JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 64 из 242„By God, it is!” He was oddly nervous and his voice was too high-pitched and he had a struggle to bring it under control. „What the devil are you doing here? I ordered you south of the river, damn you.”
„Got cut off, sir,” Sharpe said, not looking at Christopher, but still staring at Kate’s face which was framed by the narcissi in her hair. „I got cut off by Frogs, sir, a lot of Frogs, so I fought them off, sir, and came to look for Miss Savage.”
„Who no longer exists,” the Colonel said coldly, „but allow me to introduce you to my wife, Sharpe, Mrs. James Christopher.”
And Kate, hearing her new name, thought her heart would burst with happiness.
Because she believed she was married.
The newly united Colonel and Mrs. Christopher rode back to the Quinta in the dusty gig, leaving Luis and the soldiers to trail after them. Hagman, still alive, was now in a handcart, though the jolting of the unsprung vehicle seemed to give him more pain than the old stretcher.
Lieutenant Vicente was also looking ill; indeed he was so pale that Sharpe feared the erstwhile lawyer had caught some disease in the last couple of days. „You should see the doctor when he comes to have another look at Hagman,” Sharpe said. There was a doctor in the village who had already examined Hagman, pronounced him a dying man, but promised he would come to the Quinta that afternoon to look at the patient again. „You look as if you’ve got an upset belly,” Sharpe said.
„It is not an illness,” Vicente said, „not something a doctor can cure.”
„Then what is it?”
„It is Miss Katherine,” Vicente said forlornly.
„Kate?” Sharpe stared at Vicente. „You know her?”
Vicente nodded. „Every young man in Porto knows Kate Savage. When she was sent to school in England we pined for her and when she sailed back it was as if the sun had come out.”
„She’s pretty enough,” Sharpe allowed, then looked again at Vicente as the full force of the lawyer’s words registered. „Oh, bloody hell,” he said.
„What?” Vicente asked, offended.
„I don’t need you to be in love,” Sharpe said.
„I am not in love,” Vicente said, still offended, but it was obvious that he was besotted with Kate Christopher. In the last two or three years he had gazed at her from afar and he had dreamed of her when he was writing his poetry and had been distracted by her memory when he was studying his philosophy and he had woven fantasies about her as he delved through the dusty law books.
„Got cut off, sir,” Sharpe said, not looking at Christopher, but still staring at Kate’s face which was framed by the narcissi in her hair. „I got cut off by Frogs, sir, a lot of Frogs, so I fought them off, sir, and came to look for Miss Savage.”
„Who no longer exists,” the Colonel said coldly, „but allow me to introduce you to my wife, Sharpe, Mrs. James Christopher.”
And Kate, hearing her new name, thought her heart would burst with happiness.
Because she believed she was married.
The newly united Colonel and Mrs. Christopher rode back to the Quinta in the dusty gig, leaving Luis and the soldiers to trail after them. Hagman, still alive, was now in a handcart, though the jolting of the unsprung vehicle seemed to give him more pain than the old stretcher.
Lieutenant Vicente was also looking ill; indeed he was so pale that Sharpe feared the erstwhile lawyer had caught some disease in the last couple of days. „You should see the doctor when he comes to have another look at Hagman,” Sharpe said. There was a doctor in the village who had already examined Hagman, pronounced him a dying man, but promised he would come to the Quinta that afternoon to look at the patient again. „You look as if you’ve got an upset belly,” Sharpe said.
„It is not an illness,” Vicente said, „not something a doctor can cure.”
„Then what is it?”
„It is Miss Katherine,” Vicente said forlornly.
„Kate?” Sharpe stared at Vicente. „You know her?”
Vicente nodded. „Every young man in Porto knows Kate Savage. When she was sent to school in England we pined for her and when she sailed back it was as if the sun had come out.”
„She’s pretty enough,” Sharpe allowed, then looked again at Vicente as the full force of the lawyer’s words registered. „Oh, bloody hell,” he said.
„What?” Vicente asked, offended.
„I don’t need you to be in love,” Sharpe said.
„I am not in love,” Vicente said, still offended, but it was obvious that he was besotted with Kate Christopher. In the last two or three years he had gazed at her from afar and he had dreamed of her when he was writing his poetry and had been distracted by her memory when he was studying his philosophy and he had woven fantasies about her as he delved through the dusty law books.