CHAPTER NINE

 

Sophia tugged her cloak tighter as she and Garrick walked along the road to Berwick. Threatening clouds rolled in, and the wind took on a distinct chill. Garrick’s cousins had remained at the nunnery with Ilisa to assist with the lame horse for a little longer.

Ilisa had seemed quite impressed at Braden’s manner with the nunnery’s animals, including the injured mare. That was saying something as little impressed her any longer, especially if it involved men. Still, her interest had soon waned despite Braden and Chanse’s attempt to charm her.

“You’re very quiet this morn,” Sophia said as they neared the city gate.

Garrick smiled at her, the effortlessness of it surprising her. He gave it so easily. “My apologies, my lady. I suppose I have much on my mind.”

She nodded but said nothing, trying not to take offense that he chose not to impart those thoughts with her. Though they were still strangers, she’d hoped they’d grown closer. She wasn’t certain how to define their relationship. Acquaintance seemed too distant considering the kiss they’d shared. Friends perhaps?

“Sophia?” His deep voice was so quiet, she glanced up to make certain he’d actually said her name. “Have you ever considered leaving Berwick?”

She hesitated, debating whether to tell the truth. With a sigh, she relented. She could hardly expect him to confide anything in her if she wasn’t willing to do the same. “Aye. Especially since the siege. But I have responsibilities here. Besides, where would I go? Berwick is my home, for better or worse. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Did the prioress say something to you?”

“About what?”

“Me.” She hated to think anyone was feeling sorry for her, even the prioress. “Or my family.”

“Only that she realized how difficult life was for you with your older brother imprisoned.”

She shook her head. “Perhaps, but not compared to many. William may be locked away in some English holding, as is his son, but my family is still alive. Not everyone can say that.”

“I know I am overstepping my bounds, but at the very least I like to think we have become friends.”

She almost smiled that he had come to the same conclusion as she. Instead she nodded, uncertain where he was going with his comment.

“I worry about you.”

Before she could think of how to reply, they reached the gate. The guard greeted her and waved them both through. As soon as they passed the entrance, Garrick took her elbow and guided her down a side street toward the deserted rear of a shop.

He glanced around as though to make certain they were alone. Even though she saw no one about, he leaned close to whisper in her ear. “You must take great care.”

“Why?” Concern filled her at the urgency in his voice, at the intensity of his blue eyes. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing. You already know of the unrest in the city. I’ve heard whispers of it at the tavern and in the market square.”

“Aye, but surely plots involving how to keep Scotland under Scottish rule don’t involve me.”

“That is only one of the plans floating about. The other includes references to your family.”

She closed her eyes, suddenly so tired of the worry that was her constant companion. After a brief moment, she opened them, determined to find the strength that had carried her through these past two years. “Nothing has changed since my brother was taken. No new events have occurred.”

“Not here perhaps.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those rumors of trouble have reached the king’s ears. That means they hold merit. And they’re coming from more than one source.”

“How is it that you know what the King of England has heard?” Why would this knight who claimed to be here only to sell wool know such things? Was she allowing her growing attraction for this man to lower her defenses? She nearly shook her head. Of course she was. The true question was whether it was a mistake.

“I am only sharing what I’ve learned with the hope that it aids you,” he said. “From the little I’ve seen and heard since my arrival, it seems as if feelings are intensifying. Your presence here makes you an easy target—someone to blame for past events. I fear for your safety when things are so unsettled.” The warmth of his palm cupped her cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

The sincerity of his tone and his expression reassured her that he had her best interest at heart. She couldn’t help but lean into his hand, into the comfort he offered. His large form sheltered her from the wind and gave her the feeling of safety. Of security. While she knew it was fleeting, she still appreciated it.

When she looked up at him, she saw the change in his eyes. The blue sea color darkened then his gaze dropped to her lips.

Aye, she thought. Please kiss me again.

As though he’d heard her plea, he leaned closer and claimed her mouth. Heat poured through her. She rose on her toes to return the kiss, eager to give as much pleasure as she received.

