The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(71)

He’d made his decision that night in Kenshire, in the cold, misty minutes between sleep and awake, with the taste of Emma still on his lips. The feel of her against him, the contentment that came from knowing, or thinking, she lay next to him. In those moments, he’d realized something: the thought of waking fully and not having her next to him, for the rest of his life, was unacceptable.

As he looked into the eyes of the woman who’d brought him into this world, an unbearable memory reared its head—King Edward, bringing him to his father’s dead body on the battlefield.

“I know I’ve disappointed you again,” Garrick said, gritting his teeth against the pain, “and I am sorry—”

“Disappointed me?” Her confusion appeared genuine. “Son, you’ve not disappointed me. Ever.”

That steely tone nearly convinced him of her words. But not quite. While his mother may be willing to absolve him, he knew the truth.

Yet he wouldn’t be the one to say the words aloud, to shed light on his deepest shame.

“Look at me.”

He’d been doing so, though she somehow knew his mind had been elsewhere.

“When do you believe you’ve disappointed me?”

“Can we discuss—”

“Garrick. When?”

He felt his muscles tense as if in preparation for battle. Well, this was a battle of a different sort. “When I killed Father.”

Neither of them spoke. Of course, when she did recover, his mother would tell him he was wrong. Like Emma, she would attempt to convince him that his father had made the decision to leave on his own. That he was no more responsible for his death than he was for a summer storm.

“So you killed your father.” Her tone caught him by surprise. Rather than deny the truth, she stated it factually. “Let me see . . . you talked him into joining you on one last adventure. To use the skills he’d trained his whole life to gain. And because of it, I no longer have a husband, Clave and Linkirk have a new earl, and your father can no longer offer the advice you so crave from him.”

“Aye,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Then you knew the man not at all.”

What was she saying?

“I was his wife for many more years than he was your sire. And I loved him. Nay, not at first, for our marriage was arranged, but those first months were nothing compared to the years of love we shared. And do you know how he felt about me? About you?”

Of course he did. “Father loved us both.”

“Aye, Garrick, he loved us both. Very much. Just slightly more than he loved his men and the defenses he built, though perhaps we were on equal footing with the victory of battle. He craved battle. Needed it as much as he needed to eat or breathe. Your father, like you, was a knight. A trained warrior devoted to his God, his family, his people, and when it suited him, his country. My efforts to keep him here were futile. He’d never accept my terms. To wait at Clave knowing he could have been fighting side by side with the boy who had become a man in his image?”

Her shoulders slumped, but she looked at him with flashing eyes. “To consider it for even a moment desecrates the memory of one of the greatest knights—earls—in all of England. Certainly the greatest border lord, who was proud to have spent so many years of his life devoted to securing the border.”

Garrick didn’t know what to say. He’d assumed—

“You’re wrong, son. So very, very wrong. You did not kill your father any more than I did.” She shook her head. “Disappointed in you? A man who puts the needs of his men above his own. Who has more discipline in his right arm than Conrad has in—”

“Mother.”

She enjoyed teasing Conrad nearly as much as he did. Though sometimes Garrick suspected she was not teasing.

“Very well.” She stood and walked toward him. “I have never been disappointed in you. And never will be.” She took his hands.

“Are you saying—”

“This is a terrible idea. You said you understand the repercussions, but they will be far and wide. Bernard will be infuriated, and if he was indeed behind the attack, he’ll clearly not rest until my claim has been overthrown unless we can prove it was him. Magnus will declare Linkirk an enemy. He’ll expect recompense, and there is a very real chance he’ll join Bernard in a war against us.”

“Then why are you so calm?”

His mother dropped his hands and looked up to the ceiling. “We will need to offer him something valuable. The man is richer than his king. I’d give him my share of Linkirk if I could.”

“Mother, Linkirk is your ancestral home. The title is—”

“Nothing more than that. A title. You are my son. My living, breathing son who means more to me than a thousand titles and castles.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “You love her?”

“Very much.”

“And she loves you?”

“She does.”

“What is your plan? To speak with Magnus after the meal?”

He reached for his mother and pulled her into his embrace. Emma had tried to tell him, to make him see reason, but he’d not been ready to listen.

“I love you, Mother,” he said, a catch in his voice.

“I love you too, son.” She pulled back and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was already thinking, plotting. Planning.