Free Catherine Coulter by The Valcourt Heiress

her tongue. “Wasn’t Hobbs going to see him in London?”
    “Aye. I wonder why he comes here?”
    Merry started to take a step forward, then realized it was the very last thing she should do. She was nothing, no one. When the soldiers parted, her jaw dropped. She saw at least a dozen pack mules laden with corded bundles. Everyone was gathering in the inner bailey, clustering around her, talking, pointing toward those mules, so excited they were very nearly bouncing on their feet. She heard Miggins break into a cheer, and soon everyone joined her. As their cheers rang through the inner bailey, several of the soldiers’ horses moved restlessly, and Merry saw the soldiers looking at each other as they quieted their mounts, then at the ragged lot of people cheering them. One soldier, ugly as a tree stump, waved a fist in victory and laughed. The cheering grew louder.
    Garron waited until his people quieted, then took Robert Burnell’s hand in his. “I am delighted to see you, sir. One of my men was leaving this morning to go to you in London. About this,” he said, and waved around him. “As you can see, we are in a very bad way here. But what brings you here? Dare I inquire about those heavily laden mules?”
    Burnell, who would rather have ridden a pack mule than the huge destrier the king deemed to be worthy of him, beamed. “Our king sends you bounty.” He waved his ink-stained fingers toward the long line of mules. “Two days after you left, several soldiers from Wareham arrived to tell us what happened here. Our dear king knew you would be in sore need, and he acted quickly. Mayhap it was our beautiful queen who acted more quickly, but no matter, all the mules were packed in haste. We made excellent time.”
    “You said my brother’s soldiers came?”
    “Not your brother’s soldiers since he is dead.” Burnell looked about him at the devastation. “Your soldiers.” He sniffed the air, studied the huddled people, then pulled the scarf from his head and wrapped it around his neck. “They did not know the name of the man who attacked Wareham, just called him the Black Demon, of all things. They said those who did not manage to escape were slain, and all was destroyed. I see they did not exaggerate. We brought the two soldiers back with us, though they are in a bad way. You may question them yourself. They also told of torture and the search for Lord Arthur’s silver coins, coins this Black Demon said your brother had stolen from him.”
    Garron looked at the two men, who seemed exhausted to their filthy boots, then to the mules and back again to Burnell, who was rubbing his buttocks. He saw Merry standing in the middle of his people, Gilpin at her side. “Merry, come here and meet the Chancellor of England and our king’s secretary, Robert Burnell.”
    Garron hadn’t thought about it, just opened his mouth and the words had fallen out. He watched her walk gracefully to Burnell, give him a smile and sink into a deep, very graceful curtsey. She was wearing a dark blue wool gown, a blue ribbon in her braids. He did not realize the gown was two decades out of fashion. Merry said, “Sir, it is an honor.”
    Burnell stared at the lovely girl with her too-short gown that his brave mother could have worn, and thick fiery red hair braided up atop her head, hair his mother would have called a curse from Satan, threaded through with a blue ribbon that matched her eyes. She looked familiar. Aye, this girl reminded him of someone, and this someone, he realized, heart speeding up a bit, had something about her that alarmed him. Was it her red hair? He simply couldn’t remember. Alarmed him , the king’s secretary, the king’s right and left hand and mayhap on occasion all his digits as well? No, that couldn’t be right. Who was she?
    Burnell arched a thin dark eyebrow. “I had not realized you had wedded, my lord. The king said nothing of it to me. Indeed, how could you have found both the lady and the time in