In this moment, it no longer mattered that this man was an English knight. He was only a man to her. Albeit an attractive, kind, strong one, who worried for her safety and bought ribbons for his mother. The fleeting feeling rushing through her was so unfamiliar, she almost didn’t recognize it.

Joy.

How long had it been since she’d experienced such a sensation?

Though she knew it could not last, she latched onto it all the same, reveling in the wonder of it. After all that had happened, didn’t she have a right to experience a little happiness, however briefly?

Her thoughts fled when his mouth shifted over hers and his tongue demanded entrance. Surprise had her parting her lips, allowing his tongue to swirl against hers. The invasion created a matching swirl in her middle. She felt unbalanced and reached up to place her hands on Garrick’s chest. The solid strength of him made her eager to explore. She moved her hands up to the breadth of those shoulders that seemed wide enough to easily carry any burden.

Was that what she was? A burden to him? A worry for which he somehow felt responsible? Oh, she hoped not. More than anything, she wanted him to simply desire her as a woman. Not as a Douglas, not as Sir William’s sister. Only as Sophia.

She drew back, wanting to see if she could tell what had made him kiss her. His eyes held hers, revealing only his passion. That sparked hope. Could he possibly like her for who she was? Not for the connections she might provide him, but only for her? She could only blink at the idea of someone caring for her with no ulterior motive.

“I don’t want any harm to befall you, Sophia.” His deep whisper curled her toes in her slippers. “Promise me you’ll take extra care.”

“I will.”

“Send word if you ever have need of me, day or night. I will come.” He traced a finger along her cheek as though reluctant to release her.

She nodded, liking the idea of knowing someone would come to her aid if need be. Then she remembered—he wouldn’t be here much longer. She’d soon be on her own again. No matter how much she enjoyed Garrick’s company or his kisses, she’d soon be alone. She didn’t dare become too dependent on him.

As if sensing her withdrawal, he stepped back and glanced around. “I hope my presence isn’t causing any difficulty for you.”

A flicker of unease flared inside her. She supposed some would take issue with her aiding the knight. But her actions had been above reproach since the siege, and what good had that done her family? None that she could tell. Yet she couldn’t completely shed the caution that came over her.

“Why don’t you go on ahead?” Garrick suggested. “I’ll follow shortly. That way we won’t draw attention.”

Part of her wanted to protest. If she wanted to walk through the city at Garrick’s side, she should be able to do so. But she couldn’t bring herself to take such a risk. She had her family to think of.

“I will meet you at Edgar’s in a short while.” Unable to resist, she reached up to touch the softness of his hair just above his ear before she walked away.

The look of surprise on his face was her reward. Surely a little spontaneity couldn’t hurt either of them, could it?

 

~*~

 

As dusk fell, Garrick stood outside the inn, wondering if Braden and Chanse would return to the city before nightfall. In all honesty, he was a little unsettled without them. The afternoon had passed slowly without his cousins or Sophia for company.

The meeting with Edgar earlier in the day had gone well, at least Sophia had thought so. He had found the merchant arrogant, assuming Garrick knew nothing about wool. When Edgar had mentioned he was having a water wheel built, Garrick had complimented him on his forethought. Eliminating the need for fullers to stomp on it in a trough would soon cut down the merchant’s costs.

Though Garrick’s comments had seemed to win over Edgar, he had not yet offered a contract. Instead, he’d insisted on keeping the sample Garrick had shown him to discuss with someone else and had promised to let him know the results within a few days.

Sophia had been overly tense during the entire conversation, making him wonder if there was more to the situation than she’d told him thus far. Did Edgar have some sort of hold over her?

Though he would’ve enjoyed spending the rest of the day with Sophia, he didn’t want to harm her reputation with his presence. Nor did he trust himself enough to seek out a private place to be with her. The more time they spent together, the more he realized he needed a little distance to keep his desire under control. Never had a woman stirred him so.

He’d tried to make productive use of the rest of his day and made several stops throughout the city, visiting with various people he’d already met under the pretense of buying this or that. Some were more forthcoming than others, but nothing solid had come to his attention.

He wasn’t certain if that was good or bad.

