The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(72)

He was ready.



“Emma?”

She’d been dreaming of Garrick. Part of her wanted to get up, knowing his touch was simply her mind’s cruel trick. But most of her wanted to go back to sleep and forget that the Earl of Magnus and his daughter currently resided at Clave and that she’d forsaken her claim to Garrick.

Sara’s voice penetrated the fog of sleep. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see her chamber fully lit. The sun had risen.

“I missed mass,” she said.

“And the meal,” Sara replied. “When Edith told me you wouldn’t stir, I began to worry.”

Emma pulled her covers closer, not making any attempt to get up. The bed sagged where Sara sat beside her.

“No gown this morn?” Emma asked.

Sara looked down at her loose shirt and modified breeches. “Would you like to join me for a ride?”

Normally, she would do so without hesitation. Today, she simply wanted to go back to sleep. “No, thank you.”

She turned from Sara’s look of pity and stared at a tapestry on the wall, looking at the blues, reds, and yellows. The vibrant colors did not match her mood.

“I did the right thing,” Emma murmured.

“Perhaps.”

“You even said you might have done the same.”

“Emma, I don’t know what I’d have done for certain. But I do know you should follow your own path. Not mine. Or your brother’s. Yours.”

“I tried to do just that. Going to Clave . . .”

“What happened there?”

Emma sighed. She sat up, knowing she couldn’t stay abed all day. “Garrick found me in the stables. We . . .”

A flush crept up her neck to her cheeks. “I am a virgin still,” she managed.

“I’d not tell your brother.” Sara smiled. “Though, as you know, he’d have no cause to censure you.”

Emma knew better than to respond to that particular statement. She continued, “But then he told me she was there.”

“She?”

“His betrothed. She and her father, Magnus, came with Garrick’s mother from Scotland. Presumably to protest the proposed delay, although I never actually asked him.”

As much as she hated to say the words aloud, Emma wanted Sara to know everything. “He had not yet spoken to his mother, and I could sense he was hesitant to do so. That’s why I left.”

“I see.”

“I ran. Well, I told him to marry her . . . and then I ran.” What were they doing right now? Had they already set a wedding date? Was Garrick thinking of her?

“Geoffrey told me about Graeme.”

Graeme. How could she have forgotten about that? “He’s a good man,” Emma said, her voice flat.

“Emma, perhaps you should take some time to think about the offer. After what happened with Garrick—”

“Nay,” she said. Too quickly, she added, “I’m ready to marry.”

“You say it as if you’re being sent to the gallows. No one is forcing you. I just think—”

She shook her head. “I’m ready,” she repeated. “Graeme is honorable and loyal.”

She sighed. “’Twill be as good a match as any. Better than most.”

“But he’s only just offered. You have time.”

“Geoffrey is sending word, or has done so already. ’Tis done.” She tried to smile, hoping to ease the lines of worry on her sister-in-law’s face. Regret was a needless emotion for either of them. It no longer mattered what she wanted. She’d made a decision, come what may. “’Tis done.”

Emma jumped from the bed, prepared to start the day. “It seems we’ve much to do,” she said, trying to summon some enthusiasm. She’d face this day, and all the ones after it, with the same strength and grace as Sara. “I’ll need a gown, I suppose. Do you think a tailor could be found this time of year? And these trunks—” She pointed to the two large wooden chests at the foot of her bed. “Shall I take—”

“Emma, wait.”

“I’ve not been married before. Will you help me prepare?”

“Of course, but—”

She pulled Sara from the bed with both hands and tried to smile. It felt more like a grimace. “Then come. We’ve a wedding to prepare for.”

Though her feet felt as if they were made of iron, she forced them to move.

I will not think of Garrick. I will not think of Garrick.

Sara looked as if she wanted to say something but changed her mind. Emma held back hot, stinging tears, trying to put thoughts of the earl out of her head.





27





Garrick!”

He heard the shout behind him, but Garrick would not slow down. He urged Bayard and his gift forward, ignoring Conrad . . . or at least attempting to.

“Garrick.”

When he shifted to look back, Bayard instinctively slowed just enough to allow Conrad to reach him.

“If you plan to marry the Waryn girl, getting yourself killed en route will not help your cause.”

He relented, if only to cease Conrad’s incessant admonishments for him to slow down.

Now on Caiser land, Garrick couldn’t get to his love quickly enough. He would have made the trip the previous night if not for the rising tide, which turned Clave into an island twice a day.