"Christopher Stasheff - Warlocks Heirs 01 - M'Lady Witch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stasheff Christopher)

glassware. Her face, too, was smudged with touches of extract, bits of charcoal, and smudges of soot from tending the burners. The solution in the
alembic had just begun to boil up into the cooling tube when ...


...the steward stepped through the door and announced, very nervously, "Milady, Prince Alain has come to call on you. He awaits you in the solar."


"Blast!" Cordelia cried, instantly furious. "How dare he come unannounced! How durst he enter just as my brew has come to the boil!"


The steward stood mute, stretching out his hands in bewilderment.


"Well, there's no help for it!" Cordelia snapped, gaze going back to the cooling tube. Drops of distillate had begun to drip into a beaker. "Tell him I
will come directly." The steward bowed and left, relieved.


She would come as soon as the retort was empty and the beaker full, Cordelia decided-two hours' preparation would not be thrown away on a man's
oafish whim! As to appearances, well, he would just have to take her as she was.


Still, she patted her hair, wishing she had time to arrange it properly-not to mention donning a pretty gown and washing her hands and face.


Actually, she had very little cause for concern. Cordelia had grown into a very beautiful woman, though she gave it very little thought. There was so
much to do-peasants with illnesses, children who must be taught, women who must be aided in their daily burdens. Now and then, she might snatch
a few minutes to think about a new dress, or even steal an hour to work at making one. There were even odd moments when she would experiment


file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Warlock's%20Heirs%2002%20-%20M'Lady%20Witch.htm (4 of 136) [10/15/2004 1:11:36 PM]
 M'Lady Witch

with a new hairstyle, though those tended to be very, very early in the morning, and only on Sundays.


Makeup? She never thought of it-and never thought it would do her much good, either.


She was half right. Her complexion was flawless, her cheeks rosy, her lips so red that no paint could improve upon them. Her features were those of
the classic beauty, and the curves of her body were generous and perfectly proportioned. Her legs were long, her posture straight, almost regal.


Of course, these last were almost always hidden under a work-dress of strong, serviceable fabric. There was, after all, so very much to do.


Even the rough cloth could not hide her loveliness, though-from anyone but herself. Cordelia, of course, did not know she was a beauty.


"How dare he?" she fumed to herself, watching the last of the solution boil out of the retort. "What the devil could send him here at such a bad
time?"