Georgette Heyer Read Free

tripping Thomas, and although he had been too much surprised to take advantage of this triumph he hoped one day to do it again, and to follow it up in a suitable fashion.
    Neither combatant was destined on this occasion to bring the other to the ground; they were wrenched suddenly apart, and found that their eldest brother, Harry, was between them. ‘Fliting again!’ said Harry, in mimicry of Johanna Waring. ‘What’s amiss?’
    Thomas, always jealous of Harry, said, ‘Nothing to do with you!’ and tried to close with John again.
    Harry held him off. He was a slim boy, but surprisingly strong. ‘Stint!’ he ordered. ‘I said, what’s amiss?’
    Thomas might resent Harry’s assumption of authority, but he knew better than to provoke his anger. He said: ‘He stole my mannikin!’
    Harry turned his eyes towards John. ‘I did not!’ John declared, going very red in the face at such a knavish accusation.
    ‘What mannikin? Whose is it?’ demanded Harry.
    ‘Mine!’ shouted Thomas.
    ‘John?’ said Harry, keeping his eyes on him.
    Harry had very bright eyes, the colour of hazel-nuts. When he was pleased they were as soft as a dove’s, but when anything angered him their expression would suddenly change, and then they more nearly resembled the eyes of the lions painted on Bel sire’s shield. The smallest feeling of guilt made it impossible to meet their challenge. John did not attempt the feat. He began to dig a hole in the greensward with the toe of one foot, and kept his gaze lowered. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘ Well… ’
    He was almost felled to the ground by the buffet Harry dealt him. ‘Give it to Thomas!’ Harry commanded.
    He picked it up, and held it out rather blindly, since his eyes were watering. By the time he had blinked away this moisture Harry had gone, and Thomas, the mammet lying disregarded at his feet, was staring in astonishment towards the postern.
    John eyed him, but without much fear of reprisals. Thomas fell out of his rages as quickly as he fell into them, and never bore malice. He turned to look at John, exclaiming, ‘He took my part!’
    John sniffed. ‘You knew he would!’
    ‘No, I never thought it! Why did he?’
    ‘He knew it was your mannikin,’ said John, manfully owning the truth.
    ‘But he likes you best!’ said Thomas.
    This put all thought of the puppet out of John’s head. There was no one whom John loved as he loved Harry, but it had not occurred to him that a brother removed from him by such a span of time as three years could prefer him to Thomas. He said: ‘No, d- does he?’
    ‘No force! I was sure he would give the mammet to you!’
    ‘No,’ said John. ‘It was yours.’
    ‘Well, if I liked anyone best I would take his part!’ declared Thomas.
    ‘Harry wouldn’t.’
    ‘He ought to!’
    ‘Not if it is wrong. Not Harry.’
    ‘Oh, wrong!’ said Thomas. Tired of the discussion, he added: ‘Here, you may have the mammet! I don’t want it!’
    But when they looked for the mannikin it had vanished, because Humfrey, who had deserted his play to watch the fight between his brothers, had borne it off while they argued. By the time it occurred to them that he must have taken it, he had grown tired of a toy too intricate for him to manage, and had abandoned it in a bed of gillyflowers. When Thomas demanded to be shown where he had dropped it, his lip trembled, and he said piteously, ‘ Kate! ’ which was one of the few words he knew.
    ‘I daresay he doesn’t understand,’ observed John.
    ‘Yes, he does,’ said Thomas, giving Humfrey a shake. ‘Show me, Humfrey!’
    Whether or not Humfrey understood what it was that Thomas wanted, he perfectly understood that Thomas was displeased with him, and he broke into lamentation. His cries brought Kate Puncherdown to his rescue, her kirtle caught up in both hands, and her coif askew. She snatched him up, calling him her pig’s eye, her cinnamon, her honey-hive, and scolding Thomas for having hurt him.
    ‘What