"Factotum" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cornish D M)

MONSIERE TROTTINOTT

"That is the moment when my grandsire earned his honor and his title, and his ever-grateful heirs their elevation," the Monsiere offered smilingly, breaking into Rossamund's craning fixation.

"Aye, sir, at the Battle of the Gates, just when-late in the day-the Turkoman flank was collapsing," Rossamund returned in uninhibited enthusiasm, "just before Haroldus met and slew the Slothog!"

"One and the same!" Trottinott clapped once in delight. "Hark, here is a proper student of matter to show my boys how it is done! I must praise you, Duchess Rose, for your young servant's fine address; how excellent it must be to be served by such learned fellows."

Europe gave a single, slow blink. "Indeed it is, Monsiere… very excellent."

The young factotum blushed as Craumpalin gave him a subtle nudge. Vaguely conscious of his mistress' gaze upon him, Rossamund fixed his attention on his delicate glass of sweet yet sour agrapine.

Settled, they were joined by a handsome woman in a flaring dress of rich satin, grass-hued with thin peach pink stripes, her entrance marked with the comforting swish-swish of her skirts. Trotting dutifully beside this gracious woman came two children, both boys, turned out in neat suits of deep warm blue like their father: one little, the other nearer to Rossamund's own age.

"Allow me to name my wife-Lillette, the Madamine Trottinott…"

The auburn-haired beauty curtsied low with well-practiced ease and a slight creak of stays, her elaborate curls falling about her face and neck. "Gracious lady," she said with great gravity, the doubt in her eyes at this martial peeress discreetly contained.

"And two of my triple joys, Autos…"

The older boy bowed, saying with already breaking voice, "I am delighted, graciousness."

"… and Pathos."

The younger boy grinned. "Hullo, my lady!" he said with a slight rustic burr.

"And hullo to you, small fellow," Europe returned with the perfect model of an amiable smile.

"He loves to spend his days with my moilers," the father offered by way of explanation. "Their older sister, Muse, is boarded at the aplombery in Lo, applying herself to finishing her womanly graces."

Europe sniffed bitterly as if to say exactly what she thought of aplomberies, yet when she spoke, she was civil and smooth. "So tell me more, Monsiere, of this creature that besets you. Have you seen it?"

Trottinott's face fell. "Ah. That I have not, gracious lady, though several of my tenants and servants have. All that is sure is the evidence of their ravages: my kennels empty." He looked nervously to his sons, clearly uneasy about saying too much in front of them. "Vines in ruins, flocks… decimated, their herdsmen hurt and demanding exorbitant incentive to stay to the watch of their folds. It would be best to speak with them. I shall call them out tomorrow. They have had closest dealings with the… troublers… Apart, that is, from the fugelman we sought from Dough Hill to hunt it-but alas, he never returned, precipitating the very writ you have so fitly answered… Ah! But listen to me! It is a long road from the bright city to here." The Monsiere spread his hands before them. "You should take a day to recover yourselves."

"Idle hands find mischief, good sir, and idle minds even more," Europe proclaimed, to the gentleman's clear relief. "We shall begin tomorrow. Now, if you please, direct my factotum to the place most appropriate where he might make my plaudamentum."