, was homesick, was it
possible that Jacques was also homesick? One heard
that France was a beautiful country.
Jacques broke down and wept. Of course he was
homesick, all exiles must be homesick. Le pauvre petit
perroquet, in a cold country far from his jungle, must
also be homesick. Did Monsieur Marco suppose the
unhappy bird would enjoy an apricot tart?
Monsieur Marco did, and went off congratulating
himself heartily on having listened to Andrew's
discourses on diplomacy.
He found Teresa on her knees in the drawing room.
She was bathing her aunt's temples with one of her
herbal concoctions, and swearing that tonight's guests
would be served a good dinner if she had to cook it
herself. Miss Carter clucked with dismay, scandalised
at the idea of the duchess's niece in the kitchen.
"No need," said Marco. "Jacques is on his way back
122
to the scene of the crime. I am very sorry, ma'am, it
was all my fault. I was supposed to be watching Gayo."
"So was I. I ought to have known it was not safe to
let him fly free," Teresa said.
"If we are all beating our breasts," said Lord John,
coming in with an ill-concealed grin on his face, "I am
to blame for suggesting the garden in the first place."
"Burnt feathers," murmured his mother weakly,
unwilling to give up her vapours.
Lord John's grin broadened. "No, no, Mama, you
cannot expect to make a burned sacrifice of the poor
parrot. Doing it much too brown!" Overcome with
helpless laughter at this double pun, he sank into a
chair.
"Perhaps this will be sufficient?" enquired Marco
with mock anxiety, drawing a single green tail-feather
from his pocket before he too collapsed.
"Oh do go away both of you and leave my aunt in
peace!" said Teresa, shooing them out, careful to keep
her back to the duchess until she had mastered her
own mirth.
"I only hope this has not given John ideas," sighed
her Grace. "He was always a mischievous little boy and
I do not for a moment believe he has grown out of it.
Perhaps the conservatory next time, my dear, with all
the doors and windows shut?"
Teresa hugged her. "You and my uncle could not be
kinder if you were my own parents," she said with a
catch in her voice. "Now if you are feeling more the
thing, I must go and change. I am going walking with
Muriel Parr at two."
The duchess sat up and straightened her cap.
"Thomas asked me to add Miss Parr to my guest list. I
should be sorry to think he had conceived a tendre for
such an unsuitable female. He is, after all, heir to a
dukedom."
"Muriel is betrothed already, aunt. I am sure
Cousin Tom was only being kind to me by inviting my
friend."
This reassurance must have borne less weight had
the duchess known that, not twenty minutes later, her
eldest son was offering to escort the two young ladies
on their walk. Teresa had hoped to talk to Muriel
privately about Andrew's China mission, but in the
face of her friend's obvious pleasure she had not the
heart to fob him off. Trailed by Annie and Kinsey, they
123
crossed the road and entered the park.
Though Lord Danville took pains to include her,
Teresa was soon unutterably bored. Her companions
covered every topic of conversation approved by Lady
Parr, from the weather to the preferred shade of
upholstery for his lordship's new curricle. She was
relieved when he asked anxiously whether Miss Parr
was not growing tired, and turned their steps
homeward.
As they parted, Muriel whispered to her, "How
lucky you are to have so charming a cousin. And so
very considerate!"
The viscount gazed after her carriage as it drove off.
"As pretty-behaved as she is beautiful," he said. "I
shall tell Mama that she need not doubt the wisdom of
your friendship with Miss Parr. Indeed, from what I
hear of a certain parrot's exploits, a certain young lady
might even benefit from her acquaintance with such
an admirably well-bred female."
He smiled at her, but for once she did not notice
how very handsome he was. Furious, she escaped
upstairs before she said something she might later
regret. It was too bad, when she had been doing so
well, that her own cousin should join Andrew in
preferring Muriel's manners to hers.
* * * *
Despite Gayo's depredations, the duchess's dinner
party went well. Teresa was brought to the attention of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
Netherdale for the nonce, will you come out with me
and Gayo? Cousin John says there is a garden behind
the house where he can go free for a while, and I have
a couple of hours before I meet Muriel."
Marco agreed with alacrity. A footman showed them
the way to the garden, through the ballroom, and they
inspected it to make sure it was really suitable. It was
surrounded by the house on two sides and a twelve-
foot brick wall on the other two. Though Gayo could
easily fly out, Teresa thought he was unlikely to go far
from her in a strange place.
There was a stone terrace off the ballroom, with
steps down to a lawn crossed by brick paths. In the
centre grew a spreading chestnut, now losing its
golden leaves, with benches about its base.
Chrysanthemums and a few late roses bloomed in the
flowerbeds round the edge of the lawn.
"Perfect!" said Teresa. "There s plenty here to keep
him interested. They went to fetch Gayo.
* * * *
Gayo flew from Teresa's arms into the boughs of the
tree, then settled down to find out whether there was
anything edible within the prickly green covering of the
chestnuts.
The parrot flew wildly up and down the garden,
shouting "Hello!" at the top of his voice. Then he
perched in the tree and attacked one of the prickly
fruits. It fell to the ground, splitting open to reveal a
glossy horse-chestnut.
Gayo swooped down to investigate further.
Marco joined him, interested by the curious nut and
wondering whether it was edible.
While they were busy, Teresa buried her nose in
a fragrant pink rose. Gayo lost interest in the hard
chestnut, flew to the next rosebush, and started
methodically shredding a beautiful yellow bloom. Sea
scum! he cried joyfully.
