Rage Read Online Free PDF Page A

around his neck and showered warm wet kisses on his face.
    â€˜What does my angel want to do now?’ Shasa asked, without lowering her to earth.
    â€˜I wanna wide,’ Isabella declared, and she was already wearing her new jodhpurs.
    â€˜Then wide we shall,’ Shasa agreed. Whenever Tara accused him of encouraging her lisp, he protested, ‘She’s only a baby.’
    â€˜She’s a calculating little vixen who knows exactly how to twist you around her little finger — and you let her do it.’
    Now he swung her up on to his shoulders, and she sat astride his neck and took a handful of his hair to steady herself while she bounced up and down chanting, ‘I love my daddy.’
    â€˜Come on, everybody,’ Shasa ordered. ‘We are going for a wide before dinner.’
    Sean was too big and grown up to hold hands, but he kept jealously close to Shasa’s right side; Michael was on his left clinging unashamedly to Shasa’s hand, while Garrick trailed five paces behind looking up adoringly at his father.
    â€˜I came first in arithmetic today, Daddy,’ Garrick said softly, but in all the shouting and laughter Shasa didn’t hear him.
    The grooms had the horses saddled up already, for the
evening ride was a family ritual. In the saddle room Shasa slipped off his city shoes and changed them for old well-polished riding boots before he lifted Isabella onto the back of her plump little piebald Shetland. Then he went up into the saddle of his own stallion and took Isabella’s lead rein from the groom.
    â€˜Company, forward – walk, march, trot!’ He gave the cavalry command and pumped his hand over his head, a gesture which always reduced Isabella to squeals of delight, and they clattered out of the stableyard.
    They made the familiar circuit of the estate, stopping to talk with any of the coloured boss-boys they met, and exchanging shouted greetings with the gangs of labourers trudging home from the vineyards. Sean discussed the harvest with his father in adult terms, sitting straight and important in the saddle, until Isabella, feeling left out, intervened and immediately Shasa leaned over to listen deferentially to what she had to tell him.
    The boys ended the ride as always with a mad gallop across the polo fields and up the hill to the stables. Sean, riding like a centaur, was far ahead of the rest of them, Michael was too gentle to use the whip and Garrick bounced awkwardly in the saddle. Despite Shasa’s drilling, his seat was atrocious with toes and elbows sticking out at odd angles.
    â€˜He rides like a sack of potatoes,’ Shasa thought with irritation, following them at the sedate pace set by Isabella’s portly Shetland on the lead rein. Shasa was an international polo player, and he took his middle son’s maladroit seat as a personal affront.
    Tara was in the kitchen overseeing the last-minute details for dinner when they came trooping in. She looked up and greeted Shasa casually.
    â€˜Good day?’ She was wearing those appalling trousers in faded blue denim which Shasa detested. He liked feminine women.

    â€˜Not bad,’ he answered, trying to divest himself of Isabella who was still wrapped around his neck. He dislodged her and handed her over to Nanny.
    â€˜We are twelve for dinner.’ Tara turned her attention back to the Malay chef who was standing by dutifully.
    â€˜Twelve?’ Shasa asked sharply.
    â€˜I invited the Broadhursts at the last moment.’
    â€˜Oh, God,’ Shasa groaned.
    â€˜I wanted some stimulating conversation at the table for a change, not just horses and shooting and business.’
    â€˜Last time she came to dinner your and Molly’s stimulating conversation broke the party up before nine o’clock.’ Shasa glanced at his wristwatch. ‘I’d better think about dressing.’
    â€˜Daddy, will you feed me?’ Isabella called from the children’s dining-room