The challenge with this mission was that no obvious enemy had stepped forward to fight. No one whom he could draw his sword against. Yet it was still a battle of sorts. A foe existed, of that he had no doubt.

He’d taken several punches from one the previous night and had given a few as well. Unfortunately, he hadn’t come across anyone who bore the marks of his fists.

He leaned against the wattle and daub siding of the inn, arms folded across his chest as he waited. He had no desire to sit alone at one of the tables inside. Supper could wait until his cousins returned.

The number of people, horses, and carts on the street had eased as the time for the evening meal arrived. Families were gathered around their tables, sharing food and conversation. He shook his head. Thinking such thoughts made him miss his own family. His father and mother, his brother Rylan, his sister, even Rylan’s new wife. What were they doing this evening?

Mist edged his eyesight, sending his focus inward as a vision stole over him. An image of Sophia filled his mind. She was in the marketplace where he’d seen her so many times since his arrival. But this time, fear etched her features. A knife flashed in the light as someone stabbed her in the stomach. She hunched forward, pain pinching her face.

A tug on his sleeve drew him out of the vision. He glanced down to see an old woman at his side peering up at him.

“Ye be well?” she asked, her Scottish brogue difficult to understand as he tried unsuccessfully to clear the terrible images from his mind.

Sophia stabbed? Christ. He straightened, his heart racing, his body demanding action. The old woman tugged on his sleeve once more.

“Dinna ye understand? Ye be well?” she asked again.

“I’m—” He had to clear his suddenly dry throat before he could speak. “I’m well.” He rubbed a hand over his face as he considered what he’d seen.

“Ye look as though ye seen a spirit.” Her cloudy eyes held steady on his, her wrinkled face and stooped shoulders a testament to her years.

“I hope not.” He had no desire to see Sophia’s ghost. Not if he could do anything to prevent it.

“Do ye have the sight?”

Garrick could only stare at her in stunned surprise. How could she possibly know?

“Do ye keen? The sight?” She nodded as if encouraging him to agree.

“Aye,” he found himself confessing. “I have the sight.”

She nodded again. “I saw it once before on a sassenach. Ye dinna hardly shuggle.” She gave a little shudder to show her meaning, then continued, “Got the same look in yer eyes though.”

He didn’t know what to say, partly because he only understood half of what she’d said. Luckily, she didn’t seem to expect a reply.

She patted his arm, gave him another nod. “Let the sight guide ye,” she advised then turned and made her way down the street, disappearing into the dusk.

“Who was that?” Braden asked as he and Chanse approached from the opposite direction.

“I’ve no idea.”

“What’s happened?” Chanse asked as he studied Garrick’s expression.

“A vision.” Again Garrick rubbed his hand over his face to clear his head, quelling the urge to run to Sophia’s cottage and pound on her door. But he knew she wasn’t in immediate danger. Not based on what he’d seen. “Someone stabbing Sophia.”

Chanse stiffened as though ready to fight. “Now?”

“Nay.” He closed his eyes for a moment to focus on the details of what he’d seen. Though he couldn’t say why, he was certain she’d been in the market square. Something about the background of the scene. His father had taught him to carefully consider the smallest details of visions. “The sunlight glinted off the blade, so it was daylight. I think it will happen in the market square.”

“You’re certain?” Braden asked.

Garrick nodded then gave up trying to convince himself. “I have to see her to be sure.”

“Will you tell her?” Chanse asked as he and Braden fell into step beside Garrick.

“Not yet. I don’t want her to worry. On the morrow will be soon enough.” He tried to think of an excuse for knocking on her door but nothing came to mind. He only knew he had to see her at this very moment and make certain she was well.

The three men hurried along to the narrow street on the edge of the city where Sophia’s cottage was. Garrick knocked on the door.

Chanse elbowed him in the ribs. “Smile.”

“What?” Garrick asked, confused by his request.

“You look as if someone died. You’re going to scare the hell out of her.”

Garrick managed to change his expression as the door opened to reveal Sophia. Relief nearly dropped him to his knees. No matter he’d been certain she was fine. Seeing so was completely different.

