Sips of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

objects behind, even though the French police had begun to
take an interest in her activities. Grandmother had delayed her
departure several weeks while she supervised the packing and
removal of her favorite furnishings.
    "Sit down, child, while I go fetch Keith a
beer."
    "A beer?"
    "His favorite: a Schlitz."
    "Oh." Liliana sat down on the green velvet
sofa and waited for the show.
    Bridgewater came into the room while still
zipping up. When he saw Liliana, he immediately dropped his hands
to his sides and rubbed his thighs.
    "Fancy home your grandma has here."
    "Yes, she's collected the furniture over many
years."
    "I bet. They real or reproductions?"
    "Real."
    Marie swept into the room holding a can of
Schlitz in one hand and a beer mug in the other. She handed both to
Keith.
    "Don't need the mug." He snatched the beer
from her hand.
    "I should have known."
    "I hope I'm not intruding on your visit, Mr.
Bridgewater," said Liliana.
    "Hell, no. Makes no difference to me." He
plopped down in a chair once owned by Charles VI. Liliana noted how
inappropriate he looked.
    Marie seated herself next to her
granddaughter.
    "Aren't you two going to have beers?"
    "Our tastes are a bit more refined,
Keith."
    "Nothing like a good beer. My dad loved the
stuff so much, he used to joke about wanting to be fed beer up
until the last, even if it was intravenously."
    Marie screwed up her face. "Glad I never ran
into your father."
    He charged into the reason for his visit.
"I'd like to bring my son over for a visit. Prove I've got a
friend. He's a little peculiar. Lives in Greenwich Village in the
city." He lowered his voice. "Into leather and piercings, that kind
of thing."
    "Really." Liliana noted how her grandmother's
voice had brightened up.
    "But don't mention the earring. He's also got
rings stuck in his nipples. God, I don't want to know where else he
may have them."
    "I would."
    "Uh?"
    "Grandmother said that she would never bring
it up in conversation." Liliana noticed that her grandmother had
kicked off her shoes and was rubbing the sole of her right foot
against the base of the table separating them from Bridgewater.
    "So when can he come over?" Marie eagerly
asked.

Chapter 8
     
     
    Matilda had a daughter. A very pretty--no,
beautiful-- daughter, with blonde ringlets floating down upon her
shoulders and blue almond-shaped eyes. Long lashes naturally darker
than her hair. A nose slender and pert. Full lips tinged a tomato
red and teeth even, straight, and bright. Skin fair, clear, and
he'd be willing to bet her flesh was soft and smooth. A body curved
with luscious baby fat invited his touch. A student of dancing, she
stood tall, although she was only five-six.
    "Has Mom invited you to the recital?"
    "Not yet. When will it be?"
    "In two weeks. I'll be sure to get an
invitation out to you."
    "And I'll be sure I'm there, ma
petite."
    De Sade's housekeeper, Matilda, did not live
on the premises, and she was limited to the public areas of the
house. She kept the ground floor clean and ran errands during the
day. The sun did not prevent Louis from leaving the house, but
sometimes the languor that set in during the daylight hours slowed
him down. Certainly he didn't want to waste energy on the mundane
when the lower classes were eager for work.
    Infrequently the housekeeper would bring her
daughter.
    "Cecelia, we'd better go now. Your father
will be home soon."
    Matilda never allowed her daughter more than
a few words with Louis, explaining that she didn't want Cecelia to
be an annoyance. But Louis knew better than that. She simply didn't
trust Sade. On the other hand, Sade did everything in his power to
spend time with the seventeen-year-old.
    "Perhaps you could have a role in one of my
plays," Sade offered the wide-eyed girl.
    "You write plays?"
    "Oui, and quite a few have been
produced."
    "Where? In New York City?"
    "In France."
    "Paris?" she breathlessly asked.
    He neglected to tell the girl that the plays
had been produced at the