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“You should leave.”

He had that look about him. A warrior’s look. But it no longer frightened her. The tick in his jaw begged to be touched. He wanted it to be touched. It was why he was so desperate for her to leave. She’d come to say goodbye, aye. But she’d also come to feel his arms around her one last time. To be cherished by his lips, kissed like she was the one he would marry.

At some point in these last days, her fears about marrying an earl had begun to melt away.

Emma had not stopped thinking about their encounter in the storeroom even for a moment. Or how he defended her—so fiercely—in battle. And then at dinner, when he’d prodded her brother to take her to the tourney.

Aye, this was a powerful, forceful man. An earl in two countries.

But he was also Garrick.

Her Garrick.

“If you don’t, I will dishonor you, Sara, your brother, my mother—”

“Your mother? Not your intended?”

They stood close enough to touch, but neither reached out. It was as if they both knew the flames, once sparked, would not be doused.

“My mother wants this marriage. Deserves it, after I—” He stopped.

“After you what, Garrick?”

He shook his head.

“What? You can tell me. After you—”

“Killed my father.” Clearly, he was as surprised he’d uttered such words as she was to hear them.

“How could you possibly—”

“It was my idea.”

He swallowed, and Emma didn’t move. She was afraid to do anything that might stop his lips.

“I’d fought alongside Edward before. When he decided to join the king of France in the foreign campaign, I received the summons.” Garrick ran his hand through his hair and made a sound. A painful, strained one utterly unlike anything she’d heard from him before.

“When you received the summons?” she prodded.

“He’d been saying for months he felt useless. Age had begun to claim his body. He’d slowed down, but he was still one of the finest warriors I knew.” He frowned. “I wished to prove it to him.”

She waited for him to continue, still unmoving.

“I encouraged him to come with me. My mother begged for him to stay. Neither of us listened.”

And so he thought it was his fault his father had been killed. This was the weight he carried on his shoulders.

“Garrick, you didn’t—”

“If I hadn’t talked him into coming, he would still be the earl.” He looked at her with such pain in his eyes. “I would be—”

“Garrick Clave, listen to me.”

When she grabbed both of his hands, a jolt ran through her. The spark in his eye assured her that he felt it too.

“You did not kill your father.”

He tried to pull away, but Emma would not allow it.