Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Lana Williams

  As for Iagan, few knew him, which had been an advantage until now. The inquiries Garrick had made had been less than effective. Braden had asked the stable master about him, and Chanse had asked the blacksmith. While many had heard of the body found in the river, none had claimed to know him. With no trail to follow, what more could he do?

  Continuing his mission of gathering information on rebellion without anyone to pass it to was pointless. The best option was to return home to share what he’d learned with his brother, Rylan, as well as the lord who’d assigned this mission.

  Garrick stopped mid-step. Why did it feel so wrong to leave? He’d discussed it at length with Chanse and Braden. They agreed they should return home, find some way to set up a new contact, then return to Berwick under the pretense of overseeing the wool delivery. All of that seemed logical. But why didn’t it feel right?

  He wished his second sight would show him the path to take but nothing came forth. Anything would be an improvement over the terrible one he’d had earlier. He could only remain on guard—and stay away from water. He’d decided against telling Braden and Chanse of it. Only one of the visions he’d had on this trip had come to pass. Perhaps the one of him drowning would not occur.

  Christ, but he hoped not.

  Added to all this was Sophia. The lovely, desirable woman who was not for him. He had no business forming any affection for her. After all, she was a Scot and he was English. They were natural enemies. Not to mention that her loyalty to this city ran bone deep. His was firmly on the other side of the border. Their differences were many. He couldn’t imagine her leaving with him anymore than him staying.

  Yet the thought of her made his heart speed its beat. He felt different when he was with her. She brought out the best in him. Added to that was her intelligence, trustworthiness, beauty...

  And he wanted her so badly he ached.

  He had no choice but to set all that aside. Glancing more closely about the dark, quiet street, he searched for something else to think on before his chausses grew any tighter. He could hardly meet his cousins at the inn when both his body and his emotions were so stirred.

  A motion on the opposite side of the street had him frowning at the shadows. A man hurried by in the darkness, his movement furtive as he ran from shadow to shadow, his footsteps far too quiet on the cobbled street to be natural. Garrick followed, curious as to what the man could be doing. He paused to listen, hidden by the darkness cast over him by the second story overhang of the building he stood under.

  “This is a hell of a meetin’ place.” The low voice came from around the street corner just ahead.

  “I dinna decide our orders. I only follow ’em.” The distinct Scottish accent caught Garrick’s attention. It was unusual enough that he thought perhaps he’d heard it before.

  Both men were out of sight, allowing Garrick to ease forward to see if he could hear more of their conversation. There was no denying the clink of coins that sounded.

  “That’s yer share for the deed.”

  “’Tis not what ye promised.” The vehement tone filled the night air.

  “Quiet. He says the body was found too quick. That we should’ve been more careful.”

  “How was I to know ’twould wash up? I lashed rocks to his hands. The body shoulda stayed on the bottom for weeks, or at least long enough for it to become unrecognizable.”

  Garrick immediately thought of the marks on Iagan’s wrists.

  “He says ’tis causing him all kinds of problems to have so many askin’ questions. That’s why he’s not payin’ what he promised.”

  “Damn me.”

  Heart pounding, Garrick eased nearer. He owed it to Iagan to find the bastards who’d murdered him. If he could glimpse their faces and identify who they were, he could alert his cousins and the three of them could confront each man. But at the moment, he was alone and therefore risking his life.

  “He has another task for us. If we do this one right, he’ll pay us double what I gave ye.”

  “Another murder?”

  Garrick leaned forward, hoping to see their faces. Hoping they couldn’t see his.

  “Here now. What are you doin’?”

  Garrick stiffened as fear chased down his back. It took a moment to realize the speaker wasn’t addressing him.

  “None of yer business,” the man with the thick Scottish accent replied.

  “Of course, ’tis. Yer in front of my shop, aren’t ye? Go on with ye now. I can see yer up to no good.”

  ’Twas unlikely they’d reveal anything further in conversation now that they’d been interrupted. If only he could see who they were. Realizing this was his chance, Garrick drew a deep breath, composed his features and walked around the corner as nonchalantly as possible.

  The darkness hid one of the men. Garrick only caught an impression of a short, stout man with rounded shoulders and little hair. The other man faced the rushlight the shopkeeper held as he continued to sputter a denial. Trying to keep his glance casual so as not to draw attention, Garrick saw a man of medium height with shoulder-length hair, his prominent cheekbones and narrow nose making him memorable. But it was the hook-shaped scar at the corner of his mouth, running up his cheek that caught Garrick’s eye.

  Instead of entering the inn, which was just across the street within view, Garrick kept walking. If he had gained their notice, he’d prefer they didn’t know where to find him. He circled around a fair distance, the night growing darker as he walked, reviewing their conversation over and over. Though he listened closely, he didn’t think he was being followed. He resisted the urge to look back. He didn’t want to do anything that made him appear suspicious.

  At last he reached the inn again, breathing a sigh of relief at the welcoming light as he opened the door. His cousins were seated at their table, waiting for him.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Chanse asked, frowning.

  “We were about to start searching for you,” Braden added.

