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William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf

William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf

Titel: William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf
Autoren: Anne Perry
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“Ye’d better come in. Mirren’ll be bringing your case, no doubt. And I daresay ye’ll be wanting a bite to eat beforeye go and see Mrs. McIvor.” He looked at her appraisingly. “And a wash and a chance to comb your hair.”
    “Thank you,” she accepted self-consciously, feeling untidier than she had hitherto thought herself.
    “Aye, well if ye like to go into the kitchen, the cook’ll get ye breakfast, and someone’ll come for ye when Mrs. McIvor’s ready.”
    “Come on,” the bootboy said cheerfully, turning on his heel to take her back. “What are them trains like, miss? I never been on one.”
    “You get about your business, Tommy,” the butler ordered dourly. “Never mind about trains. Have you done Mr. Alastair’s good boots yet?”
    “Yes, Mr. McTeer, I done them all.”
    “Then I’ll find something else for you….”
    Hester was given an excellent meal at a corner of the large kitchen table, then shown to a small bedroom set aside for her use, next to the nursery, where her valise had been left. She washed her face and neck, and did her hair yet again.
    She had no time to wait until she was sent for and conducted by the dismal McTeer through the green baize door into a large hall with a black-and-white flagged floor like a chessboard. The walls were paneled in wood and there were half a dozen trophies of animal heads mounted and hung, most of them red deer. However, the one thing that arrested her attention and held it was a life-size portrait of a man straight ahead of her. It dominated the room, not only with its coloring, which was remarkable, but with some quality of character in the features. His head was long and narrow with large, clear blue eyes, a long slender nose, pinched at the bridge, and a broad mouth whose lines were blurred and strangely uncertain. His fair hair swept across his brow in a splash of color so startling as to draw the eyes from all the surrounding darkness of oak and gilt and the glassy stare of the long-dead stags.
    The butler led her across the hall and down a passagepast several doors until he came to one where he knocked briefly, then he opened it and stood back for her to pass.
    “Miss Latterly, ma’am, the nurse from London.”
    “Thank you, McTeer. Please come in, Miss Latterly.” The voice was soft, gently modulated, and only very slightly accented in the precise, very proper, rather flat Edinburgh society pitch.
    The room was decorated largely in a cool mid-blue with a floral pattern of some indistinct sort upon the walls and in the carpet. The wide windows overlooked a small garden and the early light gave the room a chilly air, even though there was a fire burning in the grate. The single occupant was a slender woman in her late thirties and the moment Hester saw her she knew she must be related to the man whose portrait hung in the hall. She had the same long face, and nose and broad mouth, but in her there was no hint of indecision. Her lips were beautifully shaped, the blue eyes steady and direct. Her fair hair was dressed in the current severe fashion, but its warm color gave it a charm which would have been absent in a less glowing shade. And yet her face was not beautiful; there was a power in it which was too apparent and she took no pains to mask her intelligence.
    “Please come in, Miss Latterly,” she repeated. “I am Oonagh McIvor. I wrote to you on behalf of my mother, Mrs. Mary Farraline. I hope you had an agreeable journey from London?”
    “Yes, thank you, Mrs. McIvor, it was quite pleasant, and that part of it which was in daylight was most enjoyable.”
    “I am delighted.” Oonagh smiled with sudden warmth, transforming her face. “Train travel can be so weary and so terribly grubby. Now I am sure you would like to meet your patient. I must warn you, Miss Latterly, my mother appears to be in excellent health, but it is largely a charade. She tires more easily than she will admit, and her medicine is really quite vital for her well-being, indeed possibly for her life.” She spoke the words quite calmly, but there wasa sense of urgency in her conveying the importance of what she said. “It is not in the least difficult to administer,” she continued. “A simple potion which is unpleasant to the taste, but a small confection after it will more than compensate.” She looked up at Hester standing in front of her. “It is simply that my mother can forget to take it if she is feeling well, and by the time she is ill
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