Teresa and Marco looked round and both
grabbed for him, getting in each other s way. Marco
caught a single green tail-feather, and Gayo
disappeared into the house through an open window
with a mournful "¡Ay de mí!"
"Oh no," groaned Teresa. "I should have made sure
all the windows were closed."
"Listen!" said Marco.
121
Through the window came a series of crashes
accompanied by a stream of multi-lingual vituperation.
"Sacré nom d'un chien!"
"¡Hijo de puta!"
"Canaille! Cochon!"
"Slimy son of a sea snake!"
"I catch, I cook cet oiseau du diable!"
"I think Gayo found the kitchens," said Marco.
Chapter 13
Jacques was packing to return to France, where
good cooks were properly appreciated. Her Grace the
Duchess of Stafford was laid down upon a sofa, calling
for sal volatile and burnt feathers, while Amelia Carter
fluttered about her helplessly. Gayo was back on his
perch in the dressing room, scolding himself in a sad,
soft voice.
Marco went up to the cook's chamber in the attic.
He humbly apologised, blaming the whole fracas on
himself. He should not have snatched at the parrot,
frightening it.
Better a whole gardenful of roses be destroyed for
what was a mere gardener's anger compared to the
righteous wrath of a French chef? Such an insult
must never happen again. It was difficult adjusting
oneself to the customs of a foreign land, did not
Jacques agree? Everything was so different. The parrot
was homesick, he, Marco, was homesick, was it
possible that Jacques was also homesick? One heard
that France was a beautiful country.
Jacques broke down and wept. Of course he was
homesick, all exiles must be homesick. Le pauvre petit
perroquet, in a cold country far from his jungle, must
also be homesick. Did Monsieur Marco suppose the
unhappy bird would enjoy an apricot tart?
Monsieur Marco did, and went off congratulating
himself heartily on having listened to Andrew's
discourses on diplomacy.
He found Teresa on her knees in the drawing room.
She was bathing her aunt's temples with one of her
herbal concoctions, and swearing that tonight's guests
would be served a good dinner if she had to cook it
herself. Miss Carter clucked with dismay, scandalised
at the idea of the duchess's niece in the kitchen.
"No need," said Marco. "Jacques is on his way back
122
to the scene of the crime. I am very sorry, ma'am, it
was all my fault. I was supposed to be watching Gayo."
"So was I. I ought to have known it was not safe to
let him fly free," Teresa said.
"If we are all beating our breasts," said Lord John,
coming in with an ill-concealed grin on his face, "I am
to blame for suggesting the garden in the first place."
"Burnt feathers," murmured his mother weakly,
unwilling to give up her vapours.
Lord John's grin broadened. "No, no, Mama, you
cannot expect to make a burned sacrifice of the poor
parrot. Doing it much too brown!" Overcome with
helpless laughter at this double pun, he sank into a
chair.
"Perhaps this will be sufficient?" enquired Marco
with mock anxiety, drawing a single green tail-feather
from his pocket before he too collapsed.
"Oh do go away both of you and leave my aunt in
peace!" said Teresa, shooing them out, careful to keep
her back to the duchess until she had mastered her
own mirth.
"I only hope this has not given John ideas," sighed
her Grace. "He was always a mischievous little boy and
I do not for a moment believe he has grown out of it.
Perhaps the conservatory next time, my dear, with all
the doors and windows shut?"
Teresa hugged her. "You and my uncle could not be
kinder if you were my own parents," she said with a
catch in her voice. "Now if you are feeling more the
thing, I must go and change. I am going walking with
Muriel Parr at two."
The duchess sat up and straightened her cap.
"Thomas asked me to add Miss Parr to my guest list. I
should be sorry to think he had conceived a tendre for
such an unsuitable female. He is, after all, heir to a
dukedom."
"Muriel is betrothed already, aunt. I am sure
Cousin Tom was only being kind to me by inviting my
friend."
This reassurance must have borne less weight had
the duchess known that, not twenty minutes later, her
eldest son was offering to escort the two young ladies
on their walk. Teresa had hoped to talk to Muriel
privately about Andrew's China mission, but in the
face of her friend's obvious pleasure she had not the
heart to fob him off. Trailed by Annie and Kinsey, they
123
crossed the road and entered the park.
Though Lord Danville took pains to include her,
Teresa was soon unutterably bored. Her companions
covered every topic of conversation approved by Lady
Parr, from the weather to the preferred shade of
upholstery for his lordship's new curricle. She was
relieved when he asked anxiously whether Miss Parr
was not growing tired, and turned their steps
homeward.
As they parted, Muriel whispered to her, "How
lucky you are to have so charming a cousin. And so
very considerate!"
The viscount gazed after her carriage as it drove off.
"As pretty-behaved as she is beautiful," he said. "I
shall tell Mama that she need not doubt the wisdom of
your friendship with Miss Parr. Indeed, from what I
hear of a certain parrot's exploits, a certain young lady
might even benefit from her acquaintance with such
an admirably well-bred female."
He smiled at her, but for once she did not notice
how very handsome he was. Furious, she escaped
upstairs before she said something she might later
regret. It was too bad, when she had been doing so
well, that her own cousin should join Andrew in
preferring Muriel's manners to hers.
* * * *
Despite Gayo's depredations, the duchess's dinner
party went well. Teresa was brought to the attention of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]