  “I don’t think we’re returning home on the morrow after all,” Garrick said as he took a seat and poured himself a cup of ale. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I believe I know who killed Iagan.”

  Braden leaned forward. “You had another vision?”

  Garrick glanced about to make certain no one could overhear their conversation. “Nay. On my way here I overhead two men speaking of how inconvenient it was for his body to wash up in the river so quickly.”

  Chanse and Braden shared a look. “Who were they?”

  “I don’t know their names, but I saw one of their faces. Locating him will be our task for the morrow.” Hope kindled inside Garrick. He would like nothing better than to seek justice for Iagan’s murder. Added to that was the knowledge that he would see Sophia again.

  Perhaps this mission would not be a failure after all.

  ~*~

  Sophia felt fragile, as though one wrong move might break her. Saying goodbye to Garrick the previous day had been even more difficult than she’d imagined. Still, she knew how important it was to keep moving, to pretend all was well and maintain her daily activities despite her desire to curl up on her pallet and let life continue on without her, at least for a day or two, until the heaviness in her heart passed.

  Avoiding a conversation with Eleanor this morn was one of the reasons she forced herself to rise and get on with her day. Now, she and Coira made their way toward the baker’s. The church bells had rung some time ago, and the street bustled with activity.

  She’d warned herself that Garrick would soon leave, hadn’t she? But the pleasure of their time together had outweighed the danger to her emotional wellbeing. At least she hoped it would. Surely her memories of him would bring her comfort in the coming days.

  With a sigh, she realized that sounded hollow and felt even more so.

  “Didn’t you want to stop at the baker’s?” Coira asked.

  Sophia glanced around, realizing she’d walked right past the shop. The scent alone norm
ally had her mouth watering. This morn, she couldn’t even smell it. “Aye. Will you get what we need?” Sophia didn’t have the energy to bother.

  She knew she had to pull herself out of this despair soon. But surely she was allowed a day or two of self-pity. A day to remember the conversations and kisses they’d shared before she tried to put the handsome knight out of her mind. For now, she’d allow herself to grieve his absence.

  A glance at the overcast horizon told her the day was well underway. By now, Garrick and his cousins would be some distance from here. The thought made her heart squeeze. Would he truly return when his wool was delivered?

  No matter, she reminded herself. ’Twas good he’d left when he had. Any longer and he would’ve held her heart. Now it seemed he only had a piece of it.

  That didn’t stop her from longing for things that could not be. While she was grateful she’d met him, his departure hurt far more than she’d expected. She needed to keep busy, to stay focused on what needed to be done. But this morn, her heart was not ready to let go.

  “The baker offered us two loaves for a discounted price. I hope that is all right,” Coira said as she stepped out of the baker’s, the cloth bag she carried now bulging.

  “How kind of him.”

  As they continued on their way, Sophia tried to remember what else needed to be done, but her mind was empty.

  “Lady Sophia,” a voice hailed from down the street.

  She turned to see Thomas, the butcher, approaching. She did her best to avert her gaze from the hooked-shaped scar that started at the corner of his mouth and ran up his cheek. Though the rippled scar was terrible to look upon, the manner in which he’d gained it bothered her far more. An English knight had carved his face into a gruesome mask during the siege to make an example of him to the other residents of the city who refused to give up. The idea of a being tortured in such a fashion while his family had been forced to watch turned Sophia’s stomach.

  How horribly ironic that he made his living wielding a knife each day.

  “I trust this day finds you well, Thomas,” she said.

  “Indeed, my lady. I wanted to ask if young Alec had considered my offer of becoming my apprentice?”

  Sophia didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “In truth, he didn’t mention it, though I know he was interested in several options.”

  “He came by the shop a sennight ago and spent part of the day looking on. Said it might appeal to him.”

  “I’ll tell him you inquired when I see him,” Sophia offered, though she did not want her brother to become a butcher. She appreciated that everyone needed meat, but the smells and sights that went along with the occupation required a stiffer constitution than she had. She couldn’t believe living with that daily would appeal to Alec.

  Thomas’s only son had married a lass in a nearby village and moved there to help her family tend the land. He had refused to pick up a knife and follow in his father’s footsteps after what he’d seen done to his father. No wonder Thomas searched for an apprentice.

  “My thanks, Lady Sophia. He’s a good lad. ’Twould be a pleasure to have him at my side.” Thomas bobbed his head and went on his way.

  Sophia continued down the street with Coira, determined to have a long talk with Alec as soon as possible. What could he be thinking? While she knew he had no desire to continue training for knighthood, she hoped he’d change his mind. At any rate, she was sure he wouldn’t be happy as a butcher.

  A glance up had her halting mid-step. The very man she’d been missing so terribly stood a short distance away, speaking with one of the shopkeepers. Her heart soared as she stared at him, even as she wondered why his departure had been delayed.

  “What is it, my lady?” Coira asked.

  “I thought Sir Garrick had left early this morn.” This glimpse of him made her realize even more how much she already cared for him.

