The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(11)

“My brother enjoys wine,” she said, trying to make sense of her prattling words.

“As do I.” He proved the truth of his words by reaching for his own goblet.

“Aye, she is sick,” she said, finally remembering to answer his question. “Eddard is not worried because she continues to eat, but she is not acting quite herself.”

“Nella,” he said. “What other symptoms does she have?”

Why did her horse’s name seem like such an intimate thing for him to say?

Oh yes, symptoms.

“She is warm. And was lying down earlier when you . . .”

Sara and Geoffrey did not appear to be paying them any mind, but on the off chance that they were listening, she didn’t want them to know they’d met prior to their introduction outside the hall. So she stopped talking.

Garrick raised his brows and whispered, “So very scandalously gave you my cloak?”

Though he said it in a teasing tone, his words were quiet enough for her ears only, ensuring their rather improper meeting would remain a secret.

“I didn’t think to be there so long,” she answered. “Otherwise I would have brought my own cloak.”

He took another sip, this one much deeper, his eyes on her as his lips covered the rim of the goblet. She swallowed.

“I will check on her after the meal,” he said.

“You will?”

His expression was so neutral, Emma couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. She’d often wondered whether great lords were given some sort of special training to conjure such unreadable expressions. But when she’d asked Sara about it, her sister-in-law had simply laughed.

“I have an affinity for horses,” he said. “An interest in them that placed me too often in the stables growing up, if you listen to my mother tell the tale.”

An affinity for horses.

So many thoughts and feelings bubbled up in Emma at that moment. She’d grown up wanting nothing more than to be with her horses. To ride them. To simply be in their company. Being with Nella gave her more pleasure than being with just about anyone. For some reason, though, Emma kept her thoughts to herself. She didn’t want him to know all of that. Something told her it would only make this, whatever it was, more difficult.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He inclined his head just slightly, properly acknowledging her thanks.

“So, Garrick,” Sara said. “You mentioned passing through Kenshire. Where do you go next?”

Emma concentrated on the pattern of flowers etched into her goblet. She’d never noticed how pretty it was, the stems of the roses entwining—

“To Scotland, my lady.”

“Linkirk?”

“Aye, my mother is there. After she received word of my father’s death in Acre, she thought it a necessary trip.”

“I see.”

“Will there be trouble?” Sara had clearly detected a layer of meaning beneath his words that had eluded Emma.

She chanced a glance at Garrick, wishing immediately she hadn’t. He was looking at her; his eyes, mesmerizing, made it difficult for her to focus. Her eyes darted back to the glass. So these flowers . . .

“I go to ensure there is none.”

“You know Kenshire is behind you. Always.”

Garrick lifted his drink in salute. “As Clave is for Kenshire.”

Emma knew very little about Clave beyond that it was partially in the sea, only accessible by foot during low tide. She could not recall anything else of their southern neighbors, but if the earl was an ally, why had he not assisted Sara in her claim to Kenshire after her father’s death? Dozens of questions crowded her tongue, none of which she could afford to ask lest she reveal her interest in the earl.

“Wait!” Sara exclaimed.

“No, Sara . . .” Geoffrey said next to her, somehow knowing what she was about to say. Emma did not. Her thoughts were still swirling around Clave and Kenshire and her sister-in-law’s early struggle to retain her title.

“Linkirk is not far from Dunmure Tower, is that correct?” Sara asked smartly.

Emma looked from her sister-in-law to her brother, and then to Garrick. Linkirk. Near Dunmure?

“Aye, it lies directly south of Dunmure, my lady.”

“Sara . . .” Geoffrey’s tone was a warning, one she did not heed.

“What wonderful news, Garrick! You see, Emma’s dear friend Clara, Alex Kerr’s wife, is with child.”

Oh no . . .

“And Emma has been desperate to get to her. You see, they’ve grown quite close. But my husband—” She turned to look at Geoffrey. “He does not want to leave the babe.”

If Emma guessed correctly, Sara’s glance was sharp. But likely no sharper than the expression Geoffrey was leveling at her in return.

“Babe?” Garrick asked.

“Sara and Geoffrey have a baby boy,” Emma said, so proud to call herself an aunt. “Hayden.”

Garrick raised his cup again. “Congratulations, my lady. My lord. That is wonderful news indeed.”

They all drank to the young heir’s health, but the wine no longer felt comforting to Emma. For she knew what Sara intended to ask of Garrick. And though she desperately wanted to visit her friend, the thought of being escorted there by the earl was . . . disconcerting. The effect he had on her was completely out of her control.