Chapter 11
Eleven
Draven dashed off so quickly that Emily had no choice but to let him flee.
Mystified by his question, she stood on the battlements baffled. How could he not see what she herself saw?
You know me not at all.
There was truth to those words and yet...
She had seen enough of his kindness to know he was a good man. And though he may not know what he needed, she did.
His words to the odious pair with Reinhold earlier that day came to her mind.
Stiffening her spine in determination, she narrowed her gaze on where he had vanished.
“There is no corner you may find, milord, where I will not seek you out. You’re going to learn what my father has long known.
I’m as stubborn as the day is long, and when I set my mind to something.
... Well, iron will you may have, but ‘tis no match for my own. I will protect my father and save you. See if I don’t. ”
She touched her lips with the back of her fingers. Draven had responded to her with passion and longing. Even a virginal maid could tell that. And if he desired her, then he held some feeling for her.
Lust wasn’t the only feeling she wished to stir within him, but it was a beginning. A beginning she needed, and one she could most definitely use.
Draven ground his teeth as pent-up emotions swept through him. Anger, torment, shame. He had broken his word to Henry, but worse than that was the stinging desire flooding his body.
“For husband.”
The words echoed in his head as his lips burned, branded by her innocent kiss.
Why had she done it?
What could she possibly be thinking?
Her father would perish in shock if he knew her thoughts. Indeed, ‘twas almost worth telling Hugh just to have the earl out of his way.
Well, she could think those foolish thoughts all she wanted. Wishing didn’t make something reality. Of all men, he knew that for truth. And now that he knew her game, he would guard himself even more closely.
She had tricked a kiss from him, but he would not touch her again. Not her hand, not even the hem of her sleeve. Aye, from this moment on, he would avoid every part of her.
The next morning as Draven made his way down the stairs, Emily fell fully against him, torching every part of his body from cheek to toe. The weight of her body pressing him back against the wall was more than enough to make a mockery of his will.
“Are you all right, milord?” she asked, her breath tickling his throat. “I didn’t see you there.”
Yet there was a light in her eyes that made him question her sincerity. Especially combined with the fact that she had yet to withdraw from him and her lips remained dangerously close to his own.
“I’m so glad you were here, else I would have stumbled the whole way down the stairs, and like as not broken my neck.”
Draven still couldn’t speak. Not when his arm was trapped between her breasts and her legs were entwined with his own. He could feel her heart pounding beneath his forearm and when she moved back, her hip brushed against the part of him that ached the most to possess her body. A tremor shook him.
And by the hot look on her face, he could tell she’d felt his erection plainly enough.
An attractive blush darkened her cheeks, making her eyes glow. “Thank you for your chivalry, milord. I think henceforth I shall call you the hero of my heart.”
At last, he found his voice. “You credit me too much.” After all the last thing he needed was for her to misinterpret his actions. “I didn’t even know you were there until you fell into me.”
“Oh, then forgive me.” She adjusted her kirtle around her.
Draven watched suspiciously as she drew the material tight against her body, highlighting the curves of her hips. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she bent over, exposing the tops of her breasts to his starving gaze.
His groin tightened even more.
Straightening, she gave him a charming smile. “I was trying to hurry so as not to keep you waiting this time.”
“How courteous.”
Better she should make him wait the next fortnight than reignite his blood with this inferno.
He moved away from her.
“Milord,” she said, her tone chiding. “You act as though you are afraid of me.”
Draven stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at her. “I fear no man.”
Cocking her head, she tsked. “But I am not man.”
“Do you think me daft that I don’t know that?”
She raised a sharp brow at the anger in his voice. “Well, the way you treat me would leave me to think otherwise.”
Sensing his imminent defeat, Draven sought to retreat to safety. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“See,” she said triumphantly. “There you go.”
He paused in confusion. “There I go, what?”
“Treating me as if I’m something other than a woman.”
His head ached from her logic. “If I’m not treating you as a woman, then what, pray tell, am I treating you like?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” he asked incredulously.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are we having this discussion?”
“Why not?” she quipped.
Draven looked askance at her. There was a playful air about her, and a note of mischief. “You are toying with me, aren’t you?”
The devilish light in her eyes deepened. “And if I were?”
“Then I’d say stop it.”
“Why?”
“Because it annoys me.” He started back down the stairs.
