“Sir Garrick,” she greeted him with a nod. “I wasn’t certain I’d find you here.”
“The weather has kept many inside. What brings you out?”
She pulled back the hood of her cloak. Damp tendrils of her hair curled around her face. “I may have someone interested in your wool.”
“Excellent.” Garrick’s spirits lifted. “Who?” But the suspicion in her expression had him frowning in concern.
“Before I say anything more, I need to know why an English knight came all the way to Berwick to sell wool.”
He stilled as a shiver of unease ran down his spine. How could she know their purpose here was far more than a contract for wool?
CHAPTER FIVE
Sophia watched the knight closely for a reaction. She had no reason to trust Sir Garrick and couldn’t allow her eagerness to gain Edgar’s help lower her guard.
Other than a moment’s hesitation, she saw nothing in his expression.
“My father, Lord Nicholas de Bremont, is the one interested in finding a buyer. He didn’t come himself as he is busy preparing for a visit from his liege lord. Our steward has seen far too many years to journey this far. My holding borders my father’s and while I have only a small flock of sheep, together, along with my uncle, we have a significant number. The merchants in London are being taxed by the king and so the price they offered was far too low this year.”
She held her silence for a moment to see if he revealed anything more.
He raised a brow. “What else may I answer to put your mind at ease?”
“What of your shearing sheds?” She waited, hoping the question made more sense to him than it had to her.
“We installed floor boards in the sheds two springs ago.”
“Why?”
He frowned. “To keep the wool as clean as possible and free of bugs, though I know few lords have gone to the expense of doing so. Are you testing my knowledge of wool?”
Hope sprang forth as Sophia realized Sir Garrick might be just the resource she needed to offer Edgar value. If he would be so kind as to share some of his knowledge with her.
Yet even as she opened her mouth to request his assistance, she stopped. Trust was nothing to be given lightly. She needed to move forward with caution. Her brother’s freedom depended on it.
“What makes English wool more desirable?” she asked.
“’Tis finer with longer fibers than the sheep near the Scottish border.” He smiled down at her, causing her heartbeat to quicken. “Did I answer properly? Will you tell me with whom I should speak?”
“Soon. First, I have a few more questions.”
“’Twould be my pleasure to answer them. After all, it means spending more time with you.” The heat in his gaze set loose flutters in her stomach.
She didn’t pretend to understand the affect this man had on her as it wasn’t anything she’d ever experienced. She glanced about the square to see if anyone watched them, uneasy at the thought.
Thanks to the weather, few people were near, but Sophia could sense the weight of eyes on them. “Let us not do so here. I need to venture to St. Mary’s, but ’tis a fair distance away. You’ll be soaked through by the time we reach it.”
“I’d be honored to accompany you, my lady, as well as answer any other questions you might have.”
“Very well.” She drew up her hood. Though the wool was already damp, it offered some protection from the rain as well as from him. His steady regard made it difficult to remember her purpose. “Shall we?”
At his nod, she walked across the square, leaving him to follow. Once they reached the cobbled thoroughfare, he walked by her side. He also wore a cloak but made no effort to cover his head. In truth, she was pleased as he was a pleasure to look at despite being wet. The rain clung to his lashes and caused his hair to curl about his neck, making him all the more attractive.
She shook her head, berating herself. She needed to focus on learning more about wool, not on Sir Garrick’s appearance. “When do you shear your sheep?”
“Mid-June. The ewes are nearly finished lambing now. The babes will stay with their mothers for several months before they’ll be weaned.”
“I confess I don’t know much about sheep.” There was no purpose in attempting to hide that, for he’d soon realize it for himself.
“No reason you would. I’ve learned much in the past few years as we’ve grown our flock. We were hesitant to make raising sheep a priority. They are only worth one or two shillings whereas a pig is worth two and a half, but as sheep produce not only fleece, but meat, milk, manure, and skins—”
“Skins?” Sophia asked.
“Their hides make durable writing material.”
“Of course.” She’d forgotten that.
“So sheep produce a variety of products. The choice to grow winter feed in our meadows rather than grain was a hotly debated subject. But the demand for wool now exceeds the demand for grain as well as other products such as meat and leather. The challenge lies in keeping a healthy flock. Sheep are fragile creatures.”
“In what way?”
“They often catch sheep pox, Red Death, or murrain.”
Murrain was the term Edgar had mentioned. Her conversation with the merchant now made more sense.
“Despite that, they’re easy to handle and feed, and they produce fleece each year.” Garrick stole another glance at Lady Sophia, wondering if he’d calmed her worries as to his presence in Berwick. Or was he simply boring her with all this talk of wool?
He scolded himself. Of course he was boring her. He could already hear Chanse telling him the topic of sheep was anything but charming. It shouldn’t matter whether she was interested in what he had to say, but somehow it did.
She glanced up at the cloud-filled sky, the elegant line of her jaw catching his eye. Aye, it mattered a great deal.
He held his silence as they passed through the gate, the guard giving them a nod. The rain stopped as they followed the road toward the nunnery.
