Chapter 11 #2
Emily touched hands with Christina, then said a goodbye to Orrick.
Once done, she met Draven’s irritated glower. “I am ready, milord. And I thank you for your patience.”
Draven gave a curt nod to Orrick before he kicked his horse forward and led his party through the bailey. At least for the next two days he wouldn’t have to fear being near the lady. The journey would see her on her horse and he on his.
At last, he would have peace.
“What do you mean her horse has gone lame?” Draven snarled, looking at his knight, Arnold.
“You may see for yourself, milord.” His man stood back in order to give him access.
Draven lifted up the back left hoof and saw it. An injured horse?
Was fate itself conspiring against him now?
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Emily or Simon had something to do with it. But he’d kept his eyes on the lady the whole time and knew for a fact she’d done nothing to harm the horse.
It was merely one of those wretched, awful, gut-wrenching things.
“Very well.” Draven lowered the horse’s hoof. “Remove the saddle and I’ll trust you to bring the horse to Ravenswood at a slow pace to keep from injuring her more.”
“Aye, milord.”
“Simon!” Draven looked at his brother who sat on his horse observing them. “The lady rides with you.”
Emily crossed the short distance that separated them and said in a low voice, “I’ll not ride with him, milord.”
“You’ll do as you are told.”
She lifted both brows, then crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll not take that tone with me.”
“Woman,” he growled in a voice that had sent grown men to their knees quaking in fear more times than he could count. “This is not a game.”
Her face sobered, but there was none of the accompanying fear he was used to seeing. If anything, his growl seemed to challenge her.
“You are quite right, milord. It isn’t. I will either ride with you or I shall walk.”
Draven glared at her. “Have you no sense to press me so?”
“I have plenty of sense.”
“Then ride with Simon.”
“Nay.”
By the stubborn set of her jaw he could tell she had no intention of ceding the matter. “If you are the meekest of Hugh’s daughters, then I am thankful I have never had the privilege of meeting your sisters.”
Realizing arguing with her would do nothing save waste more time, Draven relented. “Mount the damn horse.”
Emily sensed she might be pushing him too far. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so bold after all. But then her father had called her boldness one of her more endearing qualities.
As she took the saddle, she didn’t think Lord Draven agreed with him. In fact, judging by the stiffness of his body as he mounted behind her, she didn’t think he thought much of her at all at present.
She opened her mouth to apologize.
“Don’t speak,” he snapped. “Not one single word.”
Emily clamped her lips together and vowed not to open them again to him until he apologized for his sharp tone.
Draven felt her go tense in his lap and knew he had offended her. So be it. He didn’t think he could stand feeling her pressed against him while that silken voice of hers addressed him. Indeed, his entire body ached with longing to the point he didn’t know if he could stand it.
If they passed a single village, town or manor on this trip, he would stop and buy her a horse no matter the price.
In fact, he’d gladly trade everything he owned for a wayward nag.
The day wore on in silence while Draven tried his best to distance his mind from his body.
But it was impossible. Every stinking hoofbeat drove her against him in a sensuous rhythm that rocked his equilibrium and tolerance all the more.
And with every hour that passed, he could feel his anger mount and his shaft stiffen far beyond pain.
The wind blew tendrils of her hair against his face, caressing his cheeks and sending her honey-suckle scent through him.
Oh, but it would be so easy to spur his horse forward, find a secluded place in the woods and lay her beneath him.
The memory of her kiss tortured him even more.
“Milord?”
He winced at her voice. “I told you not to speak.”
“I didn’t want to,” she said petulantly, “But I have no choice.”
“Aye, you do.”
“I do not,” she said firmly.
He looked down at her and saw the blush on her cheeks. “What is of such—”
“We needs take a rest.”
“I wish to cover—”
“Milord,” she said, cutting him off. “You misunderstand me. We needs,” she stressed the word, “take a rest.” She shifted her gaze meaningfully from his face to the trees they passed.
Dawning fell upon him.
“Oh.” He held his hand up to signal the others that they were slowing down.
Draven directed his horse to a small copse of trees. Reining to a stop, he helped her slide down the left side of his mount.
“Thank you,” she said coldly, then turned to make her way into the woods.
Draven took the time to check on his horse to make sure their combined weight wasn’t overly tiring to the animal.
Simon drew near. “Are you all right?”
Draven just glared at him.
For once Simon had the sense not to press him. He held his hands up, raised his brows and took a step back. “I can see the answer to that is definitely nay.”