“I’d rather be annoying than ignored,” she said, raising her voice as she followed down the stairs after him. “That is what you’ve been doing all morning is it not? Ignoring me?”
“And if I were?” he asked without stopping.
“Then I’d say stop it.”
Draven pressed his hand to his temple in frustration at her using his words against him.
He stopped on the bottom step and looked at her. “How is it you do this to me?”
“Do what?” She held such a look of innocence on her face that it almost made him laugh.
“Talk circles around me. I swear I’m becoming quite dizzy from it.”
“Perhaps you are dizzy from something else?” She arched a brow.
“And that would be?”
She shrugged, smiled, and descended the stairs. “How should I know,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I’m not the brooding ogre. I’m just a woman, plain and simple.”
Draven growled low in his throat. Plain and simple described her like pebble described Gibraltar.
“I’m not a brooding ogre,” he called after her.
She paused at the door and looked back at him. “Nay, you are right. But do you know what you are?”
Did he dare ask it?
He did. “What?”
“You’re a very handsome man, with beautiful eyes.”
Stunned, he didn’t move as she continued her way out the door.
Never in his life had anyone said such a thing to him. Ogre, demon, son of the devil, horse’s arse. He’d been called any number of insults. But no one in his life had ever given him a compliment on anything save his battle prowess.
“Beautiful eyes,” he repeated, both repulsed and yet strangely flattered.
Did he in fact have—
“Oh bugger that,” he snapped under his breath. Who cared what his eyes looked like so long as he could see with them. He wasn’t some winsome maid to have his head turned by flattery. He was a knight sworn to keep his hands off the Lady Emily.
And keep his hands off her he most surely would.
“Could you give me a hand, milord?”
Draven cringed at Emily’s question as she waited by her horse for his assistance.
What had he said but an hour ago about keeping his hands off her?
He looked about for Simon, but the man seemed to have vanished. His other men were already mounted.
Resigned to it, he nodded.
Just pretend she’s a fat, hideous nun.
Aye, one who smelled of honeysuckle and sunshine. His body leapt at the scent of her, and he could feel the muscles of his arms constrict.
As quickly as he could, he lifted her up. But she didn’t take her saddle.
“Is there a problem?” he snapped.
She batted her lashes at him quite innocently. “I can’t seem to get seated.”
He stifled the urge to toss her over the horse like a corpse. “You’re doing this apurpose,” he said in a low whisper so as not to alert others to her game.
Her playful look confirmed his suspicion. “I told you what I wanted, milord, and I am not above using any means to win.”
He dumped her in the saddle. “Perhaps I should warn you, milady. No one has ever bested me.”
“Then I would say you are due for a good besting.”
He opened his mouth to respond when he caught sight of Simon joining them.
“Ah,” Simon said as he passed by. “I see you’ve taken care of the lady. A good thing, too.”
“Why? Did you perchance twist your arm this time?” Draven asked sarcastically as Simon took his reins.
“In fact, I did. I don’t think I shall be quite put out for some time. Won’t be able to do anything chivalrous.”
A conspiracy.
He should have known. Well, he was no pawn to be pushed about. To the devil with them both!
Swinging himself up on his horse, Draven waited until Emily had finished her goodbye to Christina.
“You will write as soon as the babe is born?” Emily asked.
“I will, and you’ll have to come see me again.”
Emily cast a glance to him. “I will see what I can do.”
One of Christina’s servants came rushing from the hall with a book. “Milady,” the old woman said to Christina, “You left this in the hall.”
“Oh dear.” Christina took the book from the old woman’s hands. “Thank you, Mildred. I forgot all about it.” Christina handed the book to Emily. “This is for you.”
“For me?” Emily started to open it, but Christina slammed the book shut and shook her head.
“‘Tis for you alone in the privacy of your room.”
“But—"
“Emily,” Christina interrupted with a stressed tone. “‘Tis for you, alone. It concerns the matter we spoke of earlier this morn.”
Emily opened her mouth as Christina’s meaning dawned on her.
Draven exchanged an interested smirk with Simon who shrugged as if he had no idea what the women discussed.
But Draven knew. There was more conspiracy afoot. And he couldn’t wait to lay hands to said book to see exactly what mischief they plotted, for there was little doubt in his mind whom they plotted against.
Christina helped Emily secure the book in her saddlebags. “Godspeed you all.”