"Mercedes Lackey and Roberta Gellis - Ill Met by Moonlight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

hair. Her complexion was sallow, her nose an undistinguished button, her lips pale, her teeth yellowed
and crooked.

It was true, however, Denoriel thought, as Ystwyth came alongside of Miralys at the place the farm track
met the main road, that one did not dwell on Lady Alana's face. Her person faded into the background of
her exquisite garments.

Just now, atop the muddy hair was a remarkable hat, perhaps a whisper ahead of the fashion but no
more than a whisper. Lady Alana was never bold. Over her soft gold velvet coif—no woman went
without a coif—was a round cap, a man's cap, of umber velvet with a rolled edge striped in gold. Ear
flaps of brown velvet, so heavily embroidered in gold that it was hard to discern the original shade,
depended from the sides of the cap going around to fit the back of the head to confine her hair. And just
above the ear flap on the right side of the cap, was a jaunty, sleek, red pheasant feather.

Her riding dress was every bit as elegant as the cap. Over a high-necked chemise with a ruffled
collar—the low, bare, square neckline most fashionable in women's gowns would not be suitable for
riding—Lady Alana wore something very like a man's doublet in a warm brown and gold brocade. From
under the doublet flowed a very rich umber velvet skirt embroidered in gold, split from waist to hem fore
and aft for riding as were the several petticoats (Denoriel had not bothered to ask how many) that
supported the skirt. The velvet was covered—to protect it from rain or mud splatters—with a heavily
pleated brown canvas safeguard.

Denoriel's dress, although rich and elegant, could not compare in stylishness with hers. For comfort in
riding, Denoriel wore a long-skirted doublet that came to midthigh of a deep rose velvet embroidered
across the breast and around the neck in silver. The white shirt beneath it showed in small pleats at the
neck and wrists where the full sleeves narrowed into a long, close cuff. Under the doublet were pale gray
slops, also embroidered in silver, but they only showed when the wind blew back the skirt of the doublet.
Long hose, gartered both above and below the knee were covered almost completely by tall boots, slit at
the back and turned down to the knee.

The costume was not as sumptuous as those he had often worn when he visited FitzRoy in company with
George Boleyn, but George was long dead, and Elizabeth was living—at least at present—in less exalted
state than FitzRoy had been. At present the king had a living legitimate son as his heir, and Elizabeth's
position was very uncertain.

They paused at the entrance to the main road to make sure no one was coming along who might wonder
what so elegant a pair had been doing up the farm track. Denoriel looked down at Aleneil and frowned.

"You said Elizabeth rode. Not I hope on one of those lunatic sidesaddles that have become the fashion."

Aleneil shook her head. "Not for serious riding, no, and until now she has been kept too much in the
background to ride in processions."

He raised an eyebrow. "Serious riding? What can you mean? She is no more than eight years old."

Aleneil pursed her lips, and for the first time, looked just a trifle annoyed with him. "Nonetheless, she
rides very well and loves the exercise, although her father has not yet given permission for her to go
hunting."

"Hunting? A girl-child?"