Page 3 of The Earl’s Entanglement

Her brother leaned down to kiss his wife on the cheek. Her smile reminded Emma of one of the reasons she adored the countess so much. For some unfathomable reason, Sara loved her brother mightily.

He then kissed Hayden, winked at her, and left the bedchamber.

Brute.

“Emma . . .” Sara chided.

“I didn’t mean to say that aloud.” Sara was looking at her with that combination of I understand he can be overly protective and be nice, he’s your brother and he loves you.

“I just don’t understand him. We have a large enough retinue of men to take all of Northumbria. Not, of course, that we would do such a thing. He trusts none of them on a few days’ journey north?”

Even so, Emma was finding it difficult to stay angry. Every time she looked down at her new nephew, she wanted to kiss him a hundred times. He slept peacefully in her arms, and Emma’s eyes welled with tears at the thought of leaving him. Though he was just a few weeks old, she loved her new nephew beyond reason.

“I’m sorry, Sara. This is my argument with Geoffrey, not yours.”

Sara swung her legs around, startling Emma.

“What are you doing? Geoffrey—”

“You are not the only one exasperated with your well-meaning brother.”

The birthing had been difficult, and although the countess did not credit the midwife’s admonishment to stay abed until she “healed properly,” Geoffrey did. Each time Sara attempted to move about, he seemed to sense it and swooped in like a mother bird to tuck her back into bed.

“I do adore Adele, but some of her methods are . . .”

The women looked at each other and smiled. They’d discussed this before, and neither of them was sure who had suffered more during Hayden’s birth: Sara or Adele. The midwife had prayed so hard and so often to St. Margaret that it was a wonder the saint herself didn’t make an appearance just to shush the old woman. When the babe’s head finally appeared, Adele broke down in tears of relief, convinced the combination of her prayers and rose oil had made it so.

Granted, the old woman had delivered Lady Sara herself many years earlier and loved the countess like her own, but Emma would have expected a midwife with so many years of experience to be more accustomed to difficult births. Luckily Sara had done so as well and knew she would be just fine.

Sara reached for her son. “Can you please tell Faye I’d like to dress?”

Emma reluctantly handed Hayden to his mother.

“If I have to stare at this canopy any longer . . . I’m quite ready to join the living once again,” Sara said.

If her sister-in-law was representative of the dead, they were a comely group indeed. Though Sara’s cheeks were still a bit rounded from pregnancy, Emma could not envision a lovelier sight. Her sparkling eyes and smile spoke of good health and high spirits. It pleased her to no end that some said they looked like twins. Emma had grown up with three brothers, and it was still a dizzying pleasure to have Sara, who had come to feel like another sister.

“As for visiting Clara . . .” Sara rocked Hayden as she had done earlier. “I do believe with the right companions the journey will be perfectly safe. Let me speak to your brother.”

“Sara, nay, ’tis my problem—”

“Which makes it mine as well. Clara would be overjoyed to see you, and your brother is simply being stubborn. I will speak to him.”

“Thank you.” In truth, it was what she’d hoped for, and she couldn’t help but smile. No one was more tenacious than Sara when she wanted something.

“You’d best ask Adele to begin knitting the blanket now.”

Adele, despite her crooked fingers, was skilled at more than just birthing babes. The blanket in which Hayden was now peacefully bundled was one of many she’d made for the new heir to Kenshire.

“You believe he will allow it?” Emma asked.

“I’ve not known you to want for something without getting it. And as for me”—she smiled—“I have some influence over him as well.”

Between the two of them, Emma had no doubt her poor brother would relent before long.

2

You are insufferable!”