Chapter 2 #2
She approached his chair where he sat on the raised dais.
“I’ll kill him!” he slurred as he focused a blood-shot gaze on her.
The stench of ale almost overwhelmed her.
“If it’s the last thing I ever do, I will tear down his walls and hang him from the tallest tree I can find.
I’ll carve his heart out and feed it to the.
.. the wolves....or maybe mice.” He hiccupped and looked at his favorite hound whose head rested in his lap.
“What would hurt more? A mouse or a wolf? If a wolf—”
“You need to get some sleep,” she said, interrupting his ramblings.
“I won’t sleep until you return.”
“I know,” she whispered. Never in her life had she doubted the fact that her father loved his daughters, nor the fact that he would die to protect them. She just wished he had learned to let them go.
Joanne entered the room from the small door to the right of the table. She held a large basket in her hands, and her eyes were red and bright from her tears. None of them had slept and Emily wondered if her own eyes held the same purple ring beneath them.
“I know ‘tis only a day’s ride, but still I packed you something to eat for the trip.”
Emily smiled at Joanne’s kindness as she took the basket from her. She was quite sure her sister had used her usual diligence and had prepared enough food to feed a small army. “I shall miss you terribly.”
Joanne hugged her close and Emily held on to her. She and Joanne had never been apart before. They were closer than just sisters, they were best friends. “It will be all right, Joanne, I swear it. You shall see, in a year we’ll laugh over this.”
“I hope so,” Joanne breathed. “It won’t be the same without you here.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes, but Emily refused to let them fall any more. She must be strong for her family. Though the youngest, she was the one who had always been strong for them all.
“Just think,” she said in an effort to cheer Joanne, “in a month’s time you won’t even be here to miss me. You’ll have your own household to run. Now, please, make father go to bed.”
Joanne nodded, then pulled back. Tears streamed down her face again, and she could tell her sister had passed the point of being able to speak.
Her own throat tight, Emily brushed a stray tendril of blond hair off Joanne’s temple. “May God watch over you while I’m gone.”
Joanne grabbed her hand and wailed as if her heart were breaking. Wishing she could give such rein to her emotions, Emily kissed her sister’s cheek, then gently extracted her hand. “All shall be fine, you’ll see.”
She turned to wish her father well only to discover he had finally passed out. Approaching his chair again, she touched his grisled face.
“I know you love me, Father. I never doubted it. But we are grown women and you must let us live our lives for ourselves,” she whispered.
“Please forgive me for what I do. I’d never do anything to hurt you, and I hope one day you’ll understand.
It’s my time now to protect you.” She brushed her lips across his forehead, then turned about and left the hall.
With a deep breath to fortify her courage, Emily made her way to the door where Alys waited, then down the stairs where her entourage waited.
One of the king’s messengers came forward to help her mount her horse.
Thanking him for the kindness, she handed her basket to Alys, then watched as her maid climbed aboard the first wagon and took a seat.
Once she was in her saddle, the messenger returned to his horse and once he mounted, they were on their way.
Lord Draven and his men were waiting for them on the other side of the gate. His helm was in place, and she found it disturbing that she couldn’t see his face.
She could, however, hear his muffled curse as he spied the three wagons behind her.
“Did you pack the entire castle?” he demanded.
“I packed what was necessary.”
Laughter rang out from the knight to the right of Lord Draven. His black surcoat bore a golden raven that was only slightly different from Lord Draven’s.
“Shut up, Simon, before I run you through,” Lord Draven snapped.
The one called Simon removed his helm and cast a glowing smile in her direction.
He was every bit as handsome as Lord Draven, but his looks were entirely different.
His red hair was just a shade darker than a pumpkin and his blue eyes twinkled in easy-going friendship. He wore a small, well-trimmed beard.
Kicking his horse forward, he paused by her side. “Allow me to present myself, milady,” he said charmingly. “I’m Simon of Ravenswood, brother to the ogre, and your most fervent protector for this journey.”
“Wonderful,” Lord Draven said drily. “And pray tell who will protect her from your drool? Should I have my squire fetch rags now, or should I wait until she starts to drown?”
