Ancient Appetites by Oisin McGann Read Free Book Online Page B

sideboard, he was about to mutter a string of curses when a parlourmaid came in with covered platters of eggs, bacon, crumpets and kippers. But it was the thick slabs of fresh toast that he'd really been waiting for. In a manor house, everybody served themselves at breakfast, and he took ample portions of the bacon and eggs from the heated silver serving dishes, as well as plenty of toast – done on one side only, as all civilized toast should be. Nate could face any morning as long as he could have his hot buttered toast.
    Sitting down opposite Tatiana, he poured himself some tea from the pot and reached for the sugar.
    'Is Gerald up yet?'
    'You must joking.' Tatiana smirked. 'He was first down. Apparently he's made a discovery that could change the course of science. He's been rabbiting on about your adventures last night to anybody who'll listen.'
    'Has he really?'
    'Oh, yes,' Daisy spoke up. 'You were quite the hero, he says. Right up until that part where you . . . injured yourself. The hazards of riding bareback, I suppose.'
    Nate coughed into his tea, and Tatiana giggled.
    'Are you sure you're comfortable?' Daisy added. 'Should we get you a softer chair?'
    Tatiana was noisily blowing her nose in her handkerchief, her cheeks blushing violently.
    'Gerald has a habit of stretching the truth with his storytelling,' Nate grunted.
    'I hope so' – Daisy sipped her tea – 'for the sake of the family line.'
    Nate threw her a savage stare, and she put her hand to her mouth, turning crimson. It was not the thing to say to a man who had just lost his brother.
    'I'm sorry' she stammered quietly. 'I . . . I wasn't thinking—'
    Nathaniel continued to glare at her.
    'Gerald's giving everyone else the tour down at the stables,' Tatty whined, her mind still on the monster. 'They wouldn't let me go. Said it wouldn't be decent for me to see the thing. It's so unfair.'
    'Well, don't you mind them.' Nate winked at her. 'None of them will get to ride it.'
    'Oh, yes please!' she exclaimed. 'Do you think I could—?'
    She was interrupted by the appearance of Roberto at the door. Nate stood and hurried over. Berto gave him a grim smile.
    'Nate! God, it's good to see you! Welcome home!'
    'How the hell are you, you old rogue?' Nate grasped his hand. 'You haven't changed a bit!'
    It wasn't true. Berto looked pale and shaken, and Nate couldn't tell if it was the shock of Marcus's death or the realization that he was now the Wildenstern Heir. Or it might just have been the result of a morning spent in the company of their father.
    'How is he?' Nate asked.
    'Like a bear with a headache,' Roberto replied wryly. 'I feel as if I've been put through the meat-grinder. Even the dogs are scared of him today – God, I hate those dogs. I haven't seen him in such a foul temper for a long time. He . . . eh, he wants to see you immediately.'
    Nate looked over at his breakfast.
    'I wouldn't keep him waiting,' Roberto urged him.
    'Right, then.' Nate glanced uneasily towards the open doors of the elevator at the end of the corridor.
    He wondered if all sons were as terrified of their fathers.
    'It'll be fine,' Berto said in an effort to reassure him. 'I've . . . I've softened him up for you.'
    Nate gave his older brother a sour look and strode out the door and down towards the elevator.
    'We'll all be thinking of you!' Roberto called from behind him.

V
THE PATRIARCH

    N ate stood motionless in the mechanical lift. A teenage boy in a braided uniform hovered in the corner by the door, with his hand on the brass control lever. It was pushed all the way forward. The elevator climbed steadily through the floors. Nate ran his sweating hands down his jacket and tried to loosen his stiff collar. He had told himself many times that there was no real reason to be intimidated by his father. The old man had never hurt him, had never laid a hand on him or brutalized him in the way that some of his schoolfriends had been by their fathers. In fact, his father had paid little