"P. N. Elrod - Jonathan Barrett 01 - Red Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

wly across the hall to the parlor and paused in the doorway, waiting to be n
oticed.
Mother had her back to me, so it was Deborah Hardinbrook who looked up and
stopped her conversation. Her brother, seated next to her, politely stood
. Mother turned and assumed an unfamiliar smile.
"Ah, Jonathan. At last. Do come in and meet my very dear friends." She con
ducted us all through formal introductions.
On my best behavior, I bowed low over Mrs. Hardinbrook's hand and expresse
d my pleasure at meeting her in French. She was about Mother's age, with a
hard eye and lines around her mouth that may have been placed there by la
ughter but not joy. She assessed me quickly, efficiently, and was fulsome
with complements to Mother about me. I felt like a statue on display, not
noticed for myself, but for the enlargement of its owner.
Dr. Beldon was in his thirties, which also made him seem quite old to me. H
e was wiry and dark, his brown eyes so large and rounded that they seemed t
o swell from their sockets. They fastened upon me with an assessment simila
r to his sister's but with a different kind of intensity, though what it wa
s, I could not have said. We bowed and exchanged the necessary social pleas
antries toward one another.
Mrs. Hardinbrook resumed her talk with Mother, giving her a full account of
the harrowing journey from Philadelphia. At first I listened with resentfu
l politeness, then with interest, for despite her exaggerations of manner,
she was amusing. Mother actually seemed to be enjoying herself. Beldon smil
ed at appropriate moments and occasionally added comments. Unlike his siste
r, he made an effort to include me in the conversation. Smiling. Smiling. S
miling.
Toad-eaters, I thought behind my own twisted lips. Father had taught me to r
ecognize their sort and to be 'ware of them.
"They're full of flattery and little else, laddie," he'd told me. "Having no
merit of their own, they try to put themselves ahead by using others. Usele
ss bloodsuckers, the lot of them, always looking out for their own good, but
no one else's, and with bottomless stomachs. Don't let them fool you with f
air words or use you in any way. No need to waste your time with any of them
."
Perhaps Mother had not heard his opinion, or chose to ignore it.
"Where will your journey finally take you, Mrs. Hardinbrook?" I asked when
an opening presented itself.
Her face was bright with a purposeful shortage of understanding. "I beg you
r pardon, Master Barrett?"
I ignored the little jibe of her address, meant to place me on a level with
beardless children. "Your destination, madam. I was inquiring—"
"This is their destination, Jonathan," Mother said firmly, indicating the ho
use with the curve of one hand. "Deborah and her brother are my guests."
This was not unexpected, but certainly unpleasant. Mother's guests, not Fa
ther's, and absolutely no mention was made of when they would leave.
"How delightful," I told them, my smile entirely genuine for there'd be the
devil to pay when Father came home, and 1 was looking forward to that conf
rontation.
Supper was less of a disaster than I'd anticipated.
When Elizabeth returned from her ride, Jericho had headed her off at the st