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She leaned against the ramparts wall, and grinned up at him. “And just when is Lord Ranulf to arrive for his monthly visit?”

“Possibly tomorrow. He brings Halric with him.”

“He dares to bring that villain here?”

He touched his palm to her cheek. “Forgive him, sweeting. I have known many men whose deeds were much blacker than Halric’s who still hold the king’s trust. Halric wasn’t all that great a villain, Merry.”

“Ha! I will never trust him. He is still free to roam the land, free to kidnap another heiress as it pleases him to do so.”

His warrior. He laughed, kissed her. “I still cannot believe Lord Ranulf plans to wed a knight’s daughter. He hopes to produce an heir to Carronwick. He says he’ll be damned if he will allow Arlette’s curse to wipe out his name.”

“I believe he would like to adopt you, Garron.”

He laughed. “If Ranulf has his way, I will doubtless foster any son his new wife manages to produce.”

“Or it means that if he doesn’t produce an heir, you will eventually have three huge holdings to govern. Can you begin to imagine what the king will expect from you?”

“It does not bear thinking about.”

Garron kissed his wife’s forehead and thought about life’s twists and turns, about fate, and about his brother—Why, Arthur, why did you steal the silver coins? Surely you knew no good could come of it. If, however, Garron thought, Arthur hadn’t stolen the silver, why then Garron’s life would be very different indeed. Merry wouldn’t be standing beside him, one small braid curving along her jaw. He lightly laid his palm over her belly, wondering whether a son or daughter lay under his hand, and all the intense feelings now burrowed deep inside him, enduring feelings he knew would continue until he died, burst out of him in words simple and abiding. “I love you, Merry,” he said.

She laid her hand on top of his. “We love you too, my lord.”

The following day Lord Ranulf, the Earl of Carronwick, arrived at Wareham with his new bride of a sennight, Elise, so filled with enthusiasm Garron could only shake his head and laugh.


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Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical