The Bold Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) Read Online Free Page B

Hulda rolled her eyes. “’Tis plain on your Scotch face.” She fell silent, eyeing Merry speculatively.
    Taking another swig of ale, Merry patiently waited for her to continue.
    “’Tis easy enough if you have the coin,” Hulda said at last. “But he’ll demand a princely sum. And he’ll just get you in. You’ll have to get yourself out.”
    Merry didn’t hesitate. She didn’t really have much of a choice, and mayhap it was all she needed. Ewan and his men were experienced warriors. Once they were free, it would be difficult to catch them again.
    “Then if you’re still of a mind, I’ll introduce you to my friend for the price of two shillings,” Hulda proposed. “He’ll be in town on the morrow at dawn, but I’ll have those shillings now.”
    Merry didn’t really want to wait that long, but she’d already gone so far down this path, there was no time to choose another. Taking a long drink from her mug, she set it down with a crash. “One now, and t’other then. And dinna think to cross me,” she warned, fishing a coin from her pouch.
    She watched the woman scurry away, wondering if she’d just wasted a shilling, but it was too late to do much else that night. She was exhausted, and tomorrow she’d need her strength and wits about her to see Ewan free.
    Returning to the Laughing Cockerel , she paid more than she pleased for the right to sleep in the stables and, climbing into the loft, settled back into the straw, her saddle for a pillow.
    Tomorrow.
    Tomorrow she’d secure Ewan’s freedom.
    She’d have to buy horses. Ripping the hem of her cloak, she pulled out the last of her coins and, hefting them in her palm, counted them under her breath. She didn’t know how many men Ewan had with him, but she could only spare enough coin to purchase three, maybe four serviceable horses and still have enough left over to bribe the English, if need be. She only prayed that she did have enough.
    Wearily, she sank back into the straw.
    On the morrow, she had to succeed. She refused to think of any other outcome.
    * * *
    To her surprise, she slept well.  It seemed only a moment later when she opened her eyes to find the sun had risen and a new day begun.
    After a hasty breakfast of cold mutton and stale bread, she wove her way through the gathered throngs and past the boats moored on the quay. Her first item of business was to purchase horses with which to make good their escape. She could only find three suitable geldings, and after haggling an acceptable price for all three, she returned to the inn and tethered them at Diabhul’s side.
    Stepping out of the stables, she found Hulda waiting impatiently. “I almost left,” she chided as Merry tossed her the other shilling. “Follow and be quick.”
    Turning on her heel, the woman hurried down the narrow, winding lane and led Merry across the town to a refuse-littered street dotted with boisterous alehouses. And then stopping before a green door, she rapped sharply upon it several times.
    After a moment, the door was opened by a sour-faced matron with jiggling jowls. Her disdainful gaze swept Merry from head to toe.
    “The lad I was speaking of…” Hulda offered in explanation.
    The sour woman simply stood there a moment before heaving her considerable bulk to one side, allowing them to pass. “Robert’s there,” she muttered and pointed.
    Across the small vaulted room, a middle-aged man with a long gray-speckled beard sat scratching his belly as he watched several men at dice.
    Merry waited for the sour woman and Hulda to lead the way, but when neither woman moved, she stepped forward and approached the man herself. Up close, she realized that he was much smaller than he’d first appeared, and the stench about him proved he clearly hadn’t bathed in months.
    “Robert?” she asked, towering over him.
    He didn’t respond.
    Narrowing her eyes, she pressed, “Are ye hard of hearing, man?”
    The dice-playing companions paused their game to look up