“Besides, I’m not going to need you to keep me from falling.” As he said it, he rose to his feet, bracing himself with one hand against the small table. He drew a deep breath as she reached his side to put an arm around his waist.
The thin linen tunic he wore still held his warmth. She tried to ignore it as she walked with him to the door. His fresh, clean scent tugged at her senses.
Both she and Garrick had indulged in baths the previous day. Hilda collected rainwater in large barrels and, with Chanse’s help, Sophia had heated water over the fire while he’d poured some in a tub. Sophia could still smell the hint of rosemary that Hilda added to her soap along with Garrick’s own musky scent.
The man was recovering from life-threatening injuries and all she could think about was how good he smelled. She forced her thoughts back to the task at hand. “Going outside, are we?”
Garrick nodded, his arm around her, as they moved through the door.
The day was a fine one. The air held a warmth that had been distinctly lacking in the previous days. He paused to look around and Sophia did the same. The cottage’s location tucked amidst the edge of the trees provided an excellent view. Mists clung to the river bed and the valleys of the rolling hills. Low clouds masked the city, making it easy to ignore the danger it held.
“Beautiful day,” Sophia murmured. For a long moment, they stood there together. ’Twas as if the world had stopped, allowing her to forget what troubles awaited them. Surely they could take this day and enjoy it to its fullest.
She looked up at Garrick, wondering what he was thinking as he stared out across the landscape.
He shifted and his blue eyes met hers as he took hold of her hand. “Sophia, you have been such a gift to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you to aid me.”
Her face heated with delight at his words. “You would’ve made do. But it’s been my pleasure to help. Truly.”
He sighed heavily, the worry in his eyes evident. “I fear I have not been completely honest with you.”
“Oh?” Her chest tightened. “How so?”
“I did not come to Berwick for our wool.” His jaw clenched as though he was reluctant to continue.
She waited, fear sending her heart pounding. “Then why?”
“To uncover rumors of rebellion. To find out who is behind the unrest here.”
She tried to step away, her mind reeling. But he wouldn’t allow it. “All this time, you were lying?”
“Aye. Nay,” he quickly corrected. “Both, I suppose. But please know that my concern has always been for the people here, including you. You deserve peace. Those who are attempting to stir trouble will only cause more deaths.”
She considered his words and knew them to be true. Yet she couldn’t put her hurt aside. “Was it only chance that you sought me out, or was my family among the primary suspects?”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Your family was mentioned. But the first day I saw you in the market, I knew I had to speak with you, and it had nothing to do with my mission.”
“And are we still among the suspects?”
“I eliminated you from the possibilities well before our first kiss.” He cupped her face. “I can’t apologize enough for keeping this from you. But you had already been through so much. I didn’t want to add to your burden in any way. Please believe me.”
The tightness in her chest eased. Hadn’t she always suspected that he was here for something more than just wool? Then awareness dawned. “That is why Thomas attacked you? He found out about your mission?”
“Enough to suspect me, I suppose. The other man who died, the one found in the river with his throat slit, was my contact. I overheard Thomas speaking with someone about it.”
As Sophia listened to him recount what he’d heard on the eve before he’d planned to leave Berwick, she ran a finger along his throat, grateful he hadn’t met the same fate as the other man.
“Despite your deception, I know your intentions were in the right place.” She held his gaze for a long moment. “I understand. And I trust you, Garrick.” While that was true, she was well aware that he’d nearly made the ultimate sacrifice. She had no intention of putting him in such danger again.
“The coming days will be a challenge as we try to determine how to unravel the people involved.”
She nodded. But for as long as she could remember that had been the case. This was merely a different kind of challenge.
“Perhaps you should return home this day. The less you’re associated with me, the better. ’Tis far too dangerous.”
She understood the logic of his suggestion, but that didn’t mean she agreed. Though she knew Garrick was anxious to return to Berwick now that he was feeling better, her heart hurt at the thought. She wanted one more day with him in this secluded place. The trials ahead could wait another day or two. After all, he needed more time to heal.
He eased closer, wrapping both arms around her. She held him gingerly, not wanting to hurt his ribs though he didn’t even wince when he moved anymore. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and her stomach dipped in response.
Oh, dear heavens. She admitted to herself what she’d tried to push away for so long now. She loved this man. She loved him so much it hurt.
How could she have come to love an English knight after all they’d done to her family? Her city? Yet this man was no ordinary English knight. He was Garrick de Bremont first. A man of honor, kindness, and strength. The sort of man who had once filled Sophia’s girlish dreams. Until she’d realized no such man existed. Garrick had proved her wrong.
The knowledge that he cared for her warmed her from the inside out. The morrow would be soon enough to determine how to resolve the problems they’d encountered.
“Garrick?” she whispered.
“Aye?”
“May I ask a favor?”
He drew back to look at her, his brow creased with concern at the seriousness of her tone. “Of course. Anything that is in my power to grant.”
“May we have this day? This one day to spend together before we return to Berwick and all that awaits us there?”
He smiled. “We are of one mind. That would be a gift I would cherish.”
