Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Lana Williams

  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 him 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.

  “Nothing.”

  “Your body has tensed. Are you thinking of the days ahead?”

  “Aye,” he admitted reluctantly.

  When she placed a hand along his cheek, his heart squeezed. How could he think of leaving this city without her? Deep inside, he was certain that with Sophia, he had found a love most never experienced.

  He cleared his throat, nerves stealing his voice. “Sophia, when this is over. When we are certain your family is safe...”

  She tilted her head back to look at him.

  “Would you be my wife?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. He swore he saw delight in their depths even as her joy quickly shuttered. “Garrick, I care for you more than I can say.” She lowered her lashes, shielding her eyes from him. “But I can’t leave my family. My first duty is to them. And I don’t think it safe for you to remain in Berwick, even if that was what you desired.”

  “I have thought of all that. Truly I have. But I believe we are meant to be together. Somehow.”

  She looked up at him again, blinking rapidly. “We have something special between us, do we not? Yet fate is rarely kind. While it brought us together, it is also keeping us apart.”

  Even as he opened his mouth to protest, a knock sounded at the door. Garrick rose, reaching for his sword, cursing his inability to move quicker.

  “Garrick?” Braden’s voice called out, his tone urgent.

  “Aye. One moment.” He glanced back at Sophia, who was drawing her kirtle over her head.

  “Hurry,” Braden demanded.

  Garrick lifted the bar across the door and opened it, blinking at the brightness of the dawn sky after the dim interior of the cottage.

  Braden held his gaze for a moment before searching for Sophia. “I fear I bring terrible news. Sophia’s sister is missing.”

  “Ilisa?” Sophia asked, her eyes wide.

  “Aye. She told me she was staying at the nunnery last night. But when I went there at first light after the city gate opened, the stable lad said she left before dusk last eve and hasn’t returned.”

  Sophia’s worried gaze met Garrick’s. “Where would she go?”

  “Or who took her?” Garrick asked as he twined his fingers with hers, hoping to lend her his support.

  “The lad thought she left of her own accord. No one seems to know anymore at the moment. Chanse is with Alec at your cottage. I came here as soon as I told them.”

  Sophia released his hand to gather her things.

  “Where would she go, Sophia?” Garrick asked.

  “I have no idea. She had to have had a reason.”

  Garrick saw her hand tremble as she stuffed the few possessions she had brought to the cottage. That something might happen to her family was her worst fear. He turned to finish dressing and gathered his things as well.

  “Wait,” Braden said. “I don’t think it wise that you return with Sophia. We still have the advantage of those who tried to kill you thinking they succeeded. Nor should she be seen with me.”

  “I’m going with her.” Garrick would be damned if he would allow her to go through this alone. “The more of us searching for Ilisa, the sooner we will locate her.”

  “Nay,” Braden argued. “We’ve spread the word that Lady Sophia is staying at the nunnery. At the very least, she’ll need to stop there before returning to the city.”

  “There’s no time to worry about such things with Ilisa missing,” Garrick argued.

  “Braden is right, Garrick,” Sophia added. “It could very well aid us if everyone continues to think you dead. I’ll walk to the nunnery and speak with the prioress before I return to Berwick. Perhaps she can shed some light on what Ilisa did or who she spoke with before she left.”

  Garrick silently cursed. Unease filled him at the idea of allowing Sophia out of his sight. He felt as helpless as he had when those men held him down. Yet he could see her logic. He also knew the more she was seen with him, the more danger both she and her sister would be in.

  Yet the way she avoided his gaze told him that she was hiding something. But what? And why? “Very well. Please know I will do all in my power to find her. Where shall we meet once we’ve all returned to Berwick?”

  After they’d agreed on a meeting place, Garrick gathered Sophia into his arms again, his feelings for her more complicated than ever. Was this love, that elusive emotion his mother and father shared so effortlessly? It felt anything but that in this moment. The fierce protectiveness spearing through him made him want to take up his sword and battle any who threatened Sophia. If only it were that simple.

  Now more than ever, he wished for a vision, anything that would guide him to resolve this situation.

  But he saw only emptiness.

  ~*~

  Sophia’s breath hitched as she walked briskly toward the nunnery. Ilisa missing? Oh, dear God. Only Braden’s plea for her to act as though all was normal before she’d left Hilda’s kept her from running to see if the prioress knew anything more.

