Gerrard called out as he staggered into the brothel much later that night. “Where are you, Bella?” The brothel-keeper hurried to help him over the threshold. Edric didn’t want Gerrard to fall or rouse the neighbors. Everyone in Dunborough and for miles around knew of his brothel, and most were willing to turn a blind eye as long as he kept a peaceable establishment. At least for now. Edric had his doubts that Sir Roland would let his business continue, although soldiers needed such recreation. There were a few soldiers from the castle there now, and if they were a bit surprised to see Gerrard come staggering in, well, what of it? The man’s money was as good as theirs and he wasn’t married or betrothed, so it was with a smile that the proprietor closed the door and got Gerrard into a chair. The very drunk Gerrard. Edric didn’t need to smell the ale on him to be sure of that. The slurred words, loud voice and glazed eyes were more than enough.