Hilda had told Sophia she would be gone for several days as she was helping the woman who’d just had a babe. The mother had a difficult birth, and Hilda had wanted to keep a careful watch over her. Sophia was grateful for her absence now that Garrick was better.
The morn passed slowly, easily, as she and Garrick took short walks with Garrick resting in between. His recovery was truly remarkable. He made significant progress between the time they broke their fast and when they were ready to sit down for the midday meal. She’d never seen anything like it and was quite puzzled.
“Ever since Braden came to visit, you have been recovering more quickly than anyone I’ve known.”
Garrick seemed to look at anywhere but her. “Amazing, isn’t it? I’m very grateful. It must not have been as severe as I originally thought.”
She watched him as he took a seat on the bench at the table. He didn’t even wince. It was the oddest thing she’d ever witnessed for a man with broken ribs.
He caught her staring at him and smiled. “I’m famished.”
His comment brought her out of her thoughts. “Oh, of course. Chanse brought smoked fish when he came. There’s still bread and cheese.” She laid out the simple fare on the table.
As they ate, their conversation ranged from each of their families, to his home in England, to Thomas’s attack.
“Someone else must be behind Thomas’s actions. But who?” Garrick asked.
Sophia didn’t want to say who she thought it was. Not until she’d spoken with that person. Until she had some sort of proof. If she was right, she didn’t think she was in danger. Though she hated to keep secrets from Garrick, she felt it was necessary. She was relieved when he didn’t seem to expect a response to his question.
After they ate, Garrick steppe
d outside again, this time with his sword that Chanse had brought from the inn. Sophia couldn’t help but watch as he hefted it to and fro, thrusting and slashing. His movements were stilted, and he rested several times before swinging the heavy weapon once again. But each pass seemed stronger and surer than the last.
When he came back inside, he rested for a time, insisting Sophia lay by his side. He held her tight against him, and she relished the feeling.
She must’ve fallen asleep briefly, for she woke to gentle kisses on her forehead followed by a nuzzle in her ear that sent shivers coursing through her. Her body heated as Garrick continued those sweet kisses.
“Sophia?” He whispered her name reverently, as if it mattered. As if she mattered.
“Aye?”
“I have grown to care for you more than I can say.” He eased back, and the heat and intensity in those blue eyes had her catching her breath.
“As have I,” she whispered, not wanting to break this spell.
“I had thought I could contain myself with you by my side, but I fear I was wrong.” There was no mistaking the desire etched in his expression.
Passion was a long, slow roll in her belly. A longing so deep that it had her curling her toes. He rose on his elbow to lean over and touch his lips to hers. The heat of his mouth was welcome and oh so delicious. He kissed her thoroughly as his hand wandered the length of her body, lingering at her waist.
She placed a hand along his cheek, loving the feel of his whiskers beneath her fingers. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she opened her mouth, eager to deepen the kiss.
His groan sent her insides quivering. The idea that he enjoyed this as much as she made her bolder. She shifted, easing closer, loving the feel of him against her. His hand squeezed her hip, then moved to press her bottom, massaging there. His movements pressed her against him again and again. The feel of his hardness made her long for more. He felt so good. She tilted her hips to better fit against him.
His hand moved, this time rising up along her body to rest just below her breast. His thumb drew small circles closer and closer to the tip of her breast. She moaned beneath his lips, desperately wanting to feel his hand on her. At last he complied. His fingers cupped, squeezed, and caressed her breast until her whole body swayed with the motion.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, wanting to be closer. The softness of the dark strands was lovely but she continued her exploration, moving down to the breadth of his shoulders, the corded muscles obvious beneath the soft linen of his tunic. His strength made her feel weak. Wanting to give him some of the pleasure he gave her, she caressed his chest, her fingers finding the hard pebble of his nipple.
When he groaned in response, delight filled her, and she repeated the movement with the same results.
“Sophia.” Her name on his lips was part moan, part demand.
A demand for what she wasn’t quite sure. She only knew she didn’t want this sweet torture to end. He felt so good against her, so right. The rest of the world fell away as they held each other.
His hand wandered along her body, and she arched with pleasure. Heat pooled low in her belly, bringing an unfamiliar ache with it. He touched her hip through the fabric of her kirtle then feathered against the juncture of her thighs. The heat spread with every movement of his fingers.
“I want to touch you, Sophia. Will you let me?” he whispered, his lips moving against her ear.
“Aye. Please.” Though she knew this was supposed to be wrong, it only felt right. Garrick felt right. She wanted more.
He reached down to ease her kirtle up along with the thin chemise she wore under it. The feel of his fingers on her bare legs had her gasping. The coolness of the air mixed with the heat of his hands until she writhed with the desire building deep inside her.
“So soft. You feel so good.” His hand continued to rise until it rested on her hip. His fingers swirled along her heated flesh, drawing ever closer to her center.
The foreign sensation should’ve shocked her, but pleasure outweighed surprise. Her body ached for his touch, and she could only shift her hips, hoping he wouldn’t stop. Not when she needed him so.