Draven straightened from looking at his horse and pressed the palm of his hand to his thigh in an effort to pull his breeches further away from his swollen member. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand this without being driven mad by it.
How much unsated lust could one man be subjected to before he expired from it?
And why in the name of Lucifer did he have to be the experiment to see just how much one man could take?
All Draven wanted was peace. He’d have never gone to London at Henry’s bequest if he’d had any idea of the outcome, and right then the thought of handing himself back over to the king for execution seemed appealing.
He glanced to where Simon still stood by his side, looking into the trees where Emily and her maid had vanished.
“She wants to marry me,” Draven muttered to his brother.
Simon locked gazes with him. “She said as much to me.”
“Did she say why?”
“For some unfathomable reason, she likes you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She wants me dead is what she wants.”
“If I believed that for one minute, I’d never...” Simon’s voice trailed off.
“You’d never what?”
“Tolerate it,” he finished.
Draven pulled his dagger from his belt and handed it hilt first to Simon. “Here, take this.”
Simon frowned. “Why?”
“Take it and drive it straight through my heart before I perish in flames.”
Simon laughed and sheathed it back in Draven’s belt. “You know what they say. Lust cannot keep. Something must be done about it.”
“Are you so desperate for my lands that you would have Henry kill me for it?”
“Hardly,” he said offended. “Marry the girl and take her at will.”
Draven sighed. “Think you for one moment her father would tolerate me as his son-in-law?”
“He’d have no choice if you went to Henry.”
For the first time in his life, Draven allowed the thought of matrimony to tempt him. “You would condemn her to life with me?”
“‘Twould certainly be better than life spent with her father. You at least would allow her a moment or two of fun I’d wager.”
“Perhaps, but at least with her father she would live out her life. With me there would be nothing save an early grave.”
“Draven, you are not—”
“Don’t say it, Simon, for I know the truth. You see in me what you wish to, but I know what lies within. I feel it as a constant companion.”
Simon clapped him on the back. “You angst too much. You need to learn to relax and just enjoy life. Take one moment and live.” He jerked his chin toward the trees.
Draven turned his head to see Emily rejoining them.
“You could learn much from the lady,” Simon said in a low tone. “She knows how to make the most of what God has given us.”
Draven considered his words.
Simon made it all sound so simple, but the consequences were too high. If he listened to his brother and married, there was much more than just a slim chance he would one day kill her.
So far, he’d maintained his temper around her, but she held no fear of him, and he cringed at the thought of her one day pushing him past his limit.
‘Twas a chance he’d never take. One he refused to take.
Emily didn’t say a word as she neared the men. Draven looked away.
She exchanged a frustrated look with Simon before speaking to Draven. “Can we enjoy food now, or do you plan to ride for the rest of the day?”
Draven ran his hand through his hair, but still refused to meet her gaze. “My horse needs more rest. Take your time.”
She threw her hands up at Simon, then impulsively made a gesture as if she were going to choke Draven.
Just as she reached for his neck, Draven turned to see her gesture.
Emily drew her arms back to her shoulders and smiled.
Draven gave her a suspicious stare. “What were you doing?”
“Nothing,” she said sweetly.
He looked to Simon. “What was she doing?”
“Nothing.” Simon gave her a wink.
Sighing wearily, Draven headed toward his men. “I don’t have time for this.”
Emily turned to Simon as soon as Draven left their earshot. “He’s a stubborn man.”
“To the very core of his soul.”
“What am I to do?”
“Keep at it. Sooner or later, he’s bound to give in and admit his feelings.”
Emily watched as Lord Draven talked to his knights. He seemed completely oblivious to her presence. “What if he has no feelings for me?”
Simon laughed. “I assure you, if that were true, he wouldn’t avoid you so.”
“Are you certain?”
“Quite.”
Emily considered his words for a moment as well as what she should do next. “Do you think I’m being too bold in seeking him out so often?”
“Is boldness part of your nature?”
“Unfortunately, aye.”
“Then I would say follow your inclinations, milady. So long as you’re being true to yourself, there is nothing to fear.”
Emily found that hard to believe. She looked askance to Simon. “Nothing to fear from a man who is feared by more than half of Christendom. Simon, are you certain?”
He nodded. “Trust me, milady, I’ll let you know when you’ve pushed him too far.”
“Very well, then. Please, excuse me while I go make more nuisance of myself.”