“Good even,” Chanse greeted her when Garrick couldn’t manage to speak.

“And to you.” Sophia looked at each of them, a frown marring her brow. “Is something amiss?”

“Nay, nothing of the sort,” Braden answered. “We only wanted to make certain all of you returned home safely.”

Her eyes narrowed at his words.

At last Garrick found his tongue. “All is well, my lady?”

“Aye.” She glanced behind her as another woman came to stand nearby.

“Who is this?” the woman demanded.

She was dark haired and slightly shorter than Sophia. Her frame was thin and shadows marked her eyes.

With obvious reluctance, Sophia introduced them to her brother’s wife, Lady Eleanor.

“What do you want?” the woman asked, a combination of fear and belligerence on her face.

“We merely wanted to make certain everyone was home safely for the night,” Braden responded with a smile.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Eleanor’s tone was almost accusatory.

“No reason.” Garrick knew he shouldn’t have indulged in his need to see Sophia but couldn’t help it. He wanted to draw her into his arms to reassure himself that she was unhurt. He could only imagine what reaction Eleanor would have to such a gesture. “My apologies for interrupting your evening.”

A young man opened the door wider, his curious gaze taking in the three of them.

“You must be Alec,” Garrick said impulsively. “Your sister has told me about you.” His words brought another glare from Lady Eleanor. Sophia had her hands full with her brother’s wife. Nothing seemed to please her.

“I am.” He stared at the three men, his interested gaze catching on the swords strapped to their sides. “Would you care to come in?”

One glance at the uncomfortable look on Sophia’s face was enough to have Garrick refusing the offer. “We must be going. We were passing by and wanted to make sure all was well.” He knew his excuse was feeble, but he didn’t want to tell Sophia or her family of the threat on her life.

Not when he couldn’t explain how he knew. Nor did he want her to spend a sleepless night, worrying. She spent enough of her days doing so.

“May I request your assistance in the morn?” he asked her, ignoring the glare Lady Eleanor cast him.

“Certainly.” Her face flushed at his request.

“I will come by soon after the dawn bells sound.” He had no intention of allowing her to venture anywhere on her own over the next few days. Not until he’d thwarted the threat on her life.

“Very well. I will see you then.”

He could see the question in her eyes, but he held his tongue. Nothing he said now could answer them.

They bid the family good night and returned along the darkening streets to the inn.

“How are we going to find out who’s behind the threat?” Chanse asked.

“’Tis impossible to hope we’d overhear a plan such as that,” Braden said.

“Our only choice is for one of us to be with her as much as possible.” No other option came to Garrick.

“I don’t think she’ll appreciate that,” Chanse said as he opened the door to the inn.

Garrick didn’t care how she felt about it. He had no intention of leaving her alone unless she was safely tucked in her cottage.

“Perhaps we should share this information with her brother and sister as well,” Garrick suggested as a plan began to form in his mind. “They could prove quite useful in our efforts to keep Sophia safe.”

“Unless someone is attempting to eliminate the entire family,” Braden said in a low voice. “Wouldn’t that make more sense? Why focus only on Lady Sophia?”

“That does seem more likely,” Chanse agreed. “Why now? Has she angered someone of late to warrant such an attack?”

Garrick closed his eyes as he tried to remember the scene more clearly. “There’s something about the way the knife was being held.” Something nudged at the back of his mind. “As though the person wasn’t used to holding such a weapon. Or at the least, not formally trained to do so.”

“So the threat is more likely from a villager or a merchant instead of a knight or soldier?” Braden shook his head. “That doesn’t narrow our search much.”

“Shall I visit with the man who sells knives on the morrow?” Chanse offered. “Perhaps someone has recently made a purchase that he might share.”

“That’s a sound notion,” Garrick said. “The knife is a dagger with a narrow blade.” He held up his hands to show how long. “From what little I could see, the handle is dark, nearly black.”

“That’s not much to go on, but perhaps fate will aid us with our inquiry.”

Garrick nodded, reviewing the scene again in his mind, trying to determine if he’d missed anything. Christ, but he hoped not. Sophia’s life depended on it.