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

library as she walked in. Her nightly practice at her spinet had ended, but
I'd been so absorbed in my work that I hadn't noticed when the music stopped.
"A letter to Cousin Oliver," I replied.
The early part of the evening had passed pleasantly enough amid familial co
ngratulations on my recovery. Diverting attention from myself, I had given
all the credit to Dr. Beldon, much to his great enjoyment. Father and Eliza
beth, who, along with Jericho, knew the full truth about my changed nature,
required a more detailed account from me, which I'd promised, but had yet
to provide. By subtle gesture and with a well-placed word or two, I gave th
em to understand that my healing was connected to my change, and thus not a
topic for general discussion. We'd quietly arranged to talk later. As I ha
d no
interest in Mother's card game and was too restless to read, I'd taken sanctu
ary in the library to deal with some necessary correspondence.
"But you just sent one only . . ." Her voice trailed off.
"I know, but much has occurred since my last missive."
She thought about that awhile, then came over to stand next to Father's desk
, where I happened to be working. "I have something for you," she said, pull
ing a flat packet from her skirt pocket.
I instantly recognized it. "My journal!"
She gave it over. "I kept it from your things when Mother was having your roo
m cleaned out. I was afraid she'd either throw it away or read it herself, an
d I didn't think you'd have liked either of those choices."
"You're right, I wouldn't. Thank you."
"I didn't read it," she added.
This surprised me, not because Elizabeth was a prying sort of person, but b
ecause at the time she'd thought me dead. "Why not?"
"I couldn't bring myself to. These are your words and your thoughts, I just
couldn't bear the idea of reading them so soon after .. . anyway, I wanted o
nly to keep them safe. From her. I don't know what I hated most, her utter c
oldness over you or the way she ransacked your room like a bloody vulture."
Mother again. "It's all over now."
She put her hand on mine. "Yes, thank God."
"It would have been all right if you had read it. There's nothing in here tha
t I wouldn't have minded sharing with you and Father."
She smiled at that. "But you're back and there's no need, is there?"
"May there never be another," I solemnly intoned, putting my hand over my
heart.
That brought out another smile, which was most pleasing. Her good humor a
nd mine restored, I picked up my pen and regarded the sheet of paper befo
re me, wondering what to put down next.
"Mind if I keep you company?" From one of the desk drawers she pulled out
a penknife and some goose quills.
"I should welcome it," I said absently.
Apparently Elizabeth was prepared to wait for Father to join us before call
ing for my promised explanation. Taking a chair
next to the desk and close to my candle, she began carving a point on one of
the quills. "Are you going to tell Oliver about what's happened to you?"
A brief laugh escaped me. "Hardly, or he'd think that the Fonteyn half of m
y blood had finally boiled my brain. Did I ever mention to you that tour we