elias1991: переводы

→“We do?” Wayne asked.

→“My lord Waxillium,” Steris cut in, voice stern. She did not seem to enjoy small talk. “Perhaps we can dispense with empty prattle. We all know the nature of this meeting.”

→“This?” Lord Harms said, holding up his cane. “Indeed. It’s a family heirloom.”

→“You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable. Ahem. Is that mahogany?”

→They all turned to him.

→“So is Waxillium,” Wayne added.

→“Suitable.”

→“Er. Yes. How’s your health?”

→“Perhaps you should,” Steris replied.

→“Well,” Waxillium said. “Perhaps I should begin by asking after your health.”

→Wayne primly settled himself in a chair directly to Waxillium’s right. They all stared at one another for an extended moment. Wayne yawned.

→“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Waxillium said. He waited until the women were seated beside Lord Harms, then sat on the smaller sofa facing them, and facing the doorway. There was another exit from the room, but he’d discovered that there was a squeaky floorboard leading to it, which was ideal. This way, someone couldn’t sneak up on him. Lawman or lord, he didn’t fancy getting shot in the back.

→“This is my cousin Marasi,” Steris said, nodding to the woman behind her. Marasi was dark haired and large eyed, with bright red lips. She looked down demurely as soon as Waxillium turned to her. “She has spent most of her life in the Outer Estates and is rather timid, so please don’t upset her.”

→She looked him up and down with a critical gaze, and then her eyes flicked toward the duster and hat in the corner. Her lips turned down. Doubtless she assumed they were his.

→“I was so surprised by his appearance,” Waxillium said, “that I did not have an opportunity.” He took Steris’s hand and bowed his head to her as well.

→“My daughter, Steris.” Harms sat. “Lord Ladrian? You didn’t tell your uncle of our arrival?”

→Wayne just shrugged. Then he turned and took Steris’s hand and bowed his head politely. “And who is this lovely creature?”

→“Yes, of course,” Waxillium said, covertly glaring at Wayne. Really? that glare said. We’re doing this?

→“I’ve often thought the very same thing!” Lord Harms said. “I assume we’re given leave to sit, Lord Ladrian?”

→“On the mother’s side!” Wayne said. “Not the Ladrian side, of course. Otherwise I’d be running this place, eh?” He sounded nothing like himself, but that was Wayne’s specialty. He said that three quarters of a disguise was in the accent and voice. “I’ve wanted for a long time to come check up on the lad. He’s had something of a rough and tumble past, you know. He needs a firm hand to make certain he doesn’t return to such unpleasant ways.”