"MacAllister - 04 - Midsummer's Knight" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacGregor Kinley)

A tall, slender blonde shrieked, "Stryder! Take my favor."
"I love you, Lord Stryder!"
"Move aside, you fat cow." another woman shouted, "I can't see him."
"Lord Stryder touched me!"
The screams of the women were deafening as they elbowed and shoved one another
in an effort to reach the poor man in their center. Stryder was trying
desperately to extract himself, but the more he tried to flee, the more the
ladies held him fast.
Simon burst out laughing at the sight of one of the most powerful men in
Christendom being captured and jostled about by mere women. It wasn't often
anyone saw uncertainty from Stryder of Blackmoor.
And Simon had to admit he enjoyed seeing his friend at a loss for once. It was
refreshing to know that Stryder really was human and not the soulless demon of
Blackmoor legend.
"Stryder?" Simon called, raising his voice to make sure it carried over the
women's. "The leech gave me the cream you requested. He said your rash should
clear up soon, but in the meantime, 'tis highly contagious."
Silence descended on the crowd almost instantly.
"What did he say?" one of the women asked.
"Rash," another repeated.
"I've no wish for another rash," another chimed in, stepping back.
"Just how contagious is it?" Stryder asked, his blue eyes dancing with merry
mischief as he joined the game.
Simon kept his face serious, his tone dire. "Extremely. The leech says you
should be quarantined before you spread it about the castle and make everyone
ill from it. He said it could cause you to go blind if you're not careful."
One woman shrieked and jumped away while the crowd as a whole pulled back only
slightly from Stryder. Some of the more intelligent women looked skeptically at
Simon.
"What sort of rash is this?" a short, dark-haired woman asked. "I've never heard
of such and I see no rash on Lord Stryder."
Simon dropped his gaze to the area just below the man's belt. "That's because it
resides in a most private place." He clucked his tongue at his friend. "Next
time I tell you to refrain from houses of ill repute, you'll be listening to me,
won't you?"
The women made various noises of distress and ran for cover.
Stryder eyed him, his face a mixture of mirth and murder. "I'm not sure if I
should thank you for that, or beat you."
Simon offered him a lopsided grin. "Would you rather I left you to them?"
Stryder rubbed the back of his neck and frowned as he saw the blood on his hand
where one of the women had scratched him. "Nay, I suppose not, but I wish you
could have thought of a better tale."
"Very well, then, next time I shall tell them you are betrothed."
Stryder laughed openly at that. "Now there's an event that shall never happen.
The earth as we know it will perish long before the earl of Blackmoor ever takes
a bride."
"Never say never, my friend," Simon warned. "Far more stubborn men than you have
proclaimed that and fallen to Cupid's bow."
"Mayhap, but I'm not like other men."
And neither was Simon, but then the two of them had a different callingЧone that