The Earl's Entanglement (Border Series Book 5)(73)

“I’m anxious to get to know the woman you’d have started a war to wed.”

“And nearly did,” Garrick replied.

He’d expected Magnus to fly into a rage when he approached him the previous evening, and indeed, the Scotsman would have attempted to cleave off his head had he not been armed. Magnus had charged at Garrick, bellowing as only a warrior going into battle could do. His roar had echoed off the stone walls of his solar, servants from as far away as the great hall likely overhearing the exchange, and if Conrad had not been present to intervene, it would have gone very badly for him. And then a miracle had happened.

“What do you suppose Magnus would have done had his daughter not declared her pregnancy?”

“I don’t know,” he said, angling Bayard around a brood of hens that had wandered onto the road. The dry, hard earth beneath Bayard’s hooves allowed for a faster pace for which Garrick was grateful.

“You’ve the luck of the devil, my friend.”

Garrick didn’t believe in luck, but given Conrad’s superstitious nature, he’d not argue.

Just when it seemed certain Magnus would attempt to end his life, Alison, who’d stood quietly to the side up until that point, burst into tears. Garrick had asked for her to be there, a decision that would prove fateful. Her father’s face practically turned purple when she blurted out that she’d no wish to marry Garrick either. She was in love with another, although she refused to give her father his name. Of course, Magnus did not care what she thought and said so.

But when she burst out, “I am with child,” she had her father’s attention.

“Do you suppose Magnus will forgive her?”

“I’d like to believe so,” he said, grateful for Conrad’s attempt to distract him. Garrick had spent a sleepless night preparing his speech to Waryn. For the first time since he’d met Emma, he allowed himself to imagine their future. Making love to her, waking up to a woman who would bring life back to Clave.

“I’m sorry I’ve not supported you in this.”

He glanced over at the man he’d known for most of his life. Conrad, rarely serious, looked back at him, his lips set and expression grim.

“You were right not to,” he said.

“I won’t pretend to understand it. To risk so much for a woman.”

He’d have said the same before meeting Emma. Someday, perhaps Conrad would be fortunate enough to learn just how far a man would go to be with the woman he loved.

They fell silent until Kenshire Castle came into view. The air changed as they skirted the village and approached the coast. Garrick had always preferred to travel during the winter months. Some shied away from the bitter cold, but the roads were safer with fewer travelers.

“I’ve never become accustomed to this view,” Conrad said.

They’d come here often as boys, but Garrick agreed. He’d seen much during his travels, but Kenshire was still one of the finest castles in England.

“Have you thought of how her brother might respond to your offer?”

Garrick had thought of little else since realizing he was free to wed Emma. Once Magnus had stormed from Clave, taking his disgraced daughter with him, Garrick had sought out his mother. Though she agreed that a match with Emma Waryn may present further problems for Linkirk, especially if his uncle wasn’t brought to justice, she was joyful that he’d found love. Garrick and his mother decided to leave his uncle’s fate in the hands of the wardens. He’d “trust in the process,” as Emma had said.

Garrick also realized he’d be asking for the earl’s only sister’s hand in marriage. Emma may want him, but if her brother did not, he would have a tough go of it.

“I’m grateful Edward trusted me to negotiate with his enemies. Compared to that, surely one former reiver will not be a problem.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Garrick wanted to take them back. For Kenshire Castle loomed large in front of them, and very soon, he’d find out just how much of a problem the earl would present.

“What of Lady Sara? At least she knows you well.”

Garrick picked up speed, wanting to be there now. “Aye,” he yelled back to Conrad as he passed him. “Which is precisely why I am worried.”





28





Emma had avoided everyone since her talk with Sara the evening before. She’d skipped the evening meal, much to Edith’s and Sara’s dismay.

No one truly believed she had a headache.

Emma had tossed and turned all night, only to wake still thinking of the masked man on horseback from her dream. He’d ridden toward her with no markings on himself or his horse, but Emma had refused to retreat. Instead, she’d charged directly toward him, unsure of how she would defeat an armed knight. Then he’d pulled off his mask, revealing himself as a messenger from Kenshire.

Realizing it had been but a dream, Emma rose from her bed, added a log to the fire, washed her face and hands, and promptly crawled back into bed.

Ultimately, it was not prodding from Sara or Edith that finally forced her to rise, but her own mother. After her father had caught her in her attempt to attend the Tournament of the North and sent her home with a severe scolding, Emma had expected her mother would also want to have a strict word with her. And though she’d managed to avoid her for a spell, her mother had eventually found her at Bristol Sprout, a waterfall not far from the manor. But rather than berate her as her father had done, she simply told her to “keep fighting like a knight cornered in battle. As a woman, you’ll be forced to do so until the day of your death.”