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“But he invited families as well,” she tried.
“Peculiar, that.”
Emma didn’t comment.
“It’s less than a half-day ride. What trouble could I possibly get into on Caiser land?”
That seemed to give him pause. Maybe she could convince him after all? Although it hardly mattered. Emma was going, with or without her brother’s permission.
“No retort?” a soft voice asked from behind them.
Emma turned, grateful for her sister-in-law’s support. “Good day, Sara.”
“Good day, Emma.” She walked to Geoffrey and leaned up for a quick kiss. “Husband.”
Emma followed Geoffrey’s gaze behind her. The hall was empty but for a handful of servants moving trestle tables into place for the midday meal.
“Faye is with him. Sleeping again.”
Apparently satisfied, Geoffrey finally answered.
“You could get into trouble in your own bedchamber,” he said. Emma’s heart pounded. Her brother’s statement was truer than he realized.
Sara gave him a chastening look and a slight nod, and to Emma’s shock, he relented.
“Fine. But you ride next to me. And will remain at Clave until we return.”
Spirits soaring, Emma grinned at Sara. “And where else do you believe I would go? Clave is, after all, an island.”
“With the exception of twice a day during low tide.”
“Oh, aye,” she said. “When I can make a dashing escape, riding swiftly to the shore where I—”
“We’ve been invited to stay the night,” he interrupted.
Emma froze. Sara had not mentioned that. She’d been wondering how it would be possible to steal a moment alone with Garrick, and now it seemed she’d have ample opportunity.
“Oh, there’s Peter. Finally. If you’ll excuse me.” Geoffrey left her and Sara alone together before the enormous mantel.
“Emma? What is amiss?”
Her sister-in-law knew her well. For the past two days, Emma had vacillated about whether she should confide in Sara. Still undecided, she’d taken to avoiding her instead.
Emma shifted her weight. “Amiss?”
Today, Sara looked every bit the countess in her simple cream day gown, her hair in a jeweled filet. It made it more difficult to withstand her penetrating stare.
“Emma?”
“Sara?” she teased. She was just not ready to tell her all. In truth, Edith had scared her.
“I would never presume to ask you to reveal what you don’t wish to tell,” Sara said finally. “Shall we?” She gestured to the chairs in front of the mantel.
Once they were both seated, Sara turned to her and asked, “I know you’ve told the tale of the attack before, but are there other details you can remember?”
The memories still assailed her, but she’d much rather talk about that than discuss her feelings for the earl.
“I was so scared,” she admitted. “And Garrick insisted I not look upon the dead, although I did peek. Everyone seems to think Garrick’s uncle may be responsible.”
