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“Back to work,” Eddard said to the others.

“I don’t understand.”

“She arrived just moments ago. The messenger only said ’twas a gift for Lady Emma Waryn.”

“Where is this messenger?” She looked around but saw no one unfamiliar.

“I sent Reginald to escort him to your brother. I also sent word to you, but—”

“Who would do such a thing?” She knew enough about horses to know this one was worth a fortune. “Pure Spanish?” she asked.

Eddard nodded. “Aye.”

Emma’s hand froze. Graeme? Could it be a wedding gift?

Nay, of course not. He would not have even received the message yet. At the moment, she was still unattached.

“I thought perhaps you might know, my lady. There was no message, just ‘a gift for Lady Emma.’ He did also say, ‘Since she could not go to them, I brought one to her.’”

She did not wait for the rest—if, indeed, there was more. She ran to the door of the stable, looking out, hoping to see him, needing to know she was right.

Garrick had sent the horse to her. He’d gifted her with the finest horse Emma had ever seen in her life.

Why? Did he feel poorly about the way things had ended? Was it his way of apologizing? Or was it possible he’d spoken to his mother after all?

Emma turned back to catch a glimpse of white as Eddard led her new horse into the back of the stables. She needed to find the messenger, who could verify the gift was indeed from the Earl of Clave. She ran all the way back to the keep and into the great hall. No one.

Until she spied Faye emerging from the back of the castle, near the kitchens.

“Faye,” she called. “Have you seen my brother?”

When the older woman looked up toward the balcony, Emma immediately knew. She didn’t wait for a reply but ran up the winding stone stairs into the solar. Opening the door without knocking, she gasped.

Her brother, and Sara, were indeed inside. But it was the room’s third occupant who caused her heart to skip a beat.

29

How did you . . .”

They all turned to look at her, but Emma stared straight at Garrick. Her heart was beating so rapidly, she feared it would fly out of her chest.

“When did you arrive?” That was certainly not the question she wanted to ask. But it would do, for now.

“Within the hour,” he said, getting to his feet. Garrick was not happy. “Your brother,” he said, his words slow and measured, “was just explaining why he is unable to accept my offer of marriage yet.”

Marriage?

“That you—” He cleared his throat. “Are to be wed to Graeme de Sowlis.”

Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. He was no more pleased than Garrick.

“Wed?”

“I’d have spoken to you first, Emma. But I thought you’d readily agree. It seemed prudent to speak to your brother before seeking you out.”

Emma couldn’t seem to straighten out her thoughts. The room suddenly seemed too warm to bear.

“But when I left Clave, you . . .”