"Mercedes Lackey - Dumb Feast" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Dumb Feast


Aaron Brubaker considered himself a rational man, a logical man, a modern man
of the enlightened nineteenth century. He was a prosperous lawyer in the City,
he had a new house in the suburbs, and he cultivated other men like himself,
including a few friends in Parliament. He believed in the modern; he had gas
laid on in his house, had indoor bathrooms with the best flushing toilets (not
that a polite man would discuss such things in polite company), and had a
library filled with the writings of the best minds of his time. Superstition
and old wives' tales had no place in his cosmos. So what he was about to do
was all the more extraordinary.

If his friends could see him, he would have died of shame. And yetтАФand yet he
would have gone right on with his plans.

Nevertheless, he had made certain that there was no chance he might be seen;
the servants had been dismissed after dinner, and would not return until
tomorrow after church services. They were grateful for the half-day off, to
spend Christmas Eve and morning with their own families, and as a consequence
had not questioned their employer's generosity. Aaron's daughter, Rebecca, was
at a properly chaperoned party for young people which would end in midnight
services at the Presbyterian Church, and she would not return home until well
after one in the morning. And by then, Aaron's work would be done, whether it
bore fruit, or not.

The oak-paneled dining room with its ornately carved table and chairs was
strangely silent, without the sounds of servants or conversation. And he had
not lit the gaslights of which he was so proud; there must only be two candles
tonight to light the proceedings, one for him, one for Elizabeth. Carefully,
he laid out the plates, the silver; arranged Elizabeth's favorite winter
flowers in the centerpiece. One setting for himself, one for his wife. His
dear, and very dead, wife.

His marriage had not precisely been an arranged affair, but it had been made
in accordance with Aaron's nature. He had met Elizabeth in church; had
approved of what he saw. He had courted her, in proper fashion; gained consent
of her parents, and married her. He had seen to it that she made the proper
friends for his position; had joined the appropriate societies, supported the
correct charities. She had cared for his home, entertained his friends in the
expected manner, and produced his child. In that, she had been something of a
disappointment, since it should have been "children," including at least one
son. There was only Rebecca, a daughter rather than a son, but he had forgiven
her for her inability to do better. Romance did not precisely enter into the
equation. He had expected to feel a certain amount of modest grief when
Elizabeth diedтАФ

But not the depth of loss he had uncovered. He had mourned unceasingly,
confounding himself as well as his friends. There simply was no way of
replacing her, the little things she did. There had been an artistry about the