"Nancy Springer - Isle 03 - The Sable Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

up."

Trevyn smiled, knowing quite well that the manor already buzzed with his presence. "I will invite Meg,"
he decided.
 Rafe cocked a quizzical eye at him, not knowing what to make of the youth's friendship with Meg. The
girl was odd, folk said, talked with animals as if they were human. ... Of course, the Lauerocs spoke with
animals, too, and possessed many stranger powers, and no one spoke ill of them.

"No harm to little Meg, lad," Rafe asked cautiously, "but why? You could have your pick of many a lass
who would do you better credit as a partner."

"But Meg makes me laugh," Trevyn replied.

When he made his request of Meg she answered as



seriously as she had ever spoken to him. "I'd love to, Trev. But I have no dress, and I wouldn't know
how to behave. Ye'd better ask a girl who is better prepared."

"Act like yourself, and you'll please me well enough. And as for the dressтАФ" He frowned. Rafe was
unmarried, so there was no woman to help him. "It's not quite proper, I dare say, but will you not let me
take care of it?"

"What? Make it yerself? Ye'll prick yer fingers and cry. . . ."

"Nay, nay, little jester, I'll pay for it! Humor me?"

"I must ask my parents," Meg said.

They consented, though not without some argument from the goodman. It took the determined
persuasion of both females to get him to agree to the plan. Rafe did not like it much better than Brock.

"Half the country will say you are betrothed!" he sputtered when Trevyn asked him the name of a
dressmaker.

"I dare say worse things could happen."

"Ay! They could say she is your mistress!" ,тАЮ

The dressmaker was a terse, tight-skinned old woman, straight and proud. The manor folk stood in awe
of her, saying she had Gypsy blood. When Meg shyly presented herself in her baggy frock and heavy
peasant boots, the old seamstress looked her up and down without smile or com┬мment.

"What does the Prince like best in you?" she asked. And, although Trevyn had never told her, Meg
knew the answer at once. "I make him laugh," she replied. There was a trace of bitterness in her voice,
and the old woman glanced into her eyes. In an instant the Gypsy saw what Megan had so carefully
hidden from everyone else.

Without a word she got her tape and carefully measured every part of Megan's slender body. Trevyn