Chapter 8 #2
“Then I tell you this, as you value your putrid lives, you will leave here and make whatever lies you wish to your master. Never,” Draven paused effectively, “Ever, darken Lord Orrick’s doorway again.
For if you do, there is no corner of hell you can find to hide in that I won’t come seek you out.
And I promise you, your master’s wrath is nothing compared to mine. Do you understand?”
If they didn’t they were too foolish to live. Draven’s deadly calm voice and heated glower sent chills of terror up and down her body.
“We understand,” they said simultaneously.
Draven gestured to Orrick. “Then make your apologies to the lord and lady.”
“We beg your pardons.” They bowed before Lord Orrick.
“Now, leave.”
They bolted from the room.
Lord Draven raked Reinhold with that same menacing glare, then looked to Lord Orrick. “This is the reason you’ve swindled the king?”
Emily saw the shame on Orrick’s face. “Aye,” he whispered. “For all his faults, he is my son and I would never see him harmed.”
Draven took a deep breath. “And you are willing to give the king your life to save his?”
“He’s my son.” Orrick pushed his chair back from the table and rose to his feet. “If you will give me but a moment in private to say good-bye to my wife I shall go peacefully with you.”
Draven stood there, staring at Orrick. She couldn’t read his emotions or his thoughts, and she couldn’t imagine what terror Orrick must be feeling.
Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Simon touched her forearm and shook his head in warning.
“It won’t be necessary,” Draven said at last. “For your crime, I will extend your service to the king from two weeks this year to eighteen months.”
Orrick sighed in relief and nodded. “Then I shall have my squire fetch—”
“I’m not finished,” Draven said dispassionately.
“Forgive me,” Orrick cast his gaze to his feet.
“Since your wife is with child, I think it best that your son serve the king in your place.”
“What!” Reinhold shouted.
Draven turned to him and Reinhold shrank back from that deadly glower.
“I think eighteen months in London under the care of Master William will teach you the discipline you need to respect a man and woman who would risk their lives to shelter you. And were I you, boy, I would be grateful to them, for they are the only thing that prevents me from turning you over to Fric and Frac.”
Emily bit her lip at Lord Draven’s mercy. She turned to exchange a relieved look with Christina.
“Alexander?” Draven called.
One of his knights stood up from the lower tables. “Aye, milord?”
“Reinhold is in your custody. Come morning, I want you to escort him to London and if he gives you any trouble, handle it as you see fit.”
“Aye, milord.” Alexander, whose size made mockery of the two mountains who had brought Reinhold in, came forward and took Reinhold by the arm. “If it pleases you, milord, I shall see him sobered forthwith.”
“It would please me much.”
Alexander inclined his head, then led Reinhold away.
Orrick took a deep breath. “What of the money I owe the king?”
“What money?” Draven asked.
“The money I—”
“My Lord Orrick,” Simon interrupted. “You misunderstood my brother’s question. What money?”
Tears gathered in Orrick’s eyes as he cleared his throat. “You would do that for me?”
Draven didn’t answer, instead he turned on his heel and left the room.
Orrick sat down and wept.
Emily sat there in silence as Christina comforted her husband.
Knowing Orrick didn’t appreciate an audience for his tears, Emily excused herself and went to find Lord Draven.
He’d returned to the council room across the hall. She pushed open the door he’d left ajar and stepped tentatively into the room.
He stood with his back to her, closing up the ledgers he’d been reviewing.
“Milord?”
He paused at her voice, then continued closing the books without looking at her. “Aye, milady?”
“Why did you do that?”
Draven returned the books to the shelf on the far wall. “He’s a good man who loves his family. Why should I see him dead for it?”
In that instant, she realized something. This was not a man who would raid a village and slaughter innocent people in their beds. Her father was sorely wrong about Draven. “You didn’t attack my father’s village, did you?”
He turned around to look at her, his face aghast. “You think I would do such a thing?”
His look was too sincere to be feigned. “Nay, but my father thinks so.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, milady, but your father is a fool.”
“Tell me, milord,” she asked with a smile. “Is there a right way to take that?”
He didn’t smile back. Instead, he turned back to the books and finished putting them away.
Emily moved to help him. She saw the dark pain in his eyes. Something about all this troubled him.
“What is it?” she asked.
“What is what?”
She tilted her head and looked up at him with a frown. “There is a thought on your mind that you haven’t voiced.”
“There are many thoughts on my mind that I never voice,” he said evasively.
“This one troubles you.”
“They all trouble me in one way or another.”
