“So why are you in Herefordshire?”
“Up until yesterday, I was to marry a local heiress.”
Fergus’ eyebrows lifted; he liked money. “Is that so? What did you do to make her break the betrothal?”
Fergus snickered at Garren’s expense. Garren grinned at his friend’s sense of humor. “It wasn’t her, but her father. Seems he didn’t take too kindly to me, after all.”
“Do tell.”
Garren’s smile faded and the conversation took a serious turn. He explained everything, from the beginning. Fergus had no knowledge, nor had he ever, of Garren’s true vocation, so the details about the Marshal were left out. For all Fergus knew, Garren’s father had negotiated a marriage contract, which was broken when the de Rosa’s concocted some foolish story about Garren being a spy for the king. Garren made sure to point out, without much embellishment, how suspicious the clan was and how protective they were of Derica.
Fergus was grim. “So you want revenge for them breaking the contract?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I want her.”
Fergus didn’t quite understand. “You want her? But why? Lady Derica without the inheritance is hardly worth the trouble.”
“You don’t understand, Fergus. I am in love with her.”
Fergus looked shocked. “I see,” he muttered. “Are you sure, Garren?”
“I am.”
“Perhaps it was something you ate. It made you ill and affected your thoughts. Perhaps you simply think you are in love with her.”
Garren grinned. “I am fairly certain that it is not my imagination.”
“A spell, then. She cast a spell to bewitch you.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
“But love,” Fergus stood up. “Garren, you of all people cannot succumb to something that makes the strongest of men weak and ineffectual. Love has destroyed more lives and kingdoms throughout the ages than can be counted. Are you not terrified?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then let me help you,” Fergus grasped his arm. “Let me beat it out of you. I shall not let this destroy you, Garren, I promise.”
Garren laughed as his friend tried to jerk him off the bed. “You can’t beat it out of me. But if you don’t let go of me, you’re going to get a beating of your own.”
“I am trying to help you. Do not resist me, you fool.”
“Fergus, trust me. This isn’t something that can be bashed away with a fist or reversed with magic charms. It is something deep inside that can never be erased.”
Fergus let go of him. “Something has indeed happened to you, my friend. The Garren le Mon I have known all of these years would never speak like that.”
“The Garren le Mon you knew no longer exists,” Garren said quietly. “This is serious. I need your help.”
Fergus cast him a long look as he reclaimed his chair. “I see. So you sent for me not to socialize and become disgustingly drunk as we remember old times, but to put me into service.”
“Aye.”
He signed with exaggeration. “Very well. What will you have me do?”
“Go to Framlingham and abduct Derica for me.”