Viper Wine Read Online Free PDF

the word ‘yes’ in little audible gasps, seeming to inhale Venetia’s anxiety, her big body absorbing it like a bullfrog.
    Sir Kenelm had done Venetia an injury she had been nursing like an ulcer. Now she could claim sympathy for it. He had brought her, as a present from the Continent, a pair of revolting snails, whorly and horned. ‘He said their slime might be taken as a cure for my complexion, “to hasten its recovery from childbirth” – those were his self-same words.’ As Venetia started to cry, very sorry for herself, her perfect nose growing quite pink, Begg’s eyes focused on a spot above her head, so intently they almost crossed.
    ‘And his books! He is a man possessed. If he can come by any book, in any language, he must buy it, though there is no shelf left at home, and he can never read them all. And yet he piles them about the house, and touches them fore and aft with his loving hands . . . Sometimes I wish I were a book, that he might make such love to me!’
    Begg shook her head gravely, tutting, though Venetia was laughing and crying simultaneously. Thus unburdened, sniffing with satisfaction and dabbing her face, she followed Begg’s eyes up and flinched as, right above her head, she saw a tiny spider descending from the rafters.
    ‘Don’t mind him, my lady, that’s just my old spinner called Joe,’ said Begg. ‘Him’ll stop his weaving once we have an idea of how to help my Lady Diggy.’ As Begg spoke, her empty fingers twiddled forwards. ‘I think you would do well to receive help, my lady, and it doesn’t seem like many are there that can or will help you, except perhaps some little friends of mine.’ Begg reversed the direction of her twiddling fingers.
    ‘As it happens, a great dame called Lady Lily Trickle is staying with me today. Perhaps you knows her, as fine ladies do tends to knows one another.’
    ‘No,’ said Venetia.
    ‘Lady Lily Trickle,’ called Begg, ringing a bell, ‘wills you join us?’
    There was a muffled noise of alarm behind the curtain to the adjoining room, as if Lady Trickle had forgotten to prepare herself in time.
    Begg Gurley dropped her voice discreetly low, and said to Venetia: ‘My Lady Trickle is approaching eighty year old, but as you will see I have helped her stay a very dainty lady. She has been courted by a great prince in the past and she is very friendly with fairies.’
    Her ladyship struggled out from behind the curtain. She was between three and four foot tall, and her head was covered in a downy blonde hair, rather scant, and her face was round and waxy, like a mooncalf. She was wearing a damask kirtle and mochado waistcoat, and Venetia wondered how she dared. The local sumptuary laws meant that only an alderman or sheriff’s wife could wear mochado. Still, she was the size of a child, and perhaps the rules were excepted for fairies’ friends. Her eyelids were heavy, which gave her a look of insolent pride. She did not speak.
    ‘Good afternoon, my lady,’ said Begg. ‘Pray, nod once to indicate you are a living person and not an happarition of conjurement!’
    She nodded.
    ‘Pray nod to indicate the truth, and stamp to shew a lie. Do you have help maintaining your beauty, my Lady Trickle?’
    She both stamped and nodded, being confused.
    ‘We shall try again, dear. Do you have help maintaining your beauty?’
    She nodded.
    ‘First, for the protection of our souls, are you in league with the Luciferian?’
    She stamped.
    ‘Good. Are you assisted in the care of your skin by right and proper tidy little people?’
    She nodded.
    ‘How do you pay them – with silver?’
    She stamped her foot.
    ‘With gold?’
    She nodded.
    ‘Thank you, my Lady Trickle, I expect if we are so lucky we will summon some of the tidy folk now to see if they can help our friend Lady Diggy in her trouble.’
    Lady Trickle stamped anxiously, twice.
    ‘What is it pray? Oh, yes. You are concerned that the tidy folk will not come if Lady Diggy can see