Free Katerina's Secret by Mary Jane Staples Page A

to?’ said Celeste, eyes flashing. ‘All that energy and all those words. She’s pouring herself all over him and will tire him into distressed frailty.’
    â€˜Distressed frailty? How imaginative,’ said Rosamund and sailed on. She made her way to the road. She crossed it and took the winding path that led down to the beach. It was very narrow, and at one point there was simply no room to pass Colonel Brecht when he appeared on his way up. He halted, tall, broad and upright.
    â€˜Ah,’ he said and fixed his blue eyes on her parasol.
    â€˜Ah?’ enquired Rosamund.
    â€˜You are going down to the beach, madam?’
    â€˜I was,’ said Rosamund. ‘I’m at a full stop now.’
    â€˜
Himmel
,’ breathed the colonel, ‘a fool I am.’ He stood aside, pressing himself against the brown rocky outcrop. ‘Your pardon, dear lady – dear madam – ah – madam.’
    â€˜The beach,’ said Rosamund.
    â€˜A splendid tonic, madam. The air is like wine down there, the wine of the sea.’
    â€˜The wine of the sea?’ Rosamund smiled. ‘Are you referring, sir, to Homer’s wine-dark sea?’
    â€˜Madam?’ Colonel Brecht was cautious.
    â€˜You haven’t read Homer? Your arm, sir, if you’ll be so good, and you shall escort me down this trembling, dangerous path, and we’ll breathe in the wine of the sea together.’
    â€˜Good God,’ said the astonished colonel. The path was a winding one, yes, but by no means dangerous.
    â€˜Sir, your arm,’ said Rosamund with all the flair of a true Edwardian gentlewoman, although she was hard put to it to hide her amusement.
    â€˜A pleasure, madam, a pleasure.’ What else could the floundering colonel say?
    â€˜I trust so,’ said Rosamund.
    The path widened a little. They proceeded to negotiate it together, her hand light on his arm, her parasol shading them both. The sea was a shimmer of light, the air touched by the faintest of breezes.
    â€˜A beautiful day,’ said Colonel Brecht.
    â€˜How fortunate we are,’ murmured Rosamund, ‘although privilege is an uncomfortable garment in a world of misery. But one must wear it bravely and without hypocrisy. What would happen if, driven by conscience, I cast mine off? A thousand shameless people would rush to pick it up.’
    â€˜True, madam, yes, true.’ The colonel guided her slowly round a corner, Rosamund in her white shoes picking her way carefully. ‘One must, however, do what one can to raise the lot of the poor.’
    â€˜Your English is so good, sir, that we are actually holding a positive conversation.’
    â€˜The leg is being pulled, madam?’ said the colonel.
    â€˜I’m a little disgraceful at times,’ murmured Rosamund.
    â€˜You are a very good billiards player.’
    â€˜I’m delighted to hear it, Colonel Brecht. What woman could wish for sweeter praise?’
    â€˜You use your cue most efficiently, most.’
    â€˜Oh, pray continue,’ said Rosamund, ‘I’m enthralled.’
    The scent of wild shrubs and aromatic lavender, sharpened by the clean air and the light breeze, was a fragrance that invested the walk with enchantment. It made Colonel Brecht sigh, and his sigh made Rosamund smile.
    They reached the beach. Its sand was golden. A man and a woman were disporting themselves in the sea, their cotton bathing suits glistening.
    â€˜I must try that while the weather remains warm,’ said the colonel.
    â€˜I too am tempted,’ said Rosamund.
    â€˜You have brought your costume, madam?’
    â€˜I always do. I’ve always managed to take a dip once or twice during October.’
    â€˜Ah,’ said the colonel, and emitted another sigh. The thought of Rosamund Knight clad in a bathing costume, her abundance at the mercy of clinging wet cotton—
    â€˜
Himmel
,’ he breathed.
    â€˜Colonel