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

opened outward to show another servant like the first, properly dressed but hardly properly-sized.

"This gentleman is here in search of a particular lady," the first servant said to the second, his tone
entirely uninflected. "He will, of course, need to speak to the mistress."

"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

10

Sharon Green

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 so ...

"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?" " тАФ

"Of course I will," came one of the sweetest, softest voices Timper had ever heard, immediately making
him wish he might see the face thai 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

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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 duuib. 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.