The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(48)

“I was so scared,” she admitted. “And Garrick insisted I not look upon the dead, although I did peek. Everyone seems to think Garrick’s uncle may be responsible.”

Sara sighed. “He certainly may be. A horrid man.”

“You know him?” Though she was unable to hide the surprise in her voice, Emma somehow refrained from asking more questions. There was so much she wanted to ask about Garrick—his family, his earldom, and Sara’s friendship with him—but she didn’t dare.

“I’ve never met the man, but I overheard my father and Garrick’s father having a conversation about him once. They didn’t speak highly of the man, and his attempts to undermine the natural succession of the earldom doesn’t speak highly of his character.” She sighed. “It matters not that Garrick is English. The title is his mother’s by right. Why his uncle can’t accept that fact . . . well . . . I suppose ’tis not so unusual.”

She knew what Sara was thinking. Her dear sister-in-law had almost been harmed by a cousin intent on murdering her for the sake of her title and land. Thank goodness Geoffrey had been there to protect her.

“But I do know his mother,” Sara said.

“What is she like?” Emma asked, too quickly.

“Fierce,” Sara said, thankfully not appearing to notice Emma’s eager response. “Determined. The only man along the border meaner than the Baron of Inverglen is the Earl of Magnus, the man she sought out for an alliance. His reputation is known well, even here.”

“It is?”

“Aye. The relative peace we’ve experienced along the border these last years has lulled everyone into a state of unpreparedness that worries me at times. But when the border was less stable, if there was one man in the North all wanted as a friend and feared as a foe, it was Magnus.”

Garrick’s future father-in-law. Or the man who would have been his father-in-law. What would such a man do if his only daughter was jilted? Would he truly allow Garrick out of the marriage contract? Or would it mean war?

Oh dear.

“Enough talk of overeager men and their insecurities. Tell me, more importantly, about these rumors I’ve heard about you and a certain man who’s taken a liking to you.”

Emma’s stomach flipped. “Sara, I can—”

“I’ve not met Graeme de Sowlis, but I’ve heard much about him from Catrina.”

Graeme?

Emma felt so flummoxed she almost gave herself away.

“Well?”

She shook her head, unsure of how to respond.

“Do you fancy the man?”

“I . . . I’m not sure.”

Sara appeared to think on that.

“Well, then perhaps we should invite him to Kenshire to get to know him a bit more. What do you say?”

Invite Graeme to Kenshire?

“Uh—”

“Think on it.” Sara jumped to her feet. “Do you smell that? Cook has managed to find cinnamon.” She took in a deep breath. “I do love that woman.”

“Aye,” Emma agreed as Sara walked away, presumably to find the source of the smell.

Graeme. Magnus.

This meeting at Clave couldn’t come soon enough. Emma needed to speak with Garrick. She required answers that only he could give her.





18





Geoffrey, look!”

As they made their way across the cobbled pathway toward Clave Castle, Emma continued to point out evidence of the sea water that had swept through the area just a short time earlier. She reached down to give Nella a bit of encouragement.

“Seaweed. So very fascinating.” He grinned down at her from his taller steed.

“Mock all you like, brother. But have you ever seen anything like it?”

Despite his casual tone, Geoffrey looked around them with an expression so similar to her twin’s that Emma couldn’t resist smiling. She knew what it meant without asking—Geoffrey was impressed by what he saw.

“You look so much like Neill right now.”

They’d reached the shoreline, or where the shoreline would soon appear, and began to climb up toward the gatehouse.

“Is that right?”

“Aye. Or at least you look like the carefree boy Neill was, and less like the big brother who fought so hard to keep our family safe.”

“That is all I’ve ever wanted to do, Em.”

Despite his occasional high-handedness, Geoffrey really did care about keeping her from harm’s way. If he was a mite overprotective since their parents’ death, she could hardly blame him.

And her twin was no longer the sweet boy she remembered. His reputation continued to grow at the tournaments she could never attend.

“I miss him,” she said, knowing there was naught Geoffrey could do about it.

“As do I,” he said. “But he promised to visit this summer.”

Emma hadn’t seen him since his accolade, and now that he was officially a knight, she feared he was falling prey to the “tourney call,” as Geoffrey called it. But he was always quick to remind her that he and Bryce had both done it and lived to tell the tale. Seeking validation and glory from one tourney to the next, each win sweeter than the last. But she remembered the wounds they’d suffered, the scares they’d given her mother and then, after Bristol was taken, their aunt, every time they left to compete.