Read Online The Leopard Unleashed by Elizabeth Chadwick - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Chadwick
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would run screaming in the opposite direction and warn everyone else.
Adam pulled Lyard round. ‘The hoydens!’ he growled with a mingling of anger and amusement.
‘Surely not … They can’t be!’ Renard’s eyes widened with disbelief. ‘Juditta and Rhosyn?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Adam said ruefully. Taking Lyard out of the company, he cantered the last twenty yards to reach his nearest daughter before she could reach him amidst a press of iron-shod jittery horseflesh.
‘Papa!’ She held out her arms for him to lean and sweep her up on to his saddle. Then, half-choking him, she smacked kisses on his cheek and the corner of his mouth and wriggled herself secure, by which time Rhosyn had arrived at her father’s stirrup and was clamouring to be lifted up. Adam thought it fortunate that Lyard was no longer young and full of fire or they would probably all have been thrown, but he could not bring himself to scold his daughters.
‘Mama’s not here,’ Juditta said. ‘She’s gone to visit Elene up at Woolcot, but she’ll be back before Michaelmas.’
‘Will she?’ Adam felt a small twinge of disappointmentbut did not let it show on his face. It was selfish and Woolcot was but a day’s ride away, not half the world as Jerusalem had been.
‘I don’t like your beard.’
‘Don’t you, puss? It was easier to grow than to shave off while we were travelling. Your Uncle Renard’s got one too.’
‘Uncle Renard?’ Rhosyn, seated behind her father, arms squeezing his waist, looked at the riders in her father’s company. A man was staring at them. His smile was very white against a skin that was almost as brown as her homespun gown, and bracketed by a full, beech-red beard.
‘Don’t you remember? No, I suppose you’d both be too small.’ Adam wheeled the sorrel and trotted him back to the line.
‘Who is the lady?’ whispered Juditta.
‘Her name’s Olwen. She’s travelling with us,’ Adam said, telling the literal truth. Time enough for revelations later. ‘Rhosyn, it’s rude to stare.’
‘But she’s very pretty, Papa. I wish I had hair like that.’
‘But then you wouldn’t be mine. Here Renard, what do you think of these two hussies?’
‘I think they have more than doubled in size.’ Renard laughed and tweaked one of Rhosyn’s black braids.
‘Grandpa does that to me too,’ Rhosyn said, giving him a wary brown stare.
‘Does he now?’
‘You don’t look much like him.’
‘It’s probably the beard,’ he replied and turned to his other niece who was watching Olwen with the kind of fixed fascination found in young children who had yet to learn the artifice of manners. ‘As I remember, you’re Juditta?’
Her eyes came back to him, Adam’s eyes but differentlytinted by the reflection of copper hair, brows and lashes. ‘Yes.’ Her round chin came up. ‘I’m the eldest.’
‘So,’ sniffed Rhosyn from behind the safety of her father’s bulk. ‘You’ll get wrinkles sooner than me!’
Renard grinned. ‘Not for the sake of half an hour,’ he chuckled.
Adam tightened his grip on Juditta as she drew breath to do battle. ‘Is this how you have been taught to behave? Will you shame yourselves and me before family and visitors?’
Both girls fell silent beneath the tone of his voice. ‘Sorry, Papa,’ murmured Juditta, lowering her lashes to purple-stained fingers. Rhosyn laid her cheek against his back and gave him a squeeze.
‘Come,’ Adam said with a rueful look at Renard who was biting back his laughter. ‘We’ll ride on to Ravenstow and let them know Renard’s on his way, shall we?’ He slapped the reins against Lyard’s neck.
Renard shook his head, and chuckled into his beard. ‘They wrap him round their little fingers,’ he said to Olwen.
‘Women are born with their weapons already honed, otherwise they would be defenceless,’ she replied.
Some of the humour left Renard’s expression. ‘You were certainly born with an
Adam pulled Lyard round. ‘The hoydens!’ he growled with a mingling of anger and amusement.
‘Surely not … They can’t be!’ Renard’s eyes widened with disbelief. ‘Juditta and Rhosyn?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Adam said ruefully. Taking Lyard out of the company, he cantered the last twenty yards to reach his nearest daughter before she could reach him amidst a press of iron-shod jittery horseflesh.
‘Papa!’ She held out her arms for him to lean and sweep her up on to his saddle. Then, half-choking him, she smacked kisses on his cheek and the corner of his mouth and wriggled herself secure, by which time Rhosyn had arrived at her father’s stirrup and was clamouring to be lifted up. Adam thought it fortunate that Lyard was no longer young and full of fire or they would probably all have been thrown, but he could not bring himself to scold his daughters.
‘Mama’s not here,’ Juditta said. ‘She’s gone to visit Elene up at Woolcot, but she’ll be back before Michaelmas.’
‘Will she?’ Adam felt a small twinge of disappointmentbut did not let it show on his face. It was selfish and Woolcot was but a day’s ride away, not half the world as Jerusalem had been.
‘I don’t like your beard.’
‘Don’t you, puss? It was easier to grow than to shave off while we were travelling. Your Uncle Renard’s got one too.’
‘Uncle Renard?’ Rhosyn, seated behind her father, arms squeezing his waist, looked at the riders in her father’s company. A man was staring at them. His smile was very white against a skin that was almost as brown as her homespun gown, and bracketed by a full, beech-red beard.
‘Don’t you remember? No, I suppose you’d both be too small.’ Adam wheeled the sorrel and trotted him back to the line.
‘Who is the lady?’ whispered Juditta.
‘Her name’s Olwen. She’s travelling with us,’ Adam said, telling the literal truth. Time enough for revelations later. ‘Rhosyn, it’s rude to stare.’
‘But she’s very pretty, Papa. I wish I had hair like that.’
‘But then you wouldn’t be mine. Here Renard, what do you think of these two hussies?’
‘I think they have more than doubled in size.’ Renard laughed and tweaked one of Rhosyn’s black braids.
‘Grandpa does that to me too,’ Rhosyn said, giving him a wary brown stare.
‘Does he now?’
‘You don’t look much like him.’
‘It’s probably the beard,’ he replied and turned to his other niece who was watching Olwen with the kind of fixed fascination found in young children who had yet to learn the artifice of manners. ‘As I remember, you’re Juditta?’
Her eyes came back to him, Adam’s eyes but differentlytinted by the reflection of copper hair, brows and lashes. ‘Yes.’ Her round chin came up. ‘I’m the eldest.’
‘So,’ sniffed Rhosyn from behind the safety of her father’s bulk. ‘You’ll get wrinkles sooner than me!’
Renard grinned. ‘Not for the sake of half an hour,’ he chuckled.
Adam tightened his grip on Juditta as she drew breath to do battle. ‘Is this how you have been taught to behave? Will you shame yourselves and me before family and visitors?’
Both girls fell silent beneath the tone of his voice. ‘Sorry, Papa,’ murmured Juditta, lowering her lashes to purple-stained fingers. Rhosyn laid her cheek against his back and gave him a squeeze.
‘Come,’ Adam said with a rueful look at Renard who was biting back his laughter. ‘We’ll ride on to Ravenstow and let them know Renard’s on his way, shall we?’ He slapped the reins against Lyard’s neck.
Renard shook his head, and chuckled into his beard. ‘They wrap him round their little fingers,’ he said to Olwen.
‘Women are born with their weapons already honed, otherwise they would be defenceless,’ she replied.
Some of the humour left Renard’s expression. ‘You were certainly born with an
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