"Elrod, P.N. - Jonathan Barrett 02 - Death and the Maiden" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Long Island, September 1776
"But this is miraculous," said Dr. Beldon, lifting my elbow closer to his large, somewhat bulging eyes. Next he ran his fingers over the point where the bone break had been. "It's not possible. There's not a single sign that you were ever injured."
Which was of great relief to me. For a time I'd feared I would never recover the full use of my right arm. Beldon had chanced to call on me this evening just after I'd awakened and had been surprised to see that the sling I'd worn for nearly a week was gone.
"And there is no more discomfort when you move it?"
"None," I said. Days earlier, Beldon had expressed to me the need to rebreak the bone so as to properly set it again, but I'd been putting it off. Now I was very glad of that procrastination.
His fingers dug a bit more deeply into the muscle. "Make a fist," he ordered. "Open. Close. Now stretch your arm straight. Twist your hand at the wrist." Eyes shut, he concentrated on the movement. "Amazing. Quite amazing," he muttered.
"Yes, well, God has been most generous to me of late," I said with true sincerity.
Eyes open, now his brows went up. "But, Mr. Barrett. . ."
"You said yourself that it was a miracle," I reminded him. Our eyes locked. "But I don't think you need take any notice

of it. Should anyone be curious, you may certainly inform them that my arm has healed as you expected."
He didn't even blink. "Yes. I shall certainly do that." The only clue that anything was amiss was his slight flatness of tone and a brief slackening of expression.
"Nothing unusual about it at all," I emphasized.
"No . . . nothing un .. ."
I broke off my influence upon him and asked, "Are you finished, Doctor?"
Blink. "Yes, quite finished, Mr. Barrett, and may I express my delight that you are feeling better?"
We exchanged further pleasantries, then Beldon finally took his leave. My valet, Jericho, had silently watched everything from one corner of my room, his dark face sober and aloof yet somehow still managing to convey mild disapproval.
"It's only to spare us all unnecessary bother," I reminded him, shaking my shirtsleeve down.
"Of course, sir." He stepped forward to fasten the cuff.
"Very well, then. It's to spare me unnecessary bother."
"Is the truth so evil?" he asked, helping me put on my waistcoat.
"No, but it is unbelievable. And frightening. I've been frightened enough for myself; I've no wish to inflict that fear upon others."
"Yet it still exists."
"But I'm not afraid anymore. Bewildered, perhaps, butЧ"
"I was speaking of other members of the household."
"What other members? Who?"
He made a vague gesture rather akin to a shrug. "In the slave quarters. There are whisperings that a devil has jumped into you."
"Oh, really? For what purpose?"
"That has not yet been decided."
"Who is it that thinks so?"
His lips closed, and he busied himself at brushing lint from my shoulders.
"I hope you have discouraged such idle gossip," I said, adjusting my neckcloth. It had become rather tight in the last few moments.
"I have. There will be no problems from it. I only mentioned this because you were seen."
"Doing what?"
"Something .. . extraordinary. The person I spoke to said he saw you ... flying."
"Oh."
"Of course, no one really believed him, but his story was disturbing to the more gullible."
"You hardly surprise me." One or two of our slaves, not as well educated as Jericho, would certainly be prey to all sorts of midnight imaginings, especially if they'd been listening to fanciful tales before bedtime.
"Can you fly, Mr. Jonathan?" Jericho's face was utterly expressionless.
I gulped, my belly suddenly churning. "What of it, if I could?"
There was a considerable pause before he replied. "Then I would suggest that you be more discreet about it."
My belly stopped churning and went stone still. "You . . . you've seen me?"
"Yes."
Oh, dear.
He stopped brushing at lint and turned his attention to the shelves in my already orderly wardrobe.
"You seem to have taken it rather calmly."
"I assure you, I was most troubled when I saw you floating over the treetops yesterday evening . . ."
"But... ?"
"But you looked very happy," he admitted. "I concluded that anything capable of giving you such wholesome joy must not be a bad thing. Besides, my bomba has told me tales of his childhood that talk of men turning themselves into animals. If a man can learn the magic to become an animal, then why can a man not learn the magic to fly?"
"This is not magic, Jericho."