The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(40)

“Has Neill discussed wanting to come back north? He’s said nothing of the sort to me,” said Emma. She seemed disappointed, hurt even.

“Nay,” Sara was quick to answer. “But he was just knighted this past year. Give him time.”

“And Sara has taken it upon herself to worry for him—” said Geoffrey. His words were said with an indulgent smile.

“Only,” Emma interjected, “because we continue to hear whispers of his name. I don’t believe there’s a single tournament he’s not entered.”

“A worthy activity for a man in training,” Garrick said.

“And nearly as dangerous as battle,” Emma said in a quiet voice. In those few words, she revealed all of her worry about her brother, her twin.

“I can understand your concern, but every match ensures he is more skilled. Protects him for when the broadswords are not blunted.” Garrick looked straight at Geoffrey. “Mayhap Emma could attend the next Tournament of the North to see for herself what Neill is facing?”

Emma stared at him in shock. Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed, and Garrick knew he had overstepped. But he didn’t care. The way she’d spoken about that horse race she’d never seen had stayed with him. Despite what he’d said to her, he wanted her to see that race. Was attending risky? Perhaps. Especially after their attack. But a life without risk was a life not worth living at all.

“We shall see,” Geoffrey said, turning his attention back to his food.

Garrick caught the conspiratorial look between the two women and tried not to smile.

He actually relaxed for a moment until he remembered his earlier conversation with Emma.

I’d speak to you one last time.

What had he been thinking? And what would he possibly say to her that had not already been said? He would find out soon enough.





15





Emma hated the dark. Every time she was forced to face it, she felt the need to run and run and run, as if something terrible would materialize behind her. Somehow the stables didn’t qualify. But these abandoned secret passageways that hadn’t been used since . . . well . . . since she’d used them to smuggle a cat inside the year before.

Little had she known the animal was about to give birth. Her brother had never loved cats, so she’d hidden the mama and babies in her chamber. After trying, and failing, to care for four newborn kittens unnoticed, she’d finally informed Geoffrey of their new addition.

She continued through the passageway, careful step after careful step, until she arrived.

Though Garrick had seemed to regret the hasty invitation moments after issuing it, she could not. She’d been trying to conjure a way to speak to him just once more before he left. Though there was nothing further to say, she could not imagine waking up to find him gone without a final goodbye. Or a “thank you” for all that he had done.

Aye, that was it. She would thank him for escorting her to and from Scotland.

She had not finished knocking when the door opened.

She stepped into the chamber and placed the lantern, its single candle flickering, on a nearby stool. The sparsely furnished room was warm thanks to a fire in the corner.

“I’ve never been in here—”

“You should leave.”

He had that look about him. A warrior’s look. But it no longer frightened her. The tick in his jaw begged to be touched. He wanted it to be touched. It was why he was so desperate for her to leave. She’d come to say goodbye, aye. But she’d also come to feel his arms around her one last time. To be cherished by his lips, kissed like she was the one he would marry.

At some point in these last days, her fears about marrying an earl had begun to melt away.

Emma had not stopped thinking about their encounter in the storeroom even for a moment. Or how he defended her—so fiercely—in battle. And then at dinner, when he’d prodded her brother to take her to the tourney.

Aye, this was a powerful, forceful man. An earl in two countries.

But he was also Garrick.

Her Garrick.

“If you don’t, I will dishonor you, Sara, your brother, my mother—”

“Your mother? Not your intended?”

They stood close enough to touch, but neither reached out. It was as if they both knew the flames, once sparked, would not be doused.

“My mother wants this marriage. Deserves it, after I—” He stopped.

“After you what, Garrick?”

He shook his head.

“What? You can tell me. After you—”

“Killed my father.” Clearly, he was as surprised he’d uttered such words as she was to hear them.

“How could you possibly—”

“It was my idea.”

He swallowed, and Emma didn’t move. She was afraid to do anything that might stop his lips.

“I’d fought alongside Edward before. When he decided to join the king of France in the foreign campaign, I received the summons.” Garrick ran his hand through his hair and made a sound. A painful, strained one utterly unlike anything she’d heard from him before.

“When you received the summons?” she prodded.

“He’d been saying for months he felt useless. Age had begun to claim his body. He’d slowed down, but he was still one of the finest warriors I knew.” He frowned. “I wished to prove it to him.”