The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(12)

“He trusts no one to accompany her there, save himself,” Sara continued. “But if you are passing through . . . Of course, Emma could find no safer escort than yourself, Lord Clave.”

She’d used his title intentionally. For there was no way Geoffrey could argue Emma would not be safe in the company of an earl, let alone an old friend of Sara’s, and his retinue.

Emma finally gave in to temptation and glanced at Garrick. What would he say? What could he say? Sara had left him little choice.

His face, as impassive as ever, gave no indication of his thoughts. Instead, he raised his goblet for a third time, inclined his head just slightly, and said, “I would be honored to escort Lady Emma to Dunmure, my lady.”

Emma whipped her head back to Sara and Geoffrey. Her sister-in-law beamed. Her brother scowled. She didn’t know who she felt more inclined to agree with. But it didn’t really matter. Sara had asked. He’d accepted. She’d appear a fool to shy away from the arrangement after her weeks of begging and cajoling her brother.

And then, as if Sara could hear her thoughts, she said, “Wonderful. Then ’tis settled.”

Emma raised her own goblet this time. “To Scotland.” She downed its contents in one great big gulp.





6





Garrick, mounted and waiting for Lady Emma to join them, tried to still his horse. He and Bayard had been together for long enough that Bayard could sense his moods, and there was no doubt that he was ill at ease—all the more so after his conversation with Sir Geoffrey earlier that morning.

“My wife has high praise for you, Clave.”

Geoffrey had pulled him aside in front of Kenshire’s main keep as the party began to assemble. The blustery January wind promised to make their second day of travel a cold one.

“As do I for Lady Sara,” he said. “But you don’t know me. And therefore don’t trust me.”

Garrick was never one for subtleties, a trait that had gotten him into trouble more than once.

It seemed he had that in common with Sir Geoffrey.

“I don’t like it,” the man immediately replied.

They both knew what “it” was, and Garrick did not blame the man. Whether or not Geoffrey sensed his attraction to Emma hardly mattered. He was escorting an unmarried woman, a most beautiful unmarried woman by any man’s standards, for three, perhaps four, days. Even if Sara and her husband had not heard about his reputation with the ladies, the earl would do well to be cautious.

But Garrick did not bed virgins, and Geoffrey’s sister certainly would not be the first, although he doubted the man would appreciate hearing as much. There was, however, something he might say to comfort him.

“I travel to Scotland to become a husband.”

Those words, spoken aloud in a definitive manner, took all of the bluster from Sir Geoffrey’s speech. Though it apparently did not warrant any gentler treatment, for the affable man he’d met the evening before seemed to have disappeared overnight.

“You didn’t mention it last eve,” Geoffrey said.

There was no denying the truth. He tried not to think on the arrangement, much less make his unwanted future wife a topic of conversation.

“Nevertheless . . .” Garrick had stared down Saracen soldiers who’d possessed less angst than this man.

“Very good,” Geoffrey finally said, reaching his hand out in front of him.

Garrick took it, knowing the silent pact they made and happily agreeing to it. Escorting Lady Emma was a favor he owed Sara, and he would ensure the lady arrived safely at Dunmure. Unharmed, untouched. No matter how much it killed him.

He shook Geoffrey’s hand, their eyes locking one final time in understanding.

“You’ll stay at The Wild Boar?”

Garrick nodded. “I’d previously planned on Kenston House as well—”

“Emma will not—”

“But will not stay there with your sister in attendance. It is obviously not appropriate for a lady.”

“So the abbey, then?” Geoffrey asked.

“Aye and, if necessary, on Clan Scott land.”

Although Geoffrey didn’t appear pleased by this piece of news, neither did he object to the possibility.

Garrick pushed the conversation from his mind. His men grew impatient, but when Emma arrived a few minutes later, all turned to look at her.

Lady Emma was a difficult woman not to notice.

“I will,” she was saying to Lady Sara as she planted a kiss on each of her sister-in-law’s cheeks. “It will be but a few weeks.”

She turned then and glanced at him. The preparations, his men . . . everything ceased but the simple smile of a lady whom he’d sworn to protect. She mounted another horse, Nella not being well enough for the journey, with the help of a groom, as did the maidservant who’d be accompanying her on the journey. The girl was a young chaperone, but a chaperone nonetheless. Part of him was grateful she’d have one.

When Sara approached him, Garrick shook himself from his reverie and dismounted.

“That was quite unnecessary,” she said, her tone as regal as one would expect of a countess.

He lifted her gloved hand to his own, his lips connecting briefly with the cold leather. “As you will, my lady.”

He turned from her, but Sara stayed him with a gentle touch to his shoulder.