Читать онлайн «Blood Red»
Автор Graham Heather
Heather Graham
Blood Red
To New Orleans.
To Sean and everyone at the Monteleone.
For Alice Duffy, with lots of love, respect and
tremendous admiration.
Especially for Kate Duffy—“Duffee” will always mean
pure excellence—with deepest gratitude, always.
For Christine Feehan (and clan), Cherry Adair, Molly
and Kate, Brian and Kristi Ahlers, Deborah and Harvey,
Lance and Rich, Debbie Richmond, Pat and Patricia,
Bonnie, Kathleen, Aleka, Toni, Sally and all those who
were so willing to hop on and give New Orleans and
me their very best.
And for Connie and T, who get me through
everything.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Prologue
There had never been a more beautiful bride, never a more picture-perfect wedding. The weather had bowed down in honor of the occasion, and there was a slight cooling breeze. The night was neither too warm nor too cold, and the time had been carefully chosen; the sun was just setting in the western sky. The bride had longed for a castle, and they had found an ancient cathedral perched atop a hill within an old fortress town.
The groom was gallantly trying to be everything the bride’s fairytale prince should be. He had spent his adult life trying to live life by his own code, which demanded decency to his fellow human beings. He didn’t bend easily to anyone’s whim, but he had learned the importance of compromise, and of being compassionate. He knew himself capable of error and had learned to admit it.
He could honestly say he was ready to battle for the downtrodden or the underdog, and he had lived through enough battles to see many of the errors made around him. More than anything, as he prepared to wed his stunningly bride, he could say that he loved her dearly, more than life itself.Thus…this wedding.
Whatever she longed for, a castle deep in a land foreign to him, an elegant horse-drawn carriage, or anything that could possibly complete the fantasy wedding of her heart, she could have. It helped that events had recently turned in his favor; where for many years he had worked to support what he prayed was a talent, he had suddenly discovered himself a rich man, almost overnight. And though the bride hailed from this part of the world, they had met in the United States. She had heard him playing; he had looked up and met her eyes. Life hadn’t been the same from that moment on. But since many of their closest friends were still struggling financially, he and his bride had—very tactfully, they hoped—managed to treat their friends who couldn’t afford the trip, providing an enjoyable respite from the rigors of life, as well as the pleasure of the wedding itself.
A lavish runner extended the length of the cathedral aisle. The groom, elegant in a black tux, stood next to his identically attired groomsmen. As the music played and the priest cleared his throat, they all looked to the rear for the entry of the bride and her party.
