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“Roaming around will tire you out, to be sure.” There was a teasing sparkle in the other girl’s eyes.

As much as she wished to stay abed for a little longer, there was no need to keep her friend in suspense. “Come here and sit!” she said. “I’ve so much to tell you.”

Edith picked up a stool and brought it over.

“Go on, then,” she said, taking a seat. Her tone told Emma she’d been waiting, with varying degrees of patience, all morning.

“He loves me,” she blurted.

Emma laughed at her maid’s shocked expression.

“I can hardly believe it myself, but I feel the same way. I think I knew at the inn the other day. Or mayhap before, at Dunmure, watching Clara and Alex together. There’s always been something . . . I can’t explain it. But I told myself it didn’t matter. And then I found out he was getting married. Maybe that’s when I knew. I felt as if I’d been punched—”

“Slow down! I can hardly follow you—”

“But in the storeroom, when he did that, I thought, ‘Well, Emma, now you know what desire is all about.’ But love? Maybe it was a bit of both—”

“Did what?”

Emma could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say that, exactly.

“Never mind.”

She rushed to change the topic.

“I know what you’re thinking. ‘But Emma, he’s an earl. You’ve turned away every powerful man who’s sought your hand. You want to be in control. To run your own household, aye, but also to have a husband who won’t tell you that you can’t go to a tournament, or that it’s too dangerous to travel to Scotland. To be a partner, like Sara—’”

“Are ye finished talkin’ to yourself?”

“Quite.”

A sudden thought occurred to Emma, and she sat up so quickly she felt dizzy for just a moment. “Edith!”

“Aye, my lady?”

“He did not ask to marry me.” She rushed to explain. “Of course he cannot. He is still betrothed. But he did not promise to marry me if he succeeds in breaking off the betrothal. Mayhap—”

“He said he loved you?”

“Aye.”

“And that he would delay his wedding?”

“Aye, but you don’t understand. ’Tis not just a wedding. His uncle resents that Garrick’s mother inherited the title. And that his father, before he passed into the afterlife”—Emma crossed herself—“was the Earl of Linkirk. He could cause trouble. ’Tis why his mother encouraged this alliance with the Earl of Magnus’s daughter.”

Emma did not like Edith’s expression. She’d expected excitement or interest, but she saw only doubt.

“So, you see, ’tis quite a tangle.”

She jumped out of bed, no longer wanting to look at the doubt on her friend’s face. “Come, I must speak with Sara at once.”

“My lady,” Edith said from behind her.

Something in Edith’s tone enticed her to turn around.

“If what you say is true . . .”

“Aye, Edith, ’tis true. But Garrick knows better than—”