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Today.

Emma briefly considered finding Edith to tell her, but she didn’t want her maid to be forced to lie for her. She also did not want Geoffrey riding to Clave to haul her back to Kenshire before she could even speak to Garrick.

What to do? It was perhaps a bit foolish to go alone. But she could not trust anyone to keep from telling her brother.

If she left without word, they would all worry. Though she could easily make it to Clave Castle and back within the day, she’d not return at least until the sun began to set.

Emma jumped from the bed and grabbed a small wooden box that contained parchment and quills. She was about to open it when her eye caught the carving etched into the box. She ran her finger over it and took it to her bed.

This box was the only thing she’d requested from Bristol. It had been her mother’s, and when Geoffrey had brought it home to her, her hands had shaken so violently upon taking it she’d feared she would drop it.

What would Mother think of Garrick?

Everyone, from her brothers to her aunt and uncle to Faye and the servants—everyone reminded her of her similarities to her mother, not just in looks but in manner. The fact that she had died attempting to fight off a Scottish warrior likely twice her size had surprised no one.

Would her mother encourage her to preserve the agreement Garrick had made? Encourage her to allow what she’d told Garrick to stand? To do what he thought was right? Or would she urge her to follow her heart?

Emma flipped open the box and took out the quill.

After writing the message, folding it, and placing it on the bed where Edith would be sure to find it, Emma dressed in a practical navy-blue riding gown, a tunic, and a sideless surcoat. There was no time for anything but a quick brush of her hair. Grabbing a mint leaf, she popped it into her mouth and set off.

Avoiding the hall, and unfortunately the kitchens too, she made her way to the stables. She saw only a few servants, all of whom let her pass with a “good morn” and no questions.

With the sun just barely risen, it was quite cold. This time she remembered her cloak before stepping outside, and when Eddard himself appeared at the door of the stables, she stopped short.

“Lady Emma?”

She was not typically one to be up and about so early.

“Good morn, Eddard,” Emma said. She ignored his look of surprise and strode purposefully toward Nella. “How is my girl doing this fine morning?”

She kept her eyes on Nella for fear Eddard would be able to guess at her purpose if he saw her face.

“You wish to ride so early?”

“Please.”

One thing she’d learned from Bryce—the less explanation the situation required, the less one should offer. She walked back outside, hoping to avoid further questions. When Eddard led Nella to her, she thanked him and, without further comment, pulled her hood more tightly about her face and made off toward Clave.

Geoffrey would be furious to learn she’d ridden so far without an escort. Or that she’d traveled to Clave at all. But most of the journey would be on Caiser land, and she planned to ride along the coast for the remainder of the trip. Depending on the timing of her arrival, she may have to wait for the tide to allow her access, but Emma was not concerned about her safety.

What would happen when she found Garrick?

That was a different sort of worry entirely.

* * *

Garrick needed to get out. Since the party’s arrival yesterday, he’d not had a moment to himself, and before he spoke to his mother, Garrick needed time to himself. Time to think through what could be the most foolish decision of his life. After first informing Mable of his intentions and his whereabouts, he hurried away from the castle. The previous day had been disastrous, and today would undoubtedly prove to be much worse. If it was rude to be absent from the midday meal, then let him be guilty of neglecting his unwanted guests.

Leaving the keep in Mable’s capable care, Garrick strode down the path that led to the stables. He’d considered taking a ride to clear his head but had dismissed the idea. Though it was still low tide, the waters would soon rise, and he couldn’t be away for very long. So instead, he took the path that led beyond the stables toward the training yard. It would be empty, of course, but it was the place he felt most at peace.

Garrick was about to turn a corner when he heard voices behind him, at the entrance to the stables. It wasn’t the groom’s voice that gave him pause, but the woman’s. Clearly he was hearing things. It couldn’t be her.

“There’s no need for escort,” she said. “But I thank you for your offer.”

Nay, it was not possible.

“But the guards—”