Suzanne Robinson Read Online Free PDF Page B

up and grabbed some of the books as they threatened to spill to the floor.
    “Thanks.” Courtland was out of breath. He dropped into the wing-back chair in front of the desk and set his load of heavy tomes on his lap. “I’m glad I found you.”
    “You’re not dressed,” Valin said, placing the volumes he had rescued on the floor.
    “No, I’m not,” Courtland replied as he rummaged through a folder of papers on top of the books.
    “Courtland.”
    “I know I put it in here.”
    “Courtland.”
    “I distinctly remember putting it in here, because I knew you’d want to see it.”
    “Courtland!”
    His brother looked up, startled. “What?”
    “You’re not dressed.”
    “For what?”
    “The ball,” Valin said, knowing what question would be next.
    “What ball?”
    “The one Aunt is giving tonight that you promised to attend.”
    “Did I? I don’t remember. Who cares about a ball, when I could have this!” With a flourish Courtland produced a piece of paper.
    Valin took it, glanced at it, and raised his brows. “Just explain, Courtland.”
    “This will explain.” Courtland set his books and papers aside, retrieved another sheet, and showed it to Valin. “This is a description of a chest containing dozens and dozens of rolls of arms. I found it in an old shop off the Strand.”
    “Yes,” Valin said politely.
    Courtland gave him a look of exasperation. “I examined them yesterday.” Courtland’s voice became hushed with awe. “They’re all from one visitation of a herald in the sixteenth century under Henry VII, I think. This is only a partial list of what’s in the chest—the roll of arms of the lord of the manor of Long Melford Hall in Suffolk, the Carlisle Roll, tournament rolls, grants of arms, illustrations of achievements.”
    “I see,” Valin said. He didn’t really, but there was no one else in the family who cared about Courtland’s medieval studies.
    Bending over, Courtland dropped the paper he was holding. It sailed past Megan to land under the desk, as he shuffled through his folder and grabbed another sheet.
    “Here it is. Look at this, Valin.” Courtland pointed to an illuminated drawing of coats of arms. “This one is the Moore achievement—Argent between three moorcocks and a chevron sable, and this is Langton—per pale azure and gules overall a bend Or.”
    Valin groaned at last. “You know I’ve forgotten most of those terms of heraldry. Stop talking like Clarenceaux, King of Arms.”
    “Valin, I think this chest holds some of the oldest records of arms ever discovered.” Courtlandlowered his voice in reverence again. “Do you know how rare such a find is? And I didn’t look at the things in the bottom of the chest for fear the shopkeeper would realize how interested I was.”
    “And now you want to buy it,” Valin finished for him.
    Clutching his papers to his chest, Courtland swallowed and nodded.
    “Why don’t you?”
    “The shopkeeper may not know the historical significance of the contents, but he knows they’re old. He wants quite a bit for the lot.”
    Valin glanced at the quotation sheet in his hand again and whistled.
    Courtland swallowed hard. “Too much?”
    Noting his younger brother’s pale complexion and the way his hands crumpled the papers they still held, Valin sighed and shook his head. Among their fellow English aristocrats for whom sport was the measure of a man, Courtland had suffered derision and isolation for his scholarly interests. He’d been beaten up at university more than once.
    “I’ll write you a cheque.”
    Papers flew in all directions as Courtland rushed at him. Valin found himself enveloped in a brief but violent hug.
    “I knew you’d understand!”
    “Of course,” Valin said as he ruffled hisbrother’s hair. “You’ve made a priceless discovery. Just don’t let the shopkeeper know before you’ve got the bill of sale in your hand.”
    Grinning, Courtland began gathering his books and papers. “I