Simon leaned forward ever so slightly, then spoke in a low tone for her ears alone. “His bite is nowhere near as bad as his bark.”
She cast a quick glance to the man whose name was synonymous with death. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Aye, but you’ve heard from those who have faced him in battle. There, he is a champion to be feared like a charging lion. But away from battle he is a fair man with a loud bellow.”
“And a sharp sword for those who pester me,” Draven said in that bellow Simon had just mentioned.
Lord Draven turned to his men and ordered them to start the journey.
His men rode to the front and back of her while Lord Draven took the lead. Simon kept apace with her, and Alys followed in the wagons.
Emily tried to study the man she had vowed to marry, and was unsure now if she could truly carry the deed off. She’d heard much of Draven de Montague from her father and others who’d visited her home.
He was a man known for unequaled prowess in battle and tourney. No one had ever defeated him, and he’d once saved the king’s life. The few ladies she had met who had seen him had not lied about his good looks. He truly was handsome and fierce.
No wonder maids giggled and sighed at the mention of his name.
He sat straight in his saddle and moved in rhythm with the horse. Anyone could tell Lord Draven felt at home on horseback and from what she’d heard, he had spent much of his life on campaigns.
Yet, it was strange to look at him now, knowing that they might share a bed together where he would see her as no man had, touch her in places she dare not think about.
And kiss her in the wee hours of the night.
Heat crept over her face. She’d never thought of a real man that way before. After Joanne had spent her first night with Niles, they had talked at great lengths about what went on between men and women in country matters. How it felt when a man claimed a woman with his body.
Since then, Emily had imagined a fair-haired man with humor in his eyes and laughter always on his tongue. She’d let her fantasies loose at night where no one could see the blush that was currently blistering her cheeks.
As a girl, she’d naturally assumed her first would be the husband her father chose. And only in her wildest imaginings had she dreamed she would love the man who took her virginity. At best, she’d hoped to be fond of him.
Now, the moment would soon be at hand, and Lord Draven would be the one...
She trembled at the very thought of the fierce warrior taking her. Of his mouth claiming hers in her very first kiss. Would he be tender, or would he ravish her and leave her aching and in pain?
Her maid, Alys, had warned her a woman could never tell simply by looking at a man how he would treat her in the privacy of their bedroom.
Emily wasn’t so sure.
“Is it true your brother earned his spurs before he first shaved?” she asked Simon.
Pride shone in his eyes. “Aye. He was my father’s squire in King Henry’s army. When my father died in battle, Draven seized his sword, then protected Henry’s back. He was knighted on the battlefield by Henry Plantagenet himself.”
“How lucky for him that Henry became king.”
“With my brother by his side, Henry couldn’t lose, milady.”
It gave her hope that a man who appeared so kind as Simon idolized his brother so much. From the tales she’d heard, she half expected Lord Draven to be a monster with horns, who ate small children for pleasure.
Surely such a monstrous man wouldn’t tolerate his brother’s teasing.
Nay, there was much more to Lord Draven than she’d been told. At least she hoped that was true. It would be much easier to give her body over to a man who could be kind than it would to a cruel man.
They rode in silence until late morning when Lord Draven decided to stop for a rest. Simon helped her down. She followed him to a shaded spot while Lord Draven and his men tended the horses.
Simon spread a cloak out for her to sit on the ground beneath a large oak tree. “Would you care to share what my sister packed for my journey?” she asked as she sank to the ground and Alys brought her basket to her.
Simon looked as if she had just offered him ambrosia. “Aye, milady. I’ve grown so ill of dried beef and cheese that I could just....” He smiled. “I truly appreciate your offer.”
Alys wagged her brows at her before she returned to the wagons.
Emily ignored her while she unpacked Joanne’s thoughtful gift.
As Simon poured the wine and she cut the bread and mincemeat pie, Lord Draven returned from the stream. He’d removed his helm and coif, and his hair was damp as if he’d washed his face in the stream, then raked his hand through the ebony waves.
Never had she seen a man so handsome.
His features were more relaxed now than they’d been yesterday, and his face held an almost a boyish charm to it. Except for his eyes. They remained stern and sharp and unyielding.