Juliana Garnett

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Book: Juliana Garnett Read Online Free PDF
Author: The Baron
candle racks staggered at intervals along the walls. Carved chests squatted on each side of the door; a scarred table bore a flagon of wine and two silver cups. Gaudet stood beside the table, a cup in one hand, resentment simmering in his hot eyes.
    Bone-deep weariness threatened, lapping at the edges of Tré’s endurance. He ignored the sullen gaze and customary niceties:
    “I am aware that you are the cousin of my unfortunate predecessor, Gaudet, so do not waste your time or mine with hostilities. The king saw fit to appoint me sheriff instead of you. It does not have to make us enemies.”
    “No?” An angry smile played on Gaudet’s mouth. “Yet Eustace was not yet deposed from his position when you were appointed. A strange coincidence, perhaps.”
    “So it would seem.” Tré watched him for a moment, the taut set of his jaw, the barely restrained hatred that vibrated the hand holding his wine, and recognized futility in more attempts at civility.
    When the silence stretched ominously, Gaudet stirred. “If you think the Saxons will comply with your edicts, you are much mistaken. They will not do so willingly. My cousin found that out to his sorrow, when he attempted to force them to pay their lawful taxes.”
    “Eustace de Lowdham’s error was in keeping the monies he collected, not in forcing reluctant barons to pay them. Surely blood kinship does not outweigh common sense so much that you do not recognize that.”
    Pale eyes narrowed to thin slits in Gaudet’s fleshy face. He was not a tall man, but projected a sense of height and power due to his brawny frame. His chest swelled with anger as he spat, “A lie! Not only was he put to the trouble of bringing to heel the most defiant barons, but Eustace was beset by outlaws along the way. If you want to hold
your
position, you had best keep in mind that you cannot tender monies to the king that outlaws have stolen from you—”
    “Your concern is touching, but you need not fear for me. I will deal most harshly with the outlaws.”
    “It is said that you harbor a hatred for outlaws—especially Saxon outlaws.”
    “Men who listen to gossip oft find themselves in dire misfortune when they repeat it.”
    It was said softly, with no inflection or particular emphasis, but his point was well taken. Gaudet grew silent.
    Impatient now to conclude the first meeting with the Saxon barons, Tré turned toward the door. “We will discuss your duties later. Attend me tomorrow.”
    It was not an auspicious beginning to his tenure as sheriff. First the barons, now Gaudet. He would not be surprised if he was confronted by a scullery wench before the night ended.
    In the hall, Saxon barons milled about with furtive glances and uneasy courage.
    The lady has more mettle than do they
, Tré mused. It was a trait that altered his first impression of her, for impassioned courage imbued average features with a rare beauty. Integrity made her dangerous. Lady Neville was a lively adversary, worthy of both caution and admiration.
    His gaze roamed the crowded hall, but there was no sign of her by the fire or at the table. Hardly surprising, but definitely annoying.
    “Where did she go, Giles?” His soft tone was deceptive, halting the passing steward in his tracks.
    “I know not, my lord. When I returned with her wine, she was not by the fire. I did not think she would leave without her mantle.”
    “She left the garment behind?”
    “She did, my lord.”
    “Fetch it. Then find Sir Guy and send him to me.”
    Giles departed hastily. Noise overwhelmed the hall, bouncing off high walls and the ceiling. The stench of unwashed bodies was oppressive. A smoky haze permeated clothes and stung the eyes. Tré moved toward the dais. Conversations died; he felt the speculative scrutiny as he maneuvered down the trough between tables.
    They watch, furtive as rats in a granary, and as constant … enemies in all the shadows.
    When he reached the dais he took his place behind the long,
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