Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [127]
“Where is everyone?” he asked.
“Katherine was here for lunch,” his aunt replied in a faint voice. “She helped entertain them for a while, but she finally gave out. Walter is playing with his papyrus, your mother is attending a funeral and so is Sethos. I presume your father is still at his cursed dig.”
“An undeserved denunciation,” said Emerson, coming out of the house. “I am shocked to hear you use such language, my dear Evelyn.”
He made sure the door was firmly shut before he turned to meet the assault of the children. Charla was among them; she rappelled herself to the ground as soon as her grandfather appeared. “Have you had a good time?” he inquired.
Evelyn said carefully, “The children have been very active. Very.”
“They do seem a trifle restless,” Emerson conceded, gazing benevolently at the twins, who were clutching at his legs while Evvie tried to pull Charla away. “You have kept them cooped up too long. Young children need to run about and be kept busy.”
Emerson never needed as much rest as a normal person. His blue eyes were unshadowed and his smile broad and cheerful. He seemed to be unaware of the fact that several hostile looks were focused on him.
“Thank you for pointing that out to us, Emerson,” said his sister-in-law, snapping the words out. “No doubt you have a suggestion.”
“Hmmm. What do you say to a nice donkey ride?”
The shouts of approval of the children were not echoed by the adults. This activity would demand as much effort as their earlier exhausting supervision. However, Emerson swept all before him, and the affair was underway when his wife and Sethos returned.
“High time you lent a hand,” said Emerson, addressing both of them. “What took you so long?”
“I stopped by the clinic to see if Nefret needed my assistance,” his wife replied.
Sethos’s gaze had gone to his daughter, who was trotting along beside Evvie, holding on to the child. Evvie did not want to be held on to and said so, at length. Maryam laughed. “Don’t go so fast, then. I’ll not hold you if you let the poor donkey slow down to a walk.” She seemed to be having as much fun as the children, and Sethos’s hard mouth curved slightly as he watched.
The donkeys were the first ones to show signs of disaffection. “Enough,” Emerson declared, lifting Davy off his steed. It had come to a complete standstill and refused to move. “Run along and have a little rest before tea, eh?”
“They won’t, but I intend to,” Lia declared. “David?”
“I promised Maryam a riding lesson,” David said. “She’s been wonderful with Dolly.”
“He’s a dear little boy,” Maryam said, blushing prettily at his praise. “Reading to him is such a pleasure, he listens so intently and asks intelligent questions. I don’t deserve to be rewarded, and you must be tired, and . . .” Her smooth cheeks turned pinker. “To be honest, I’m a little afraid of horses.”
“All the more reason to become accustomed to them,” said her father. “Don’t you agree, Amelia?”
“By all means” was the brisk reply. “Our horses are pefectly gentle and well trained.”
“I’ll give her a lesson, if you’d rather, David,” Ramses said. “You’ve been with the little dears longer than I.”
David grinned and ran his fingers through his disheveled curls. Evvie had used his hair as reins. “I won’t refuse. You’re a better rider than I am, anyhow. She can take Asfur.”
“I haven’t the right clothes,” Maryam demurred.
“Don’t let them bully you into riding if you’d rather not,” Lia said pleasantly. “But you are welcome to borrow one of my outfits. I don’t know what to do about boots, your feet are so tiny. Perhaps Sennia’s would fit you.”
Ramses stopped by the kitchen and then went to the stable, where he found his father and Sethos inspecting the horses. “They are superb creatures,