Oh, the man was frustrating! Why couldn’t he simply talk to her?
“Well,” she tried again. “My mother always said that you should share your troubles. If you let them out, then they are less likely to burden you, whereas if you keep them inside they fester your blood and taint your soul.”
“Perhaps I like my soul tainted.”
“Perhaps. But you really should speak your mind. My father says is keeps one healthy.”
“Then you are the healthiest person I know.”
She laughed. “He says that, too.”
Emily handed him the book she held and as he took it, their fingers collided. He froze and stared at her fingers. Something warm flickered in his eyes, brightening the blue tones.
Kiss me, she begged silently, longing to feel his lips against hers.
But he didn’t. Instead, he took the book and placed it on the shelf with the others.
Emily sighed. “At least you’re finished now.”
“Aye. If we leave within the hour, we should be at the inn by nightfall and Ravenswood by this time tomorrow.”
Emily’s breath caught in her throat as disappointment filled her. He had completely forgotten her request to go to the fair?
“But...”
Draven turned at her squelched word. “But?”
He saw the disappointment in her eyes.
“Nothing.” She hung her head dejectedly. “I shall go pack my saddlebags.”
Draven frowned at her as she left him. What the devil was wrong with her? Surely, she wasn’t still angry over the saddlebags?
She’d seemed so happy just a moment before and now....
He shook his head.
Women. What man would ever understand them?
Shrugging it off, he left the room and returned to the hall to find Simon still sitting at his place on the dais. Draven quickly averted his gaze from the lord’s table to his brother. “Where’s Orrick?”
Simon gestured toward the stairs with the grape he held in his hand. “Christina took him above until he could compose himself. ‘Twould seem he is overwhelmed by your mercy.” He popped the grape into his mouth.
Draven nodded. He’d pay the money to Henry from his own coffers, and so long as Henry had his full due, the king would leave the baron in peace.
“Have you any idea what is wrong with Emily?” Draven asked after Simon had swallowed his grape.
Picking through the bowl of grapes in front of him, Simon shrugged. “She was fine when she left here. What did you say to her?”
Draven stiffened at the implication. “I did nothing more than tell her to get ready to leave. We’ll be departing as soon as everyone is packed and saddled.”
Simon tossed the grape in his hand back into the bowl and leveled a droll look at him. “You dolt!”
Draven lifted his brows at the unwarranted insult. “I beg your pardon?”
“I realize, brother, you’re used to snapping your fingers and having your men follow you while they swallow any complaint lest you mangle them over it, but the lady isn’t used to it. You don’t just finish your work, hop on your horse, and make for home. Emily wanted to go to the fair.”
Draven stared at him in disbelief. “We’ve been here two days, I assumed you had taken her already. That is why you came, is it not? Or are you here simply here to gorge yourself on grapes and pester me?”
“Mostly the latter,” Simon admitted with a smirk. “However, had you stuck your head out of the door in the last two days you would have found that I sprained my ankle the evening of our arrival.”
Suspicious, Draven crossed his arms over his chest. “Doing what?”
“Walking.”
“Walking?” he asked in disbelief.
“Aye, walking,” Simon repeated. “Unfortunately, I have been unable to escort the lady. The least you could do is take her for me.”
“I don’t have time for such frivolities.”
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You must get back home and mope. How silly of me.”
Draven stiffened at his audacity. “Careful, brother,” he growled, “you overstep your bounds.”
“Heaven forbid I should do that. But,” Simon paused and leaned forward on his elbows.
“I would make a small request that you do take the lady. From what I’ve heard from Christina, Emily has never been allowed off her father’s lands.
She has never once seen a fair, and if you have any kindness in your heart toward her, you would let her go this one time.
She’ll probably never have another chance again in her life. ”
Simon was manipulating him. He knew it most certainly.
However, from what he’d heard himself, he knew Emily had led a most sheltered existence.
Having lived his childhood under his own father’s ridiculous dictates, he could well understand her wishing to do something entertaining.
Even though he didn’t care for such events, he knew enough about women to know Emily would have fun.
No doubt she would even smile a bit.
His mood lightened instantly as he contemplated her winsome smile.
Pleasing her wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
Draven looked blankly at his brother. “Hurt your ankle, did you?”
“Back to that are we?” Simon lifted his right leg up to the side of the table so that Draven could see it. “As you can plainly see my ankle is quite swollen.”
Not from what Draven could tell, but then Simon placed it back under his chair so quickly he scarcely got more than a glimpse of it. “We leave in the morning,” Draven announced as he turned about to leave. “Swollen ankle or not.”