  As though feeling the weight of her regard, he looked toward her, those blue eyes lighting with pleasure as he caught sight of her. She wondered why he hadn’t sought her out to tell her of his delay. Perhaps to avoid another painful goodbye.

  Or was it something else, she wondered, as doubt crept in.

  He waved to the man with whom he spoke then strode toward her. “Good morn to you, Lady Sophia.” He nodded to Coira. “Our departure has been delayed.”

  Sophia could tell from the way Garrick announced it so quietly that not all was well. With a gesture for Coira to proceed without her, she asked. “Has something gone amiss?”

  A shadow crossed Garrick’s face, confirming her question. Yet he only smiled and said, “Braden hasn’t finished all he needs to here, so we might remain several more days.”

  Sophia stared up at him, noting how his smile didn’t reach his eyes, how he glanced away. Hurt stole through her at his lie. Then she berated herself. What had she been thinking? How many times had she been shown that no one was who they seemed? Yet for some reason, she’d expected something different from Garrick.

  The hurt she felt tempered her pleasure at seeing him. She had thought he trusted her, that she knew him. But nay. He was not so different than others she’d encountered throughout her life. Everyone had a hidden agenda, and obviously Garrick was no exception. The thought saddened her far more than it should’ve.

  “I see,” she said at last. “I hope his business is complete soon. I know you are anxious to return home.”

  Those blue eyes held hers for so long she could feel her cheeks heating under his intense regard. He opened his mouth as though to speak but promptly closed it.

  “I’ll leave you to your discussions,” she said, too hurt to stay.

  Her heart felt as though someone was pulling her back and forth. This way and that. Which told her that her emotions were far more involved with this man than she’d thought. How many times had she warned herself that she’d be hurt by him? And she was. Deeply.

  “I would very much like to accompany you to your next stop.”

  “That’s not necessary.” She waved a hand in dismissal, but he merely caught it with his and held tight for a moment, the physical contact causing her to catch her breath.

  “Perhaps not, but there is nothing I would like more than to spend time with you.” His gaze held hers, the sincerity in his steady gaze easing her hurt. “My apologies that I didn’t have a chance to inform you that our plans changed. I wasn’t certain until a short time ago.”

  “I see.” She glanced up from under her lashes as she turned to walk along the street, wanting to believe him. What was wrong with her?

  Garrick swore under his breath as he realized he’d managed to both hurt Sophia and raise her suspicions. He’d intended to find her to tell her they hadn’t left, but he’d been trying to think of an excuse he could give. Though tempted, he couldn’t tell her the truth. Yet he truly wanted to. He believed he could trust her. In fact, he was sure of it. He’d trust her with his life.

  But the idea of burdening her with the purpose of his mission did not sit well. He had no desire to put her in the middle—between him and those he suspected of causing trouble. He knew she longed for peace for the people of this city, but being part of his mission to locate those stirring rebellion was another matter entirely. That hinted at betrayal, and he would never ask her to do that.

  Nay. He had no choice but to keep his true mission here hidden. He could only hope it didn’t jeopardize his relationship with her.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to ask for her help.

  “Do you know a man with a scar near his mouth in the shape of a hook?” he asked.

  “Thomas, the butcher? Aye, I do.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I saw him only a few moments ago. Why?”

  “Simply curious.” He offered her a smile but her responding frown told him he’d fallen short. He couldn’t bring himself to tell another lie, no matter that he had no ill intent. “I saw him last eve and wondered about that scar.”

  “He was injured in the sie
ge.”

  “Terrible.” It truly was, but not as terrible as what the man had done to Iagan.

  “He hasn’t been the same since.”

  “Nor has anyone else in this city,” he muttered. King Edward’s actions had caused so much damage to so many here. He wondered if the king knew or even cared. Had the siege served the purpose King Edward had wanted?

  Obviously not, else Garrick would have no mission.

  Sophia had led them to her cottage. Coira had already gone inside.

  Garrick wasn’t ready to let Sophia escape. He took her hands in his. “I’m grateful to have more time with you.” He held her gaze but she said nothing. With a sigh, he ran his thumbs over her knuckles, hoping she’d forgive him for not telling her more.

  Why did life have to be so damned complicated?

  He tried again, attempting to be as honest as he dared. “Sophia, I would ask that you have patience with me. My time here is...not what I expected, and I am still sorting out many matters.”

  “I don’t understand.” She frowned up at him but at least she had stopped trying to pull her hands from his.

  “Nor do I. I can only promise that as time passes, all will become clear.” At least he hoped so.

  “Are you in some sort of trouble?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. The memory of his vision pouring through him, the sensation of drowning causing him to draw a deep breath. His immediate response was to say yes. He felt as if he was in over his head, and not only because of the vision. That feeling amounted to the same as trouble in his opinion. Yet there was no immediate threat to him. At least not that he knew of. “No more than you and your family.”

  Her eyes widened. “You believe my family is still in danger?”

  “I don’t know, but because there was an attempt on your life already, we have to assume there could be another. The same could prove true for your family. I think we need to take great care over the coming days.”

  “How much longer will you stay?” The tiny note of hope in her voice pleased him.