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

lmost stepped backward. Almost. Her rages were not uncommon. We'd all see
n this side of her many times and learned by trial and error how to avoid
them, but this one mystified me. What had I done? Why was she—?
"You dare to mock me, Jonathan? You dare?"
I raised one hand in a calming gesture. "No, Mother, never."
"You dare?" Her voice rose enough to break my ears, enough to reach the ser
vants' hall. Hopefully, they would know better than to come investigate the
din.
"No, Mother. I swear to you, I am not mocking you. I sincerely apologize th
at I have given offense." Such words came easily; she'd given me ample oppo
rtunity for practice over the weeks. I finished off with a bow to emphasize
my complete sincerity. Yet another opportunity to study the floor.
Thank God that this time it worked. Straightening, I saw her color slowly re
turn to normal and the lines in her face abruptly smooth out. This swift rec
overy was more disturbing to me than her instant rage. Since her return, I'd
quickly adjusted to the fact that she was not at all like other people, but
that was hardly a solace during those times when her differences were so ac
utely demonstrated.
Dominance established, she resumed where she'd left off, almost as though
nothing had happened. "You are going to Cambridge, Jonathan. Cambridge i
n England, Jonathan," she repeated, putting a razor edge on each syllable
as though to underscore my abysmal ignorance.
It took me some moments to understand, to sort out the mistake. I suppose t
hat she'd been anticipating a torrent of enthusiasm from me. Instead, my fa
ce fell and from my lips popped the first words that came to mind. "But I w
ant to go to Harvard."
That's when the explosion truly came and she started calling me names.
You know the rest.
What was she saying now? Something about the virtues of Cambridge. I did no
t interrupt; it would have been pointless. She wasn't interested in my opin
ions or plans I might have made. Any and all objections had been drowned in
the hot tidal wave of her temper. To resurrect them again would only aggra
vate her more. As Elizabeth had reminded me, I could sort it all out with F
ather later.
Did Father know about this? I couldn't believe that he would not have spoke
n to me about it before leaving yesterday. Surely he would have said someth
ing, for he, too, had planned that I should go to Harvard. That she had car
efully waited until he was absent before breaking her news took on a fresh
and ominous meaning, but I couldn't quite see the reason behind it yet. It
was difficult to think while she talked on and on, pausing only to get the
occasional nodding agreement from me at appropriate times.
Why was she so concerned about my education after fifteen years of blithe n
eglect? Marie Fonteyn Barrett had been singularly uninterested in either of
her children since we were very small. It was a mixed blessing for us, for
growing up without a mother had left something of a blank spot in our live
s. On the other hand, what sort of broken monsters might we have been had s
he stayed with Father instead of moving to Philadelphia?
She'd only made the long journey from there to our home on Long Island becau
se of all the turmoil in that city. With the rebels stirring things up at ev
ery opportunity, it had become too dangerous to remain, so she had written F