Read Online Flowers From The Storm by Laura Kinsale - Free Book Online Page B

He was tense, a hard, hot, shifting wall against her back, his wrist digging into her as he forced her with him as far as the chain reached and hooked his foot around the shaving table.
    He drew it toward them, maneuvering carefully, pausing when it threatened to topple and then nudging it closer again. Cousin Edward began talking in a soothing voice, but Jervaulx ignored it. He took the razor from Maddy’s throat; in one wide swing he sent the copper shaving bowl clattering to the floor with his fist. The chain babbled along the edge of the table as he dragged the razor blade in a straight slash up the center of the varnished top, creating a pale incision.
    He held Maddy tightly. She felt his muscles move and work as he inverted his wrist and crossed the first line with another. When Larkin took a step toward them, the blade came up instantly to her throat.
    She listened to the harsh breath at her ear, felt the heat of it on her skin and the pump of her own heart and his.
    “Let him,” Cousin Edward murmured. “Let him finish.”
    Jervaulx waited, holding the razor just touching her skin. Cousin Edward nodded toward him.
    “You may go on, Master Christian.”
    After a moment, Jervaulx’s fist curled harder on the razor handle, and he placed the end of the blade at the intersection of the cross. With an effort that Maddy felt all through his body, he drew an even, sinuous S-curve along the axis of the line.
    He dropped the razor. It made a loud clump as it hit the table. He put his hand behind her head, forcing her to look down at the carved figure.
    His arm loosened. He let her go. Maddy stood still, gazing at the table.
    She turned. The intensity of expectation in his face, the concentration… he depended on her to understand; he wasn’t looking at anyone else.
    She didn’t know the figure. But she knew it was mathematical.
    “Wait here!” She gripped both of his hands. “Wait!” She turned to Larkin and Cousin Edward. “Don’t punish him; don’t do anything to hurt him!” she exclaimed as she rushed from the room.
    She found her father in the family parlor, being read to by his aide. “Papa!” She ran to him and caught up his hand. “What is this?”
    Guiding his forefinger, she made the cross on the parlor table’s polished surface, and then the sinuous line along it.
    “It’s a periodic function,” her father said.
    Maddy released a breath and grabbed up pen and paper. “What’s the definition?”
    “The infinite series, dost thou mean?”
    “Anything! Anything about it. If it were given to thee, thou wouldst answer back what answer?”
    “Given to me? What—”
    “Papa! I’ll explain, but I must go back as quickly as possible! Just tell me—a periodic function, like Monsieur Fourier’s? How is it written? Beginning with sin x equals?”
    “The sine function series. Or is it the cosine thou’lt have?”
    “And the graphs are different, aren’t they? For this one—” She bit her lip and closed her eyes, conjuring the scars in the varnish. “The curve begins… at the intersection of the axes.”
     
    “That would be the sine function. Sin x equals x , minus x cubed over the factorial of three, plus x to the fifth over the factorial of five, minus x to the seventh over the factorial of seven, and so forth.”
    “Yes. Yes!” Maddy scribbled down the familiar symbols, making them large and clear. “Oh, Papa, thou’lt never imagine! I’ll be back to tell thee!”
    She ran through the Baroque, marbled front hall and up the staircase. The carpeted floors creaked and thudded beneath her feet. When she came to his barren room, she found that her pleas had been ignored.
    Larkin and another attendant had Jervaulx shoved with his face up against the wall, holding him there as they finished tying off the sleeves of a strait-waistcoat.
    As Maddy stopped in the doorway, they let go of him. He didn’t turn or move or struggle, only lowered his head, resting it against the wall, a white