The Devil at Archangel by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online Page A

all its workings. Everything—the
    heat, the parched-looking ground, the vivid blossoms on the trees and
    shrubs that lined the road—seemed so alien somehow after the
    gentleness of the English countryside. In spite of the neatness of the
    cultivated acres, bisected by irrigation channels, Christina had a sense
    of wildness, of a landscape that had not and never would be
    completely tamed.
    She took a handkerchief, from her shoulder bag and wiped the
    perspiration from her forehead and upper lip. The car was running
    along at the side of the coast now, the road falling away unnervingly

    to the silver beach far below. Christina gazed longingly at the
    creaming surf curling softly on to the sands, and imagined the faint
    salt-laden breeze that would be blowing off the sea. The heat inside ■
    the car was beginning to make her head throb, and she was aware of a
    slight feeling of nausea. Surely the journey couldn't take much
    longer.
    She leaned back against the padded seat, closing her eyes and trying
    to ignore the frequent lurches as the car coped with the uneven
    surface of the road. Then, just as she thought she was going to be
    forced to ask Louis to stop the car, the ordeal came to an end. The car
    slowed, turned sharply and settled on to a surface that felt as smooth
    as silk after the horrors of the past few miles. Half unwillingly, she
    opened her eyes and found that they were travelling suddenly under a
    cool green arch of trees.
    'Nearly home, missy.' Louis' voice at her side was brisk and
    reassuring and Christina realised gratefully that her discomfort had
    been noticed. She could not repress g feeling of excitement as the
    seconds passed.
    One last, deep bend and the house lay in front of them, shaded by tall
    encircling trees. It was painted white, a long two-storey building with
    a wide terrace running its full length on the ground floor and echoed
    by the balcony with its wrought iron balustrade outside the upper
    rooms. In front of the house formal lawns, and .flower beds vibrant
    with blossoms stretched away, and Christina noticed that there were
    sprinklers at work. The car stopped at the foot of the terrace steps and
    Christina saw that a tall woman was waiting at the front door to greet
    them. By her dark dress and spodess white apron, she guessed she
    was the housekeeper. She waited at the side of the car while Louis
    helped Mrs Brandon out. The air was warm and filled with a dozen
    pungent scents. Christina breathed deeply, feeling the tension that
    had possessed her slowly draining away. She looked up at the
    housekeeper and smiled rather shyly, but the other woman did not

    respond. At closer quarters, Christina saw that she still bore the traces
    of an earlier beauty, although her face was haggard now, the
    cheekbones prominent under the coffee-coloured skin.
    'Ah, Madame Christophe.' Her cane firmly grasped, Mrs Brandon
    began a slow ascent of the wide shallow steps up to the terrace. 'Is
    everything well?'
    'Very well, madame ,' the housekeeper replied in a low voice. 'There
    have been no difficulties.'
    Mrs Brandon paused on the terrace to regain her breath and then
    gestured towards Christina who was following in her wake with
    Louis, who was carrying their cases.
    'This is Miss Bennett, Madame Christophe. You received my cable?'
    'A room has been prepared for her.' Madame Chris- tophe's dark eyes
    surveyed
    Christina
    indifferently.
    'Welcome
    to
    Archangel,
    mademoiselle."'
    Turning, she led the way into the house. The entrance hall was large
    and square with a floor coolly tiled in blue and green mosaics.
    Christina saw that the principal rooms all seemed to open off this hall,
    and glancing up she saw that the first floor also took the form of a
    gallery. At the foot of the stairs and dominating the hall was a large
    statue in marble. Christina gazed at this wonderingly. It was a statue
    of a young man wearing armour and wielding a businesslike-looking
    spear with which he seemed about to