His fingers brushed the curls between her thighs, and she caught her breath.
“Will you open for me, Sophia? Will you let me touch you?”
Slowly, uncertain exactly what he meant, she eased to her back, parting her thighs.
“Aye,” he encouraged as he pressed kisses along her neck, just below her ear. “A little more now.”
Her body throbbed right near his fingers. She had no choice but to allow him in. In that moment, she’d do anything he asked. Anything to ease the aching of her body.
His finger lowered slowly, causing her hips to buck. The dampness between her thighs shocked and embarrassed her, but his groan had her wanting more.
“Sweet. So sweet,” he whispered. His voice, his lips, his touch, all swirled together into one delicious sensation until she felt only him.
Her hand brushed against the front of his body still covered by his chausses and felt the hardness there. She squeezed him, amazed at how taut he was. His hips pushed against her hand, and she held him tight as he moved.
His fingers continued their dance along her center, parting the folds there, making her feel things she hadn’t known were possible. She marveled that he knew her body better than she. His movements took up a rhythm, and she was helpless with the feelings washing through her. Her body responded, her hips taking up that same rhythm, even as her hand continued to hold his manhood.
Her breath came in gasps as pressure built deep inside her. She whimpered, unsure what was happening, only knowing she couldn’t stop.
“Oh, sweet Sophia. Let go, my darling. I’ve got you. Let go.” The whispered assurances in her ear were all she needed.
She writhed as that pressure took over, exploding, shattering until her body shook with it. Garrick’s hips rocked against her hand, and he drew her even closer, holding tight. She’d never felt more free or more safe as she did there in his arms as she flew.
At last she sank back to earth, secure in Garrick’s arms. Sophia realized Garrick could’ve taken her body with his. She would’ve been eager for that union. Instead, he’d given her the pleasure he could without taking her virginity and possibly leaving her with a babe. That he’d protect her despite the heat of the moment warmed her heart.
“Are you well?” he asked.
She couldn’t help but smile. “I am. Are you?”
He sighed and nuzzled her ear. “I am. You are truly a gift, Sophia.”
Her face heated with embarrassment. She wasn’t sure what to say. Then she realized she didn’t need to say anything. The silence they shared was warm and soft, cradling them both.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Garrick woke the next morn to find Sophia still tucked in his embrace. He watched as she slept, loving the curve of her brow, the sweep of her lashes, the smoothness of her skin. Her long, dark hair fanned across the bolster. He gently touched the soft strands.
Though passion pulled at him, he resisted. This amazing woman might be in his arms, but she wasn’t his. Not truly. He feared she never would be.
Perhaps when events were resolved, they might have the chance of a future. But even then, he couldn’t see how anymore than he could bring forth a vision. She was securely tied to Berwick. Her family was here, and they needed her. There was no place for him in the city other than an occasional visit to oversee his family’s wool trade.
Where did that leave them?
Far apart. His heart ached at the thought. Yet how could he not tell her how he felt? He knew she cared for him. Was there a chance she’d had enough of the city and the terrible things that life here had given her? Nay, her sense of duty to the people of Berwick ran far too deep.
Perhaps they should simply enjoy what little time they had together and not concern themselves for what might happen on the morrow. He could pray it would be enough to comfort h
im in the days and months ahead, and that the future would be kinder to them than the present.
That idea caused his heart to squeeze painfully. Yet it was difficult to think of anything further ahead than the coming sennight.
Before he could consider what the future held, he needed to piece together all the information he’d learned to solve some of the problems he’d uncovered. Now that he was feeling better, he wanted—nay, needed—to move forward. To find out who’d ordered Iagan’s death as well as the attempt on Sophia’s life and his own.
He’d start with Thomas. But how could he learn what the butcher was up to without revealing he yet lived? Not for the first time, he longed for his second sight. He couldn’t help but worry if he’d lost it permanently. Had the blow to his head taken his gift? He grimaced as he remembered how he’d longed to be normal at the beginning of this journey so he might prove to himself that he was capable and worthy.
How naïve of him. He’d had a vision—one that had showed water engulfing him, yet what good had it done? None. He was far from capable even with his gift of second sight.
He wouldn’t soon forget the helpless feeling of Thomas and his companions beating him senseless. Nor would he forget the cold river closing over him. Or the temptation to allow his will to live slide away in the currents.
While grateful Thomas hadn’t used his knife to finish him as he had Iagan, he couldn’t help but wonder why. Garrick could only surmise the man hadn’t wanted Garrick’s body to match Iagan’s. That slit to his throat had obviously been done by someone who knew how to wield a knife and pointed squarely at Thomas.
Sophia stirred in his arms as the light of dawn penetrated the wooden shutters of the cottage. She planned to return to her family later this day. Braden would continue to keep watch over them while Chanse returned here to collect Garrick.
Then what?
Garrick didn’t know. He wasn’t certain how to proceed. Nor did he know if he was yet strong enough to take action or defend himself should the need arise.
“What is it?” Sophia whispered, her worried gaze finding his in the dim light.
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