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“Garrick, stop,” Conrad said.

She emerged with the groom and Nella.

“If she doesn’t leave now, she’ll not get to Kenshire before dusk.”

“She’s not going anywhere alone,” Garrick bellowed.

“Let me escort her back.”

Nay, he needed to do it. If he let her go now, she would think—

“You are needed here,” Conrad said. “Unless you’d like to start a war this very day. She’ll be safe with me. Go back, speak to your guests. Mollify them. Do whatever you must, but do not abandon them. Not like this.”

Garrick watched her mount and looked back up to the castle. Though part of him hated Conrad for being right, he knew there was no denying that he was in fact correct.

“Go,” he finally said, watching the wetness become water.

His friend didn’t waste a moment. Garrick watched as Conrad ran to the stables and emerged on horseback a moment later, following Emma.

Hurry.

He knew the tide well, and if they were to make it across safely, there wasn’t a moment to lose. But he should not have worried. Garrick had momentarily forgotten about Emma’s skills. Conrad, an expert horseman himself, had difficulty catching her. He would eventually, but she wouldn’t make it easy. And Conrad would have to wait for the next low tide to return unless he took a boat and left his horse behind on the mainland.

As they became smaller and smaller, Emma’s words came back to him.

They’ve been here for more than a day.

She was right. So why had he not spoken to his mother yet? He’d told himself last eve that they were tired from travel. But he hadn’t sought her out first thing this morning either.

Why?

Because he was about to devastate her. And he didn’t wish to be responsible for breaking his mother’s heart.

Again.

25

He was no longer following her.

Emma looked back to be sure. He was indeed gone.

Emma’s heart had leapt at the sight of the man trailing her on horseback. At first glance, she’d thought it was Garrick, and irrational hope had filled her up. Only upon reaching the shore had she realized it was Sir Conrad, and not Garrick, following her.

Not wanting to speak to him, or anyone, she’d ridden on as fast as she could, relenting only for a short respite once she reached Caiser land. But Brookhurst had hung back, thankfully, and now he was gone.

Finally, after what had seemed like days, Kenshire Castle came into view.

“Lady Emma,” said Reginald, who had been speaking to a groom.

She stopped Nella in front of the stables. Worry was etched on Reginald’s face, but he did not comment on her excursion. If only she could be so lucky with her brother.

“Good day,” she said. Though it was no longer daytime. Without the sun, the frigid January air turned uncomfortable, especially after a long day’s journey. She hadn’t been warm all day, and she could not wait to feel the heat of a fire on her hands.

And her backside.

She smiled, remembering a day from her childhood. After spending too much time in the saddle, she’d returned to Aunt Lettie and Uncle Simon’s manor, promptly made her way to the fireplace, and turned around, sticking her backside nearly into the flames. Bryce had caught her like that and still teased her about it.

“You look happy, my lady.”