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What Clave lacked in size, being trapped on an island, it made up for in splendor. It seemed as if gold sparkled from every corner, yet it was neither cold nor unapproachable. The Clave coat of arms hung prominently above a raised dais. The high wooden beams that crisscrossed above them shined as if they’d just been freshly cleaned.
The room was filled with strangers, men and a few women, all unknown to her. But apparently she was alone in that, as greetings abounded between the great border lords. Just as she’d suspected, Garrick was swallowed by his guests the moment he followed her inside, but a strange woman soon approached her. A lady’s maid?
Before Emma could tell her she’d brought her own maid, the woman said, “Good day, Lady Emma. I am Mable, the steward here. Lord Clave asked if I—”
“Steward?”
It was incredibly impolite, but Emma could not contain her surprise. She’d never met a female steward before.
Mable was apparently accustomed to such a reaction and did not appear offended.
“Aye, my lady. Would you an’ your lady’s maid care to refresh yourselves from the journey?”
Emma glanced around the room. Another small party had arrived, and this time it was someone Emma recognized. Lord Huntington. Bryce had squired with the man, and though she had no opinion of him, Emma despised his now-married daughter. The woman had rebuked Bryce after learning he was a second son, thereby breaking her steadfast brother’s heart. But no matter. If the woman hadn’t acted so poorly, Bryce would not have met and married Catrina.
“Of course,” she murmured to the steward, trying not to seek out Garrick in the crowd. She found Edith instead, and the steward led them through a long, well-lit corridor and then up a winding set of stone steps.
“This is the best chamber, beside the lord’s and lady’s, of course. The view, ’tis—”
Emma gasped. Upon entering the room, she was immediately drawn to the window. Though its shutters were only slightly open, she could already see why Mable had complimented the room. Even though the flowers were not in bloom, Emma could tell the area below the steep drop-off from her window was an expansive garden. Rocks intermingled with the remnants of plants, all of it leading down to the rocks that lined the coast. Beyond that, there was only ocean.
“The view?”
“’Tis mid-tide, my lady. You arrived just in time.”
“I knew Clave was a tidal island, but to see it happening—”
Mable moved to the window and closed and latched the shutters. “My apologies for the cold air. I can’t imagine why these were left open. On the other side of the castle, you’d see the causeway is just barely covered with water now. Within the hour, boats will bring the remaining guests.”
Remarkable.
“I’ll put my things here,” Edith said, coming up from behind her.
“Nay.”
Garrick’s voice, so unexpected, made her jump.
“Mable, please see Mistress Edith to the servants’ quarters.”
The steward startled. “Aye, as you please, my lord.”
Mable and Edith left at once, taking Emma’s wits with them.
“What are you doing here?” she finally managed to ask. “Garrick, your guests . . . my brother.”
He closed the door behind him as she spoke, and then reached for her before she could utter another word. She kissed him eagerly, feeling as prey to the emotions and desire churning inside her as the cobbled walkway was to the tide.
His lips moved over hers, his tongue insistent, and she met every thrust. She pulled him closer just as Garrick broke contact.
“I had to, Emma. I needed to know.”
His breath smelled of mint. His scent was exactly as she’d remembered it.
“Geoffrey—”
“Will not miss me for a few moments. None know where you are but me.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “God, I’ve missed you.”