No
arguments!"
She closed the trap and pulled the rug to, even as the snorting of
hard-driven animals mingled with men's voices and the sounds of
dismounting. Heavy boots rattled the front steps, followed by a
thumping fist upon the door.
"Open," came a heavy voice. "In the name of the King, and on peril of
your life. Open!"
Anne Scott looked quickly about her for any tell-tale signs of
company. There were none, and gratefully she recalled the other
precautions she had taken: both bedrooms had been straightened, the
dishes cleaned and put away. But for Mary's cloak, which she could
pass as her own, the two still wore all the clothing they had brought.
Mastering her fright as best she could, fiercely determined to protect
her young, she went to the door. . .and opened it.
But for all her resolve, her eyes were unprepared for the spectacle
which greeted them. The Lord Henry Purceville himself stood before
her. And beyond his hulking form, she saw the bodies of two men slung
across spare horses, one of which, dressed in ill-fitting clothes,
pale and stained with earth.
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