“May I ask why you’re venturing to the nunnery?” Garrick asked.
“I have some seeds to deliver to my sister, Ilisa, who is working there.”
“Is she taking her vows?”
A pucker formed between Sophia’s brows. Obviously the question caused her concern. “I’m not certain if that is her intention. For now, she aids them with the garden and other work. They provide us with food in exchange for her assistance.”
Garrick was surprised. Though it was obvious the Douglas family’s place in the city had significantly changed since the siege, it hadn’t occurred to him that they now needed to work for food and shelter. With her older brother gone, that left Sophia as the head of her family, a great responsibility. One she obviously didn’t take lightly.
“I’ve heard some of what happened two years ago,” Garrick said. “I understand your brother, Sir William, is being held at a keep south of here. Are you able to correspond with him?”
“Rarely. ’Tis been months since his last letter to us. We heard from a friend who saw him briefly. He told us William was as well as could be expected, but he had no other news.”
“Is his wife with him?” Garrick asked.
“Nay. Lady Eleanor remains here with us. Their son was taken to begin his training as a page in England, despite his mother’s wishes.”
“Is it just her with you and your sister?”
“And my younger brother, Alec.”
“The siege must’ve been a frightening time. I’m sorry you had to endure such a terrible event.”
“Many people in the city lost everything. Those who died outnumbered those who survived. I fear Berwick will never be the same.”
“What of you, Lady Sophia? How have you fared with all the changes?” He wanted to ask more questions but knew they wouldn’t be welcome.
“I am luckier than many, though I will say it hasn’t been easy.” She paused for a long moment, and he feared that was all she intended to say. “Many b
lame my brother for not allowing the garrison to defend the city. Since he is no longer here, they blame us.”
“Surely ordering his knights and soldiers to fight would have only further angered King Edward. His temper is well known.”
She looked up at him. “Have you ever fought with him?”
“Nay. My brother has, but not in Scotland. Do you believe your brother will eventually be released and reinstated as governor?”
“I pray for his release each day. But nay. I do not want him to serve as governor again. Not after all that passed.”
Garrick didn’t blame her. That would surely put them all in danger once more.
His pace slowed as a familiar fog clouded his mind. Now was not the time for a vision, but he had no choice. That was the worst part of having second sight. He never knew when a vision would come, who he might be with, or what he might be doing. He’d fallen from his horse once when one had come upon him. He’d learned to brace himself when the warning signs appeared.
But here, in the middle of this road with Sophia at his side, there was nothing he could do. He halted, putting a hand over his eyes as though his head hurt, hoping his expression did not reveal anything.
The sounds around him dimmed as the image in his mind formed. Sophia stood before a man much older than she, obviously a lord by his fine clothing. He rebuked Sophia from what Garrick could tell. Sophia kept her head bent, saying nothing as the man gestured with abrupt arm movements. The flash of a knife in the man’s hand was the last thing Garrick saw as the vision faded.
“Sir Garrick?” Sophia’s voice came to him as though from a long distance away. “Are you unwell?”
He kept his hand over his eyes as he drew a long, deep breath to clear his mind. “I’m fine. A sudden pain in my head is all.”
When the vision had cleared completely, he removed his hand and opened his eyes to find her staring up at him with concern in those dark eyes.
“You’ve gone pale,” she said. “Do you want to sit down?”
“Nay. I am well. Truly.” His thoughts whirled at the idea of Sophia in danger. He had no idea who the man was and hadn’t seen him clearly enough to believe he’d recognize him if he saw him again. Mayhap it was her brother. Nay, the man had appeared older than Sir William would be. With a sigh of frustration, he pushed away the images he’d seen to ponder later.
“I’m sorry for causing you worry. Let us proceed.” He gestured toward the nunnery.
Though Sophia cast him a few worried glances, they continued down the road.
“Tell me of your family. Do you have brothers and sisters?”
He was grateful for the change in subject. “I have an older brother, Rylan, who recently married, and a younger sister, who caused my childhood to be quite painful at times.”
Sophia smiled at his exaggerated tone, making him realize how rarely she did so. “Oh? How so?”
He shook his head. “’Tis a long and sad story.”
“You are surely jesting. What would she say if I asked her about this?”
“I fear she would say I had done so to her,” he said with a laugh. “Rylan attempted to bring order to our lives, but he was unsuccessful.”
“William would say the same of us, I believe. He was always so serious and intent on following Father’s path. He was born with a sense of duty. The rest of us grew into it grudgingly.”
“You must miss him.” Garrick studied her expression, looking for the resentment she had to feel at being left in such difficult circumstances, suddenly responsible for taking care of her family, but he saw only sadness.
“Very much. There are many things that have occurred where I’m not certain how to proceed.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I fear I do not have the patience or diplomacy for political intrigue yet this city seems to swim in it.”
“These are troubled times,” Garrick offered, hoping she’d say more. “Berwick’s location puts it in a precarious position.”
“The border has shifted several times, but I don’t believe changing the line on a map changes the people.”
