The Baron's Bounty Read Free Page B

- strolled down the docks of Great Yarmouth. The herring festival was in progress, and they had brought their ships and men to fish in the pristine spots. They would also be able to dry their nets on the shores. It was a privilege granted to them by King Edward I himself, in return for servicing the Crown with ships fifteen days out of the year. Without a royal navy, the king had to depend on his barons and the merchants and fishermen of the ports to transport him across the channel, carry him to battle, or assist him whenever needed.
    “Aye, I don’t quite understand it either.” Nicholas Vaughn, Lord of New Romney squinted his eyes and just shook his head as if he thought Conlin were daft.
    Conlin de Braose, Lord of Sandwich, just stared at his friends with his mouth wide open and his mind blank. He didn’t know how to answer. Why had he agreed to such a horrid idea? It was an impulsive move on his part, on a day when he bickered with his daughter. Though the king had granted him permission to marry whomever he chose, King Edward I had still suggested he marry the daughter of the Scottish laird of Kirkcaldy in Fife, for an alliance with Scotland.
    Feeling his own unruly daughter needed the hand of a strict mother, and wanting to secure the alliance for his port, Conlin had agreed to the suggestion of the marriage in an act of desperation. But that was nearly five months ago! Between his schedule and Lady Catherine’s sudden illnesses, it seemed there was always something putting a wedge between them and keeping them apart. He’d tried months ago to meet his betrothed right there on Scottish soil but she’d never showed, and he’d ended up leaving in aggravation. He had no tolerance for tardiness, and even if there had been a bad storm that night, he didn’t see that as an excuse.
    Perhaps he should have chosen someone more reliable or at least healthier. If only he had known.
    Still, it was a good move to secure alliances with the Scots now that their king was dead. King Alexander III’s successor was the infant Princess Margaret, the Maid of Norway. With only advisors to the crown running the country until the girl grew up, anything could happen. He had to be prepared and provide safety for his men, the people of Sandwich, and also his twelve-year-old daughter, Rose.
    So he’d reluctantly agreed to the betrothal. This decision only seemed to put more distance between him and Rose, as she did not want a new mother. The last three years had been very trying after the death of his wife in childbirth along with their newborn son. It was a common occurrence for women to die in childbirth, and if an infant lived past the first few years, it was considered a blessing from God. He knew this, but it didn’t make things easier. No matter how much his daughter was grieving, he felt the despair twice as much. No man should have to endure the trials he’d been through. Watching five of his own infant children go to their graves, as well as his wife – all over the past ten years was worse than fighting in the front lines of King Edward’s many wars. All he had left was Rose, and he had to see that she was taken care of should anything happen to him.
    But no twelve-year-old girl, no matter how much he loved her, was going to influence his decisions. His choices were not made emotionally, but rather intellectually. He had a good head for business, and this betrothal was really naught more to him than a business deal. Still, he couldn’t say the stories he’d heard of the Shrew of the Scots weren’t making him nervous. Lately, he’d started doubting himself, and this was not a good feeling at all.
    He glanced over to his comrade and good friend, John, who was single and happy about it. Then his attention strayed to his other good friend, Nicholas, who’d just gotten married last year. The fool hadn’t stopped smiling since his wife, Muriel, birthed twins six months ago. He had not only one child, but two - a boy and a