"Ardath Mayhar - The Clarrington Heritage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mayhar Ardath)

seemed ... different. Dangerous.
Marise closed her eyes and leaned against the door. She could almost
smell the lemon polish that had scented the entry, feel the cool but stuffy
atmosphere that had greeted her, hear the echo of Ben's voice as he called,
trying to rouse at least one of his kin.
She'd smiled up at him. "Don't look so grim! We gave them too little
time, and it's possible the telegram never got here. Then again, they may have
been out of town."
His arm had been hard beneath her calming hand. "People do like to
acquire new in-laws gradually and in slow stages. This is a fait accompli,
done before they have time to react."
The tight lines of his face relaxed a bit. The crinkles returned to the
corners of his black eyes. "You may be right. You always have been, so far,
and I'm alive to prove it. If I have you, I can do without anyone else, if I
have to. Come here, Doll, and look into my magic mirror."
"Magic?" she asked, looking around.
He led her over the velvety carpet toward a towering hall tree, which
was hung with an array of generations of outdated hats and umbrellas. It had a
chair seat and a drawer beneath that for miscellany. A long mirror was set in
its back.
 This was evidently very old, for the silvering had faded in fine lines
and whorls. Her reflection seemed misty and undefined as she leaned to peer
into the glass, her face that of a stranger in the alien mirror.
"Why it is magic!" she said, laughing with delight.
Her face stared out as if from a place of crystalline ferns and
unlikely flowers. The softening effect caused the sharp angles of her face,
her fragile blond looks to become mystical and lyrical, instead of fragile and
brittle.
"It makes me look almost pretty!"
Ben turned her to face him, hands on her shoulders. "Doll, you are
beautiful to me. I don't quite know how to explain this without making my
people seem cold and uncaring. Really, they're not, but the fact remains that
you're the first person in my life to make me feel warm inside. Loved.
"Besides, you kept me alive, brought me back from the edge of death
when everyone else gave up on me. How could I possibly get along without you?
You're the most nearly perfect thing I've ever found, so don't let me hear you
say you're not pretty!"
He pushed her down gently onto the velvet seat of the hall tree. "Now
wait here while I run up to see where they've put us ... if they got my
message and put us anyplace at all.
"If they haven't, I'll choose for myself. My old room isn't what I want
to take my bride into for our honeymoon. I used to stuff birds and collect
rocks, and anything more un-bridal than that room you can't imagine." He
smiled and hung his coat and hat over the newel post. Then he bounded upward,
two steps at a time.
She stared after him, feeling somewhat anxious. He seemed quite well
now, but it was such a short time since his illness. He'd seemed fine for
weeks now, but after something that even the best doctors hadn't been able to
diagnose, she felt it would be wise for him to take things easy for a long
time.