Destroying Angel Read Online Free Page B

connection with our remarkable grandmother. He wishes to capture a beast from the famous Chillingham white cattle, whose territory you have just invaded, and to breed a domestic strain. I understand that a wealthy white rancher in America has offered him a considerable amount of money and what he offered me was the last temptation.’
    ‘To do what exactly?’ I asked.
    He shrugged. ‘To work on his estate and to extract a new-born calf from the cattle to send to Texas.’
    ‘Surely that will be very difficult – and from what you’ve told me of the cattle, very dangerous.’
    Again that dismissive shrug. ‘True, but I will receive enough money to return to Arizona – or to remain in Britain. I have grown rather fond of Scotland,’ he added wistfully. ‘It wasn’t until I came to Staines that we found out we were related. Quite a coincidence.’
    That word again, I thought.
    ‘I will take you to meet him in the morning.’
    ‘Why not now?’ I asked.
    ‘He had to go to Newcastle unexpectedly. A change in the weather, by which outdoor photography is dictated. He said he was expecting a visitor from Scotland, but did not mention a name, only that this person was bringing back a dog that belonged to him—’
    I bristled at that assumption as he went on. ‘I think it would be best if you stayed here tonight. You are tired and need rest; I am sure it has all been a rather trying experience. Hubert is notoriously absent-minded, except where his passion for photography is concerned. Mrs Robson, the housekeeper, did not mention this morning thatshe was expecting a visitor. There will be nothing prepared for you.’
    He smiled. ‘You shall have my bed. I shall sleep in here—’ And cutting short my protests, he said, ‘Sleeping under a roof is a fairly new experience. I have spent most of my life in a teepee or under the sky. A bed of the kind provided with blankets and pillows of soft down is still a novelty.’
    A slight pause then without the least embarrassment, he added: ‘But you must be comfortable before you retire. There is a water closet at the side of the cottage – you may have noticed it.’
    When I returned, perhaps aware of my doubtful acceptance of his hospitality – here I was spending the night in a cottage with a man I had met only once, but instinctively trusted – he bowed, opening the door to the bedroom.
    ‘Take Thane with you, he will be company if you wake during the night,’ he said, handing me my valise.
    I had decided to send my small travelling trunk in advance, leaving my hands free. I need both for bicycling, but I had an excellent roomy saddle bag for my valise, very practical and by courtesy of Jack.
    Jack, I thought, with a sudden shaft of pain. Is he lying in bed in Glasgow in the arms of his new love? Such imaginings are the circuit to despair. A full moon glowed in through a window that lacked curtains or shutters. Its light streamed across the room, exploring corners, like an eager watchful face.
    I believed I would never sleep, though Thane settled down on the floor, unperturbed and soon snoring gently. At last I closed my eyes, and opened them again to find the moon had been replaced by bright sunlight.
    It was morning, and Thane had gone. I opened the door,but there was no sign of him or of Wolf Rider. They had not been long absent, for there was a basin of warm water and a towel in readiness for my morning ablutions.
    In the kitchen, breakfast had been prepared. There was a kettle on the hob, and I lifted the lid of a pan to find porridge. Rider had certainly adapted to some British habits, I thought, recalling the clean crisp sheets and pillowcase, provided by the Staines housekeeper no doubt, and easier than sleeping outdoors in our cold climate.
    I had just poured a second cup of tea when the door opened and Thane rushed in looking pleased, wagging his tail and dancing around his new friend. At least he was happy and I am ashamed to say that I felt suddenly quite