“I understand more Englishmen have moved here since the siege.”
“Aye. I suppose they feel safer since the king defeated Berwick so soundly. They think no one will suggest a rebellion after what happened.”
“What do you believe?” Garrick asked.
“The Scots are a proud people. Berwick was not at fault for the king’s anger, but we were the closest target for his rage.”
“Is there talk of revenge?” Garrick pressed, holding his breath as he waited for her answer.
“Certainly. But just as many want peace. And a few others believe all the English should leave and never return.” She answered easily as though she’d given it a great deal of thought. Or was it because she had a practiced answer at the ready?
“And all of those people live side by side in the city. How could there not be conflict?”
“It makes for interesting conversations.”
He was well aware she hadn’t truly answered his question but neatly sidestepped it. She had more political diplomacy than she realized. He decided it best to let it go for now until she’d grown to trust him. He could only hope she would.
“How large is the nunnery?” Garrick asked as they neared St. Mary’s, which sat just north of the city.
“One and twenty sisters along with Prioress Matilda reside here. The cloister has a church, of course, along with a chapter house, refectory, and a kitchen.”
Sophia proceeded through an iron gate and continued along a path that skirted the buildings and led the way to the large gardens.
Many women in black robes were there, some working, some talking. Garrick felt strangely out of place when he realized he was the only man in sight.
Sophia called out greetings to several of the sisters. The weight of their stares made Garrick a little nervous as he followed her around the edge of the garden.
A young, attractive woman straightened from where she’d been marking rows with sticks, and Garrick realized immediately this must be Sophia’s sister. They shared many similarities, including their large eyes and even features, though Sophia had dark hair while her sister was blond.
“Greetings, Ilisa. Here are the seeds you wanted. Jacques gave them to me this morn.” She withdrew a small cloth sack from the purse hanging from her girdle and handed it to her.
“Excellent. The sisters will be pleased.” Her blue gaze came to rest on Garrick, the wariness in them no surprise.
“Ilisa, this is Sir Garrick de Bremont. He’s traveled from England to Berwick to find a buyer for his wool.”
“Welcome, Sir Garrick.” Lady Ilisa studied him closely. Whether that was because he accompanied her sister or because he was English, he didn’t know.
“My thanks. Berwick is a fine city.”
“How long will you be staying?”
“At least a fortnight. Mayhap longer. In truth, I’ve never been this far north. I’m enjoying learning more about the area.”
The bitter twist of Lady Ilisa’s mouth made him realize she was thinking of Berwick’s troubled past.
“Will you be venturing farther into Scotland after your time here?” she asked.
“I suppose it depends on whether I can find a buyer for our wool.”
“Don’t you have duties that require your presence at home?”
“Ilisa.” Sophia’s reprimand only made Garrick smile as it reminded him of his own siblings. He couldn’t blame Lady Ilisa for her curiosity, or perhaps it was concern for her sister.
“My current priority is our wool, and Berwick seems the best place to find a buyer.”
“Not London?”
“The merchants there refuse to be reasonable with their prices. That leaves us no choice but to search for someone who is.”
The sisters shared a look that left Garrick wondering what silent message they were communicating.
“Is the rain welcome or a hindrance?” Garrick asked, ready to m
ove the conversation to a topic that didn’t involve him.
“Welcome for the most part.” Lady Ilisa glanced up at the sky, studying the clouds. “Though if it continues it won’t be.”
“Will you be home before dusk?” Sophia asked.
“Aye, I will leave well before the gates to the city close.”
“We’ll leave you to your work then. Don’t get chilled.”
Garrick bid Lady Ilisa good day. She hadn’t smiled once the whole time he’d spoken with her.
Both the sisters were in need of some lightness in their lives. Circumstances had not been kind to them of late. Unfortunately, his presence might only complicate matters for them, regardless of which side they were on.
CHAPTER SIX
“Do you know what he looks like?” Braden asked as he sat with Garrick and Chanse in the tavern later that evening.
They were to meet the man to whom Garrick would pass information. If he ever discovered anything worth sharing.
“I’ve no idea,” Garrick said.
“We’re simply going to hope you realize who he is?” Chanse frowned as he lifted his ale to drink.
“He has a description of me. When I see someone who might be him, I’m to make a certain gesture and see if he responds.”
“It would’ve been easier if you had a vision of him,” Braden mumbled.
Garrick shook his head. “I wish I could will a vision to come forth.” How often had he longed for some sort of control of his second sight over the years? Too many times to count.
“We’ve been here for some time. Perhaps he’s already come and gone,” Chanse suggested.
“Then I will meet him another day.” Garrick scowled, not liking the situation anymore than his cousins did. Yet what choice did he have? Without the contact, this mission would be a failure before it began. “While we’re waiting, I think it’s time to form a plan of our own.”
“Good idea.” Braden held his gaze. “What do you have in mind?”
“Mayhap we should split our efforts now that we’re familiar with the city,” Garrick suggested, his voice lowered.
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