Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [133]
"Avaunt thee, sirrah!" the female voice said mildly. "You'll muss my coiffure."
As Lafayette stretched to get a glimpse of the action from behind the carved claw-and-ball foot of the bed, his sword clanked against the floor. Instantly there was silence.
"Milord Chauncy—didst hear that?"
"Well, I really must be going," the male voice said loudly, with a slight quaver. "As you know, his Highness—the best boss a fellow ever had—gave orders you were to have whatever you wanted, milady—but I'm afraid that if I lingered any longer attending to your whims, it might be susceptible of misinterpretation—"
"Why, of all the nerve!" There was a sharp smack! as of a wrathful feminine hand striking an arrogant male cheek. "As if I invited you here!"
"So . . . if you'll excuse me—"
"Not until you've searched the room! It might be a horrid big bristly rat!"
"Yes, but—"
A dainty foot stamped. "At once, Chauncy, or I'll report that you tried to force your lustful will on me!"
"Who, me, your Ladyship?"
"You heard me!"
"Well . . ." Lafayette saw the boots cross the room, pause before the closet; the door opened and shut. The feet went on to the bathroom, disappeared inside, reemerged. They went to the balcony, stepped out, came back.
"Nothing at all. Probably just your imagination—"
"You heard it too! And you haven't look under the bed!"
Lafayette froze as the feet crossed to the bed, halted two feet from the tip of his nose. The skirt was lifted; a narrow face with fierce, spiked mustachios and a pair of small, beady eyes peered directly into his face.
"Nothing here," the man said and let the skirt drop. Lafayette let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. "Sure, I forgot the cloak," he chided himself.
"That being the case," the male voice continued, "what's my rush?"
"Art related to an octopus on thy father's side?" the Daphne-like voice was inquiring with a suppressed giggle. "Aroint thee, milord, thou'll break the zipper."
"Why, you . . ." Lafayette muttered, and froze as conversation again cut off abruptly.
"Chauncy—there's someone here!" the feminine voice said. "I . . . I sense it!"
"Yes, well, as I was saying, I have my sheet-and-towel inventory to check over, so I really can't linger—"
"Pooh, Chauncy, at this hour? Surely you're not afraid?"
"Me? Afraid?" Chauncy's voice broke on the word. "Of course not, it's just that I've always loved inventories, and this is my chance to steal a march by working on it all night, so—"
"Chauncy—we were going to take a moonlight walk, remember? Just you and me . . ."
"Yes, well—"
"Just wait while I slip into something more comfortable. Now, don't go 'way . . ."
"Hey," Lafayette murmured weakly.
"The acoustics in this room are terrible," Chauncy said nervously. "I would have sworn someone whispered 'hey' just then."
"Silly boy," the other voice replied. There was a soft rustling sound, followed by a sharp intake of masculine breath. The feminine feet reappeared; they paused before the closet; slim, ringed fingers appeared, to pull off one shoe, then the other. The feet went to tiptoe, and a voluminously skirted garment collapsed on the floor. A moment later, a filmy nothing floated down beside the dress.
"Really, milady," Chauncy's voice squeaked, "his Highness . . . but to perdition with his Highness!" The booted feet rushed across the floor, trod on a small, bare foot. There was a sharp yelp, followed by the second sharp smack! of the evening.
"You big, clumsy idiot!" the female voice wailed. "I'd rather stay cooped up here forever than put up with—"
"Oh, so that was your scheme, you slick little minx!" Chauncy cried. "You inveigled me here with promise of goodies to come—planning all the while to dupe me into abetting your escape! Well, this is one time