"P. N. Elrod - Jonathan Barrett 03 - Death Masque" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Long Island, September 1777
Molly Audy opened her eyes, smiled, and said, "I'm that sorry to lose you as
a caller, Johnny boy, I really am."
"You're very kind, Miss Audy," I replied lightly, looking down at her with m
y own smile firmly in place. Her little bedroom was a place of smiles for bo
th of us, but soon to end, alas.
"You're the kind one, I'm sure." She brushed a light hand over her bare brea
sts. "Some gentlemen I've known couldn't care less about how I feel, but you
take the trouble to do things right by meтАФand every single time. It's just
as well you call as late as you do. Come 'round any sooner and I'd not have
the strength left to deal with the others."
"You mean none of them bother toтАФ"
"I didn't say that. Some are just as nice, but if I let myself be as free with
them as I am with you ... well, I'd be an old woman in a month from all the g
ood feeling."
I laughed softly. "Now you're just flattering me, Mol-
"Not a bit of it. On nights when I know you're coming over, I hold myself b
ack with them and save it for you."
My jaw dropped quite a lot. "Good heavens, I had no idea. I am honored."

"And you really mean that, too. Some men don't give two figs for a whore's
feelings, but not you." She tucked her lower lip in briefly, then lifted he
r head enough to kiss my cheek before dropping back onto her pillow. "You'r
e a lovely, lovely man, Mr. Barrett, and I'm going to miss you terribly." N
ow her smooth face wrinkled up and her arms went hard around me and she abr
uptly hiccupped into a bout of sincere sobbing.
I held her close and made comforting noises and wasn't quite able to hold ba
ck a few tears of my own that unexpectedly spilled out. In a strangled voice
I assured her that she was a lovely, lovely woman and I would also miss her
, which was entirely true. In the year since we'd begun our pleasurable exch
anges, she'd become a very dear friend, and it was a raw blow to realize ane
w that this was the last night we'd be together for some considerable time t
o come, if ever again.
"Just look at us," she said, finally straightening. She groped for a handke
rchief from the small table next to the bed and used it thoroughly. "Goodne
ss, you'd think someone had died. You'll be coming back, won't you?"
"I... don't know."
Her eyes, reflecting her spirits, fell, but she nodded. "We're all in God's han
ds, Johnny boy. Well, I can at least pray for a safe crossing for you, if there
is such a thing these days."
"We've been told that there will be no trouble from the rebel ships."
"Rebels?" She snapped her fingers to dismiss their threat to my well-being. "I
t's the sea itself that's so dangerous. I lost my poor husband to it years bac
k, so don't you be forgettin' your own prayers as you go."
"I won't," I promised.
"There now, you come here for cheering up and I've gone all serious."
"It's all right."
She made herself smile once more for me, then slipped from the mess we'd m
ade of the bedclothes. She rose on her tiptoes, arms high overhead in a lu
xuriant stretch. I watched the easy movement of her rounded muscles, of