"Cross CHILDREN Walk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

"Master Porfirio's not frowzy!" little Ethelberthina objected.

A gasp of astonishment gusted from the other members of Household Eyebright. An octet of horrified stares fixed themselves on the youngest daughter of the house, a pert, plump lass of twelve summers. Ethelberthina met her family's collective gawk with the same cool self-possession that had caused all of her teachers to write "A young woman who exhibits many potential leadership qualities. If you don't beat them out of her, I will," on her progress reports.

"Ethelberthina, how dare you interrupt your father!" Goodwife Eyebright exclaimed.

"Oh, poo," said the unnatural child, crossing her arms and looking for all the world like a tax assessor. "Dad should know the real story about the fuss at school. Those old buzzards said they fired Master Porfirio for inapt morals, but the truth is he talked back to the dean."

"If he talked back to someone in authority, he got what he deserved," Mayor Eyebright opined, giving the girl a meaningful look. What it meant was: Don't push your luck.

"Poo," said Ethelberthina a second time. "Our philosophy master taught us that authority without virtue merits no obedience. Anyway, it all depends on what he talked back to the dean about, doesn't it?"

Mayor Eyebright had long known that Ethelberthina was nothing like her two elder sisters. Mauve and Demystria were normal females, properly deferential. The closest Ethelberthina ever came to deference was knowing how to spell it correctly. Still, a father's duty was to make all his girls into proper women. He had to try.

"You know, Ethelberthina," he said slowly, "you are a very exceptional girl."

Ethelberthina knew what that meant. She stood up from the table with the weariness of Here we go again upon her. "Another trip to the woodshed?"

Mayor Eyebright shook his head. "Not this time. No sense beating a dead horse. Thus, instead, I will be removing you from Overford Academy soonest."

"What?!" For the first time in her young life, Ethelberthina was actually attentive to her father's words.

"No need to thank me. I'm merely correcting an honest mistake for which I blame no one but your mother. And her meddling old Granny Ethelberthina. It was that woman who insisted we put you to school." Here he gave his wife a reproving look.

Goodwife Eyebright, pregnant with Number Eight, murmured almost inaudibly into her vanished lap, "You didn't have to do what Granny said, dear."

Her husband scowled. "Of course I did; she was rich! I refused to risk offending her until she was safely dead and our inheritance secured." His scowl shifted to his youngest daughter. "Sneaky old cow."

"Daddy, I did say I'd share Great-granny's money with you as soon as I'm old enough to get it out of the trust fund," Ethelberthina said sweetly. "And so I will . . . if I remember. Master Porfirio once taught that a broken heart affects the memory, and I would be so heartbroken if you took me out of school!"

"There," Mayor Eyebright said bitterly. "That's what comes of educating females: Flagrant displays of logic at the dinner table! Well, my girl, you may be your great-granny's sole heir, with the money held in trust until you're sixteen, but the king's law says that if you marry before then it becomes your husband's property when you do. Perhaps you follow my reasoning?"

Ethelberthina's face tensed, but she maintained a brave front. "You'd force me to wed some local lout, except first you'll make sure he signs you a promissory note for most of my trust fund."

Her father smiled. "You are a smart child."

"Smart enough. The king's law still requires a consenting bride, and I won't."

Mayor Eyebright looked casually up at the ceiling. "Dear," he said, "how much more is sixteen than twelve?"

"Four," she answered, suspicious of this arithmetical turn in the conversation.

"Four years, four years . . ." he mused, tapping his fingertips together. "Four long, exhausting, years. Four empty years just waiting to be filled with all sorts of things that can make a young womanЧeven a young woman of your feminine shortcomingsЧmore than a little eager to become a bride. Anyone's bride, as long as marriage means escape." He leaned forward with a wolfish smile.

Ethelberthina's lip trembled, but in a wobbly voice she still defied him: "I'll run away!"

"I doubt it. You're wise enough to scrape away the rind of romantic folderol from the harsh facts of existence. I needn't tell you what sort of life you'd lead in the wide world at your tender age with neither money nor skills."

Ethelberthina lowered her eyes and bowed her head over her plate. Her father allowed the full impact of this sudden quiet to settle in securely over his family. When he was satisfied with the depth and immobility of the subservient hush, he announced, "You will finish out the semesterЧonly a week left, no sense in wasting tuitionЧbut when that's done you will return to a young woman's proper occupations. That's all." With that, he resumed his dinnertime discursion as if the exchange with his daughter had never occurred. The girl herself ate her dinner a little more slowly and quietly than usual. This added weight of silence on Ethelberthina's part was duly noted and pleased her father no end.