Scoundrel of Dunborough Read Online Free PDF

they go at it like rabbits, even in the woods one time where anybody might have seen them.”
    Now it was Celeste’s turn to blush, and blush she did as she envisioned not Roland, but Gerrard, making love with a woman in the woods to assuage their carnal desires. Yet when desire died, what was left?
    Celeste decided she’d asked enough questions. “I’m rather tired, Lizabet, and fear I’ll be very poor company tonight. I’d rather take my meal here. Please convey my regrets to Gerrard.”
    Lizabet bit her lip and her brows contracted.
    “If you’d rather not tell Gerrard—”
    “No, no, it’s no trouble, Sister,” Lizabet replied, although her attitude implied otherwise.
    Celeste gave the nervous maidservant a reassuring smile. “I shall tell him myself. Is he still in the hall?”
    “I think he’s in the outer ward with some of the men, Sister.”
    “Then I shall go to him there.”

Chapter Three
    S tripped to the waist and crouching, Gerrard circled his opponent. Gerrard was fast and clever, while Verdan, likewise wearing only breeches and boots despite the chilly air, was big and slow and sometimes clumsy. Nevertheless, Gerrard knew it would be a mistake to think Verdan was too slow to beat him or too stupid to guess his next move.
    Other soldiers had formed a ring around the wrestlers, shouting encouragement and advice to both. Gerrard could also hear the wagers being made, albeit in quieter tones, especially from those who were betting against him.
    “Now then, Verdan,” he said, not taking his eyes from the man’s bearded face, “it’s time we put an end to this, don’t you think? Concede and we can all go have an ale.”
    “Aye, give up!” one of the younger, thinner soldiers called out, stamping his feet. “I’m getting bloody cold!”
    “Ah, shut yer gob,” another, with darker hair and clean-shaven, retorted. “Verdan can take him. Show him, Verdan!”
    “A southern man beat a Yorkshireman born and bred?” a third demanded, scowling as he crossed thick and powerful arms. “Not likely!”
    “He’s got half a head on Gerrard.”
    “Half a brain, too. Come on, Gerrard, take him down!”
    “Show ’im what a good soldier’s made of, Verdan!”
    “Show ’im what a Yorkshireman’s made of!”
    Gerrard suddenly feinted left, then dived right, grabbing Verdan around the legs and pulling him down. In the next instant, more cheers went up as Gerrard flipped the big man onto his stomach and sat on his back. Verdan flailed about, trying to grab him, but Gerrard got his arms under his opponent’s and his hands clasped behind Verdan’s neck. The bigger man was helpless.
    “I had somethin’ in me eye!” Verdan declared, spitting out bits of grass as he continued to shift from side to side as well as up and down, trying to buck Gerrard off.
    “Come, man, you’ve lost,” Gerrard said. “Admit it and let’s go get some ale. I think we’ve both worked up a mighty thirst. And since you’re no doubt exhausted, I’ll excuse you from guard duty tonight.”
    “Well, since you put it that way...” Verdan stopped moving and let Gerrard climb off him.
    Grinning, Gerrard reached down to help the soldier to his feet. Bets were paid off, some grudgingly, while the two combatants wiped the perspiration from their faces, put on their shirts and tunics, Gerrard’s of wool and Verdan’s of boiled leather. Before the contest, Gerrard had taken a loose bit of thread from the hem of his tunic and tied back his hair to keep it off his face, and he didn’t bother to undo it. “As for the rest of you men, I expect to find all your weapons clean and sharp tomorrow,” he said. “And nobody the worse for drink, myself included,” he added ruefully, earning chuckles from the men, who began to move toward the castle gate.
    He clapped a hand on Verdan’s broad shoulder. “So, your mother still won’t come to Yorkshire?”
    “Not yet. But Arnhelm and me have hope,” Verdan replied, grinning and