  What could’ve made Ilisa leave the safety of the nunnery? Braden had told Ilisa of the attack on Garrick and of Thomas’s involvement in it. Sophia hadn’t had a chance to share her thoughts on whether Sir Gilbert might have anything to do with any of it, but she knew Ilisa didn’t care for the man. She wouldn’t seek him out. Would she?

  Yet where could she be?

  Thomas might have
reason to hate the English, but Sophia couldn’t see him confronting a knight without orders from someone more powerful. That could very well be Sir Gilbert.

  Her steps faltered. With all that had happened, she’d nearly forgotten the attack on her. Surely Gilbert hadn’t ordered that. Then who? Ilisa’s life could also be in danger. The idea of her sister meeting the same fate in the river as Garrick, or even worse, Iagan, had her swallowing hard.

  Could Gilbert have ordered the attempt on Sophia’s life to frighten her? To use it as a means to convince her to marry him for the safety of herself and her family? She wouldn’t put it past him to do something so devious.

  Sophia’s head whirled at the possibilities of who had done what, but no clear answer presented itself. No one was who they seemed to be. Thomas had proven that to her once again. In truth, so had Garrick. All of this left her where she’d started. With nothing.

  At last she reached the gate of St. Mary’s and hurried through. The prioress was at her desk, reading some correspondence. She rose as soon as she saw Sophia enter, her face pinched with worry. “Have you news?”

  Sophia shook her head, distraught as obviously the prioress hadn’t heard anything more either. “Can you tell me what you know?”

  The prioress was little help. A nun had delivered a message to Ilisa the previous evening just before dark. She hadn’t taken note of the stranger who had requested the message be delivered. Nor had they found the message after Ilisa had left. Only the stable boy had seen her sister depart.

  Sophia didn’t remain long, anxious to reach home in case Ilisa had returned. She stopped at the stable on her way out, but the lad hadn’t seen Ilisa either, nor could he add anything more than what he’d told Braden.

  She pushed away the hopelessness that threatened to suffocate her and tried to think of a plan. As she passed through the city gate, she did her best to hide her upset, not wanting to alert the guard that anything was amiss.

  When she arrived at the cottage, she said a quick prayer that Ilisa was inside then opened the door. Alec and Chanse paced inside and both turned toward her eagerly. When she shook her head, Alec sank to a stool.

  “Where are Garrick and Braden?” Chanse asked.

  “They’re coming separately. We thought it best if we weren’t seen together.”

  Chanse ran a hand through his hair. “There aren’t enough of us to watch everyone who needs to be watched and search for your sister.”

  “I told you that you don’t have to stay with me,” Alec argued. “I can help search for Ilisa.”

  “’Tis far too dangerous for you to roam about by yourself, Alec,” Sophia said. “If you go missing in addition to Ilisa...” She shook her head, unable to finish the thought.

  “How is Garrick?” Chanse asked.

  “Doing remarkably better. You’ll be surprised.”

  “I’m certain I will. I always am.” Before she could ask what he meant, he spoke again. “Did the three of you form a plan?”

  “We’re to meet them at the church alcove soon. But first I’m to pass through the market square to see if anyone there has information on Ilisa.” She did her best not to look guilty at the lie. Garrick would follow her if he knew where she was going, and she didn’t want to put him in any further danger. Though his recovery had been truly remarkable in the past two days, she wouldn’t have wanted him to come with her even if he hadn’t been injured. The risk was far too great.

  “Alec, will you remain here in case your sister returns?” Chanse asked, one hand on the door. At the boy’s nod, Chanse looked at Sophia. “I’ll see you at the alcove.”

  Sophia nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question her further.

  As soon as the knight closed the door behind him, Sophia took Alec’s hand in hers. “If I’m delayed in the market square for some reason, and Garrick or Braden or Chanse return here looking for me, I need you to tell them they should not worry about me, and they should continue searching for Ilisa.”

  “Why? Where are you going?” Her brother’s eyes narrowed with concern.

  “To find Ilisa.” She squeezed his hand. “I will be fine. But can you pass that message along should the need arise?” If she was wrong, she didn’t want them to stop looking for Ilisa to try to find her.

  Alec grudgingly agreed. “But I don’t think Sir Garrick will like it.”

  At the mention of his name, she closed her eyes. Already she missed him with a deep ache. After spending so much time with him of late, she’d grown to love him even more. His proposal was a dream come true, but one she couldn’t accept. If he stayed in Berwick, he could be killed. Nor could she leave—not when her family was in danger, when her brother was being held against his will. Yet none of that changed how she felt about him.

