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“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.

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.