"Sharon Green - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter 01 - Silver Bracers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Sharon)

"Of course," the second agreed, eyeing Timper's continued possession of a cloak but refraining from
commenting on the fact. "If you will be so kind as to follow me, sir?"

Very briefly Timper toyed with the idea of refusing while demanding again to be taken to the lady, and
had the servants been of more usual proportions he might very well have done so. After a moment,
however, it came to him that these were, after all, no more than ignorant servants, and the wisest course
of action might well be allowing them to lead him to their mistress. With that in view he strode through the
door being held open for him voicing no more than a short sound of impatience, waited until the servant
closed the door again and moved ahead, then followed wordlessly after.

Moving through the doorway had put him in a hall both narrower and longer than the entrance hall, but
one whose floor was richly carpeted and whose paneled walls were hung with paintings of obviously
great worth. It seemed to Timper as he walked along that the house was the residence of someone of
substantial affluence, but it wasn't quite as silent as a residence of that sort should be. Somewhere, a
distance off, was what seemed like the sound of roistering voices, but perhaps it wasn't coming from that
house. Perhaps those who lived in the house were forced to endure coarse and common but monied
neighbors, and if that were soтАж

"This way, sir, if you please," the servant interrupted his thoughts, stopping in front of a door to the right
perhaps halfway down the hall. A brief knock and then the servant entered, halting just inside to bow to
someone Timper was unable to make out beyond the man's bulk. "Your pardon, madam, but this
gentleman informs us that he has come in search of a specific lady. Will you see him?"

"Of course I will," came one of the sweetest, softest voices Timper had ever heard, immediately making
him wish he might see the face that went with it. "Do show him in, Rinson."

"Sir," the servant Rinson said, stepping aside with another bow, one Timper was barely aware of. The
servant's movement had brought to view sight of his mistress, and if anything the look of her was superior
to the sound of her voice. The young courier had never imagined that any woman so clearly older than
himself might touch him so quickly and strongly, and if he hadn't been in the midst of a commission he
would likely have stood there frozen dumb. Night-black hair and shining black eyes, skin the color of
faintly blushing cream, full red lips with a devastating smile, all above a richly gowned body of slim
elegance and grace. She was seated behind a delicate desk of lace-like carving, obviously a woman of
responsibility as well as beauty, and he realized he'd stepped well into the room only when he heard the
sound of the door closing somewhere behind him.

"And how may I help you, sir?" the vision asked, smiling at him encouragingly as she straightened in her
chair. "Would you care to describe the sort of lady you seek, or would you prefer looking about before
voicing1 your thoughts? Do you seek someone of your own age, or might it possibly be someone
more-experienced-that you search for? It would be my greatest pleasure to-assist you in any manner
possible."

Her lovely voice had softened and she had leaned forward, her red lips glistening in a way that had
Timper completely convinced regarding her sincerity. His gaze had somehow become riveted to her full,
heaving bosom, a bosom less well-covered than perhaps she realized, and it was with the greatest
difficulty that he brought his eyes to her face again.

"Madam, I-" he began, then paused to bring his voice down from the higher ranges where it had
embarrassingly strayed. "Madam, I thank you for your offer of-assistance, and shall most willingly accept
it," he said on his second attempt, striving to project a maturity of his own. "I am the courier of Duke Rilfe