  Now was not the time to dwell on that. Ilisa was missing, and Sophia needed to confront the man she suspected was behind all this. She had no choice but to attempt to make a bargain with her brother’s enemy.

  ~*~

  Garrick approached the city gate, a staff in one hand, the hood of a monk’s cloak drawn over his head. He waited in line with the other travelers seeking admittance to the city, keeping his head down as a humble monk might. Holding tight to what little patience he possessed was a bigger trial than he’d expected.

  This plan to allow him to return to the city was madness. He dearly wanted to shed his disguise and ride through the gate as a knight. He knew he was worthy of the title. It belonged to those who fought with honor. Those he now battled fought with secrecy, tricks, and unfair odds, which left him no choice but to use the same methods if he wanted to engage his enemy. That was their choice, not his.

  Braden had come up with the disguise and had even gone so far as to ensure the cloak and felt boots he wore were coated with dust from his supposed long journey to Berwick.

  While Garrick agreed that the longer his enemies thought him dead the better, it didn’t mean he liked disguising himself. Braden carried his sword and other clothing and had already entered the city.

  “State yer business,” the guard at the gate demanded.

  “Visiting the church,” Garrick said. He offered his version of a simple smile and did his best to mask his anger with the peaceful expression some monks seemed to permanently have.

  Unfortunately, the soldier was the same one who often stood guard. His gaze caught on Garrick for a long moment as though he recognized him.

  Garrick smiled again. A man jostled him from behind, and Garrick turned toward him. “Bless you, my brother.”

  The guard shook his head and waved Garrick through, much to his relief.

  He continued his way into the city, nodding at some of the people he passed. He and Braden had agreed to meet at the church near the market square. Garrick assumed Sophia would already be in the market square, and when they gathered in the church alcove, they could discover if she had any new information on the whereabouts of her sister.

  Many travelers were on the street this day, slowing his progress. He had to remind himself that a monk would not charge past others but would wait his turn with patience and a smile. All that made for a very long walk. Garrick realized he would never be suited for religious life. There was much to be admired of those who chose to tie themselves to God and the church and serving others.

  “Brother,” a bedraggled looking woman with a babe in the crook of one arm tugged at his sleeve. “May I ask your help?”

  He glanced around, hoping a true monk might be about. Much to his dismay, he was the only one in sight.

  “I’m in a bit of a hurry, my sister,” he said, hoping the woman would continue on her way.

  “Please. My babe is sick.”

  Garrick looked at the small form in her arms. Though he knew little about children, he could see the color of its face held a yellow cast.

  “Could you bless my son?” the woman asked. “I would be so grateful. Please?”

  A woman from their village back home had sought out his mother with a similar
problem. He touched the babe’s swaddled blankets. “The child needs sun.”

  When the woman looked up at him with startled eyes, he tried to come up with an explanation that would make more sense to her.

  “The sun holds God’s healing light, my sister. Unwrap the babe’s blankets each day for a time and let God’s light shine on your child.”

  The babe opened its eyes and blinked up at him. Garrick took it as a sign he’d said the right thing. But the mother still waited for him to give her what she’d asked for. Surely doing so would do no harm.

  He laid a gentle hand on the babe’s forehead. “Bless you, my child.”

  The woman smiled and thanked him.

  “Remember to let in God’s healing light,” Garrick called out as the woman walked away. His gaze caught on Chanse who approached him with a frown.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Chanse whispered.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. Need I remind you that you’re not a real monk?”

  Garrick glared at Chanse. “I’m quite aware. But if I’m supposed to pretend I’m a monk, what else would you have me do when someone asks for a blessing?”

  Chanse shook his head. “The whole thing seems blasphemous.”

  “On that, we agree.” He glanced around the street. “Where’s Braden?”

  “Looking for Sophia.”

  Garrick’s stomach tightened with dread, and he glared once again at Chanse. “What?”

  “She hasn’t come to the church alcove. Nor can we find her in the market square.”

  “You must be jesting.”

  “If only I were. Now both she and Ilisa are missing.”

  Garrick sagged against his walking stick for a moment. Sophia gone? His heart thundered in response.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Where could she be?” Garrick paced the small alcove of the church, his monk’s robe fluttering about his feet.