"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Madelaine 2 - In the Face of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

rug aside, and stepped down from the carriage, swinging the door behind her to close it. She was
about to turn when she felt her cloak snag on the door latch; as she struggled to free it, she
stumbled back against the coach.
"Allow me, Madame," said a voice from behind her; William Sherman reached out and
freed her cloak, then held out his hand to assist her to the wide, wooden sidewalk. "Good
evening, and permit me to say that I am surprised to see you here."
"At the French Theatre? Where else should I be?" Madeleine recovered her poise at once.
"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Sherman. Why should you be surprised?"
He answered indirectly as he glanced at his pocket watch. "The curtain will rise in five
minutes. You will have to join your company at once."
"Then I will have to hurry," said Madelaine, starting along the boardwalk in the direction
of the French Theatre. "But there is no one I am joining, Mr. Sherman. And no one is joining me.
I am a Frenchwoman here for the pleasure of hearing her own language spoken, not to indulge in
the entertainment of society"
"Surely you do not go to the theatre unescorted?" He gazed at her in dismay. "No, no;
Madame, you must not."
"But why?" she asked reasonably. "I have attended the theatre alone in London." As soon
as she said it, she realized she had slipped; it was rare for her to make such an error.
"Never tell me you went alone to the theatre as a child," he countered. "Not even French
parents are so indulgent."
"Not as a child, no," she allowed, irritated that her tongue should have got her into such a
pass with Sherman, of all people. He was too acute for her to forget herself around him.
He stopped walking, and looked down at her, cocking his head; the lamplight made his
red hair glow like hot coals. "As a gentleman, I should never ask a lady this question, but I fear I
must"
She returned his look. "What question is that? I have told you the truth, Mr. Sherman."
"Of that I have no doubt." He answered so directly that she was startled. "I can perceive
the truth of you as if it grew on stalks. No, the question I ought not ask is: How old are you?"
Before she could answer, he added, "Because I have received an accounting of your money in the
Saint Louis office of Lucas and Turner, and with a portrait and a description to verify your
identity. It would seem that you have not altered in any particular in the last decade. You
appeared to be about twenty when you first went there, and you appear to be about twenty now."
Very carefully she said, "If I told you when I was born, you would not believe me."
He studied her eyes and was satisfied, "That, too, was the truth." He again looked at his
pocket watch. "We are going to miss the curtain."
"Does this mean you are escorting me?" asked Madelaine, unable to resist smiling at him.
"Perforce," answered Sherman, his eyes creasing at the corners.
"But what of the gossip you have warned me about? And your wife is still with her
parents." Madelaine noticed that the theatregoers had all but disappeared from the street. She
glanced at Sherman. "Are you really set on seeing Racine?"
His face did not change, but his voice softened. "No."
"Nor am I," said Madelaine, who had seen Phaedre more than twenty times in the last
sixty years. "Surely there is somewhere we can go that will not cause tongues to wag?"
Most of those going to the theatre were in their place. The few who remained on the street
hurried to reach their seats before the curtain went up; they paid no attention to Madelaine and
Sherman.
He coughed once. "There are rooms at the casinos, private rooms. Men dine there, in
private. Sometimes these rooms are used for assignations."
"Would that bother you?" asked Madelaine. "Going to such a place?"
"It should bother you," said Sherman sternly. Then he made up his mind. He took her by