"Sheri S. Tepper - Beauty" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

Also, I see the way he watches me sometimesтАФGiles, not Father RaymondтАФwhich lets me know he
feels those same feelings. He is of good birth, but he is only a young man without fortune or rank, and
there is no question about his being a suitable prospect for the daughter of a duke. He is not. I know that,
and he knows it as well, but he is nice to me. He is thoughtful and kind and has never, even by so much
as a word, done anything improper toward me. Sometimes, after a lengthy rain, I will find my bench in
the garden carefully dried off and a rose laid upon it. I'm sure it is Giles who does it, but he doesn't say
anything, nor do I. Still, he is my friend. He would not act so otherwise.
My other friend is Beloved.
Her mother calls her Beloved, though her name is actually Mary Blossom. She is the daughter of
Dame Blossom, an artisan freeholder, a weaver, in the village. Dame Blossom is very much respected by
everyone because she is a midwife and can heal wounds and set bones. If there is trouble, better get
Dame Blossom and stay away from doctors, everyone says. It's true. From time to time one or the other
of the aunts has consulted a physician, and all the great scholars ever did was sniff at their piss, bleed
them dry, and give them some dreadful mixture thatтАФso says MartinтАФwould kill the old ladies off a few
years before their time. Beloved is my personal maid. She is also my friend and almost certainly my half
sister, almost my half-twin.
Not that Beloved is the only young one running about the castle who looks a lot like me. Everyone
pretends not to notice, but I would have to be blind not to see. When two mares who do not look alike
throw foals that look exactly alike, you know the same stallion has been at them, so it's clear my Papa
has been at Dame Blossom. That was sixteen or more years ago, of course, when she was younger and
prettier. I remember her when I was a little girl. She was quite slender and gay then. She has put on
weight since, and become very grave, which is a suitable style for a respected matron.
So, Beloved is my half sister, born on the same day I was, and she looks enough like me to be my
twin. Sometimes I love her and sometimes I hate her because she has a mother and I don't. We
sometimes dress up as each other and Beloved will take my place in the castle, in the dining hall or
sewing with the aunts, and they never know the difference. She can spend all day in the castle without
anyone guessing that she isn't me. But, if I go down to the village pretending to be the weaver-woman's
daughter, Dame Blossom takes one look at me and says, "Beauty, it isn't nice of you to tease me this
way. Go tell my silly daughter to come home."
That always makes me feel like crying for some reason. Maybe because she always knows right
away I'm not Beloved. You have to notice people to be that sure about them. Though I have thought that
maybe it is because she can see the burning thing in me. I know Beloved doesn't have one of those,
because I asked her. She wondered if it was like dyspepsia, and I told her it was not.
3

DAY OF STS. PETER AND JAMES, MAY, YEAR OF OUR LORD 1347
Yesterday my father, who is thirty-seven years of age, returned from pilgrimage to CanterburyтАФhe
has already made pilgrimages to the tombs of St. Francis of Assisi, St. Martin of Tours, St. Boniface at
Fulda, and St. James at Compostela, as well as to Glastonbury, Lindisfarne, Walsingham, Westminster,
St. Albans, and all places else where there are relics of note. Immediately upon his arrival, he told us he
intends to marry again. He told us his intended wife will arrive shortly with a small retinue, and that they
will all stay for the betrothal ceremonies. Her name is Sibylla de Vinciennes d'Argent. I detested her from
the moment I saw the miniature of her that Papa insisted we all admire.
You must not think this rejection of a stepmama is provoked by hostility toward another woman who
will take a beloved mama's place. I have heard tales like that, but I don't know whether I would have
loved Mama or not; she has given me no opportunity to find out. As for Sibylla's taking my place in my
father's affections, she can't take what I have never had. Though I am almost sixteen, he has done none
of the things one expects of a loving papa. He made no provision for my education, merely leaving me to
the mercies of the aunts. If Father Raymond hadn't taken me over, I should be as woefully ignorant about
many important things as they. Papa has made no effort to arrange a marriage for me. When I've raised