Page 13 of The Earl’s Entanglement

She strained her neck forward to glance at her older brother, who was whispering something to Sara.

She took a sip, concentrating on the smooth taste of the red velvet vintage slipping down her throat. Think of the wine. Emma very much loved—

“Your horse.”

“Wine.” God’s teeth, what was she saying?

She looked at him then. Wouldn’t it be rude not to? He appeared quite confused, and rightly so.

“My brother enjoys wine,” she said, trying to make sense of her prattling words.

“As do I.” He proved the truth of his words by reaching for his own goblet.

“Aye, she is sick,” she said, finally remembering to answer his question. “Eddard is not worried because she continues to eat, but she is not acting quite herself.”

“Nella,” he said. “What other symptoms does she have?”

Why did her horse’s name seem like such an intimate thing for him to say?

Oh yes, symptoms.

“She is warm. And was lying down earlier when you . . .”

Sara and Geoffrey did not appear to be paying them any mind, but on the off chance that they were listening, she didn’t want them to know they’d met prior to their introduction outside the hall. So she stopped talking.

Garrick raised his brows and whispered, “So very scandalously gave you my cloak?”

Though he said it in a teasing tone, his words were quiet enough for her ears only, ensuring their rather improper meeting would remain a secret.

“I didn’t think to be there so long,” she answered. “Otherwise I would have brought my own cloak.”

He took another sip, this one much deeper, his eyes on her as his lips covered the rim of the goblet. She swallowed.

“I will check on her after the meal,” he said.

“You will?”

His expression was so neutral, Emma couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. She’d often wondered whether great lords were given some sort of special training to conjure such unreadable expressions. But when she’d asked Sara about it, her sister-in-law had simply laughed.

“I have an affinity for horses,” he said. “An interest in them that placed me too often in the stables growing up, if you listen to my mother tell the tale.”

An affinity for horses.

So many thoughts and feelings bubbled up in Emma at that moment. She’d grown up wanting nothing more than to be with her horses. To ride them. To simply be in their company. Being with Nella gave her more pleasure than being with just about anyone. For some reason, though, Emma kept her thoughts to herself. She didn’t want him to know all of that. Something told her it would only make this, whatever it was, more difficult.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He inclined his head just slightly, properly acknowledging her thanks.

“So, Garrick,” Sara said. “You mentioned passing through Kenshire. Where do you go next?”

Emma concentrated on the pattern of flowers etched into her goblet. She’d never noticed how pretty it was, the stems of the roses entwining—

“To Scotland, my lady.”

“Linkirk?”

“Aye, my mother is there. After she received word of my father’s death in Acre, she thought it a necessary trip.”