Read Online Sons of the Wolf by Barbara Michaels - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Michaels
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family history. He nodded.
"That was how it come abaht. How long will tha be visiting, miss, at the Abbey?"
"Until I find a home of my own. Mr. Wolfson is my guardian and the guardian of my cousin."
"Gardeen . . . Tha's living at the Abbey?"
"Why, yes."
An extraordinary spasm crossed his face. If it had been summer, I would have thought some insect had stung him. Then his harsh features subsided into their customary blankness.
"We'd best be going back."
Without waiting for a response he stumped heavily back toward the gateway. I followed, in a state of mingled amusement and annoyance.
He waited for me just inside the gate. I hesitated, expecting him to assist me over the fallen stones that littered the portal, and once again I saw the struggle of some emotion on features which were unaccustomed to demonstrate feeling. After a few heavy breaths, he spoke.
"Ma grandsire was groom to tha grandmother."
"Oh, I see."
Another facial contortion followed, worse than the previous ones. I became convinced that the man was subject to fits and was about to shout for help, when, abruptly, he plunged his hand into his pocket, extracted some object, and thrust it at me. I recoiled a few steps.
"Take un," he said in a hoarse whisper, and with an air of such terrified conspiracy that I glanced involuntarily over my shoulder to see who might be spying on us. There was not another living thing in sight, not even a rabbit or a fly.
"Take un," Dodds repeated, wriggling his fingers.
The object lay on his horny palm, almost lost in the vast plain of it. It was a sprig of dried foliage, carefully folded in a bit of cloth.
I took the sprig. It was surely harmless and, at that instant, I was afraid Dodds was not.
When it was in my grasp, his massive shoulders relaxed. He nodded with dour satisfaction.
"Aye, take un and keep un abaht thee. At night, too. Most particalar at night."
I was naturally agog with curiosity, but he gave me no chance to question him; he lifted me down into the moat and propelled me up the farther bank so quickly I had no breath to use for speech. Then he ambled on ahead of me as fast as he could go.
When we reached the inn, Mr. Wolfson was already in the carriage, impatient to be off. He threw Dodds a coin and tugged at the reins, all in the same moment. Big clumsy man that he is, Dodds moved his hand awkwardly and missed the coin entirely. He was still staring down at the dirt trying to locate it when we drove away.
This is a mercilessly long entry. No wonder my fingers are stiff. Perhaps I will become an authoress, like the lady who published that scandalous book under a man's name. Now that I think of it, she lived in Yorkshire, with her sisters. I must ask Mr. Wolfson about her. The idea is attractive. If I could live by my pen, I could be independent of Ada's charity-or that of some unknown gentleman. I will try writing some little sketches and make my diary entries more novel-like. Not that there will be much to write about; we have no such wild adventures as that poor governess who fell in love with a married man.
Mr. Wolfson said very little on the journey home, except to ask how I had enjoyed my visit to the castle. He seemed amused by my description of Dodds's strange behavior. I meant to show him the little withered plant, but when I looked in the pocket of my skirt I couldn't find it. I suppose I must have dropped it somewhere.
Once a hare bounded across the road in front of the carriage. One of the dogs sat up. He did not bark, but I was rather touched by this sign of-caninity, would one say? Poor creatures, I am getting quite accustomed to them now. I wonder how they exercise those great limbs, shut up all day in the house with their master.
I have yawned four times in the last minute. It is time for bed.
Midnight
The mystery of the dogs' exercise is solved. I have seen them at it.
Tonight was one of my bad nights. I have them, rarely, after a day of unusual fatigue or mental stimulation,
"That was how it come abaht. How long will tha be visiting, miss, at the Abbey?"
"Until I find a home of my own. Mr. Wolfson is my guardian and the guardian of my cousin."
"Gardeen . . . Tha's living at the Abbey?"
"Why, yes."
An extraordinary spasm crossed his face. If it had been summer, I would have thought some insect had stung him. Then his harsh features subsided into their customary blankness.
"We'd best be going back."
Without waiting for a response he stumped heavily back toward the gateway. I followed, in a state of mingled amusement and annoyance.
He waited for me just inside the gate. I hesitated, expecting him to assist me over the fallen stones that littered the portal, and once again I saw the struggle of some emotion on features which were unaccustomed to demonstrate feeling. After a few heavy breaths, he spoke.
"Ma grandsire was groom to tha grandmother."
"Oh, I see."
Another facial contortion followed, worse than the previous ones. I became convinced that the man was subject to fits and was about to shout for help, when, abruptly, he plunged his hand into his pocket, extracted some object, and thrust it at me. I recoiled a few steps.
"Take un," he said in a hoarse whisper, and with an air of such terrified conspiracy that I glanced involuntarily over my shoulder to see who might be spying on us. There was not another living thing in sight, not even a rabbit or a fly.
"Take un," Dodds repeated, wriggling his fingers.
The object lay on his horny palm, almost lost in the vast plain of it. It was a sprig of dried foliage, carefully folded in a bit of cloth.
I took the sprig. It was surely harmless and, at that instant, I was afraid Dodds was not.
When it was in my grasp, his massive shoulders relaxed. He nodded with dour satisfaction.
"Aye, take un and keep un abaht thee. At night, too. Most particalar at night."
I was naturally agog with curiosity, but he gave me no chance to question him; he lifted me down into the moat and propelled me up the farther bank so quickly I had no breath to use for speech. Then he ambled on ahead of me as fast as he could go.
When we reached the inn, Mr. Wolfson was already in the carriage, impatient to be off. He threw Dodds a coin and tugged at the reins, all in the same moment. Big clumsy man that he is, Dodds moved his hand awkwardly and missed the coin entirely. He was still staring down at the dirt trying to locate it when we drove away.
This is a mercilessly long entry. No wonder my fingers are stiff. Perhaps I will become an authoress, like the lady who published that scandalous book under a man's name. Now that I think of it, she lived in Yorkshire, with her sisters. I must ask Mr. Wolfson about her. The idea is attractive. If I could live by my pen, I could be independent of Ada's charity-or that of some unknown gentleman. I will try writing some little sketches and make my diary entries more novel-like. Not that there will be much to write about; we have no such wild adventures as that poor governess who fell in love with a married man.
Mr. Wolfson said very little on the journey home, except to ask how I had enjoyed my visit to the castle. He seemed amused by my description of Dodds's strange behavior. I meant to show him the little withered plant, but when I looked in the pocket of my skirt I couldn't find it. I suppose I must have dropped it somewhere.
Once a hare bounded across the road in front of the carriage. One of the dogs sat up. He did not bark, but I was rather touched by this sign of-caninity, would one say? Poor creatures, I am getting quite accustomed to them now. I wonder how they exercise those great limbs, shut up all day in the house with their master.
I have yawned four times in the last minute. It is time for bed.
Midnight
The mystery of the dogs' exercise is solved. I have seen them at it.
Tonight was one of my bad nights. I have them, rarely, after a day of unusual fatigue or mental stimulation,
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