Bride for a Knight by Margaret Moore

Author:Margaret Moore
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Sales Corp
Published: 2014-02-25T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Roland watched Gerrard’s supposed friends stumble into the solar the next morning, all obviously the worse for a night’s carousing.

“Here y’are, m’lord,” the fair-haired young soldier who’d been sent to find them said. “They were just where you’d thought.”

“And my brother?”

“Not there, m’lord,” Hedley replied, his voice betraying nothing. The man was young, but could keep his own counsel, which was why Roland had chosen him for that task.

“Thank you. You can go.”

Hedley nodded and marched away, leaving Roland alone with Gerrard’s supposed friends.

“Sit down,” Roland said to the bleary-eyed Walter, the son of a well-to-do merchant from York. The other two, James and Frederick, had poorer beginnings, but might have made something of themselves had they not run afoul of Walter and, yes, Gerrard, too—rich young men with too much time on their hands and chips on their shoulders.

James and Frederick slumped into two of the chairs. Walter stayed on his feet, although he swayed slightly and squinted in the early morning sunlight.

“Do you know where Gerrard is, Walter?” Roland asked.

“I’m not his keeper,” the young man muttered, tugging his disheveled tunic into place and running a hand through his greasy, light brown hair. “If you want him, what are we doing here?”

Roland lowered himself into his father’s chair. It had taken him some time to use it, even if the chair itself didn’t have anything to do with his father’s behavior. Three bags of silver coins were before him on the table. “I want to make you an offer.”

He shoved one of the bags of coins toward Walter. “There are twenty marks of silver in each purse, one for each of you. You are welcome to them, on one condition—that you leave Dunborough at once and never return.”

James and Frederick sat up a little straighter and eyed the purses, then one another, while Walter’s lips twisted with a skeptical scowl. “Twenty marks—just like that?”

“Just like that,” Roland confirmed, “provided you leave Dunborough and don’t come back.”

“There has to be more to it than that,” Walter muttered even as James and Frederick were reaching for the purses.

“No, there isn’t. I want you gone from here, and I’m willing to pay.”

“And Gerrard? Are you paying him to leave, too?”

“No. Gerrard can stay.”

By now, James and Frederick had their coins in their hands. Apparently the weight of silver in their palms was enough to awaken them, in more ways than one. “Come on,” James said, rising with an alacrity he had not displayed even before today. “Let’s take it and go before he changes his mind.”

“Come, Walter,” Frederick said, likewise getting to his feet. “Gerrard can find us after, if he’s a mind to.”

Roland realized Frederick was, unfortunately, right, but it was more likely Gerrard would stay as long as he still believed Dunborough should be his.

Roland started to reach for Walter’s purse. “If you don’t want it, then—”

Walter snatched it up. “Yes, I do—and it’s less than I deserve for acting as nursemaid to your brother.”

“If you were truly acting in that capacity,” Roland grimly replied, “you would know where he is.

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