Chapter 18
Eighteen
“Milady, the king requests an audience with you.”
Emily trembled in fear as Alys held the door open for her. The king had arrived just that morning and she had known it would only be a matter of time before he made the request.
Still, she was terrified of facing him.
“Courage, milady,” Alys whispered, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Emily thanked her and patted Alys’ strong grip.
Taking a deep breath for courage, she forced herself to leave her solar and descend the stairs that would take her to her father’s hall where Henry waited.
The king’s guards and courtiers milled about at the foot of the stairs. Her servants struggled to bring them food and drink while the hounds milled between legs.
To her horror, all eyes turned to her as she descended the steps, and a hush fell over them.
As she drew nearer, their heads came together and she could hear them whispering dreadful things.
“Hardly pretty enough to warrant the death of a champion,” one of the crueler ladies-in-waiting said as she passed.
“And all this time I thought Ravenswood preferred he company of his squire,” one of the men said.
“Better than me, I thought he preferred his brother!” Laughter erupted.
Her face flooded with heat as she cast a bold, angry stare at the ones mocking her and her lord.
They turned away, their faces filled with shame.
Never one to be intimidated, Emily lifted her head high. “Laugh if you must. But the tip of Lord Draven’s finger be worth more than the lot of you combined, and were he here I daresay there would be none of you brave enough to even look upon him, let alone mock him with your words.”
They exchanged looks with each other that told her she had guessed rightly.
Her father nodded his approval to her as he joined her. He kissed her brow and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Never let it be said my daughter is not the bravest woman in Christendom,” he whispered to her.
Patting her hand in comfort, he led her into the great hall where the king awaited her.
Emily saw Henry at once. A tall man with red hair, he was hard to miss. She had expected him to be seated, but instead he paced the room with his hands behind his back.
She dropped into a deep curtsey as he finally took note of her.
“See what he has done!” Her father gestured to her rounded belly.
Henry’s gaze narrowed on her stomach which had only recently begun to show her condition.
“Leave us,” Henry commanded. “We wish to address the lady in private.”
Her father nodded, then left her alone with the king.
Emily clasped her hands together and kept her gaze on the floor.
Henry drew near her, stopping just in front of her. “You are a fetching maid. Perhaps we were thoughtless in handing you over to Lord Draven’s protection?”
“Majesty, I—”
“Did we command you to speak?”
Emily swallowed in fear and quickly clamped her lips together.
“So,” Henry said, “you can follow orders.”
She nodded.
“Good.” He fell silent for several minutes as her heart thundered in her breast.
When he spoke again his voice was harsh and angry, and his eyes branded her with malice. “Now tell us, aye or nay, is Lord Draven the father of your babe?”
She bit her lips, refusing to answer. If she couldn’t explain, then she would say nothing to damn the man she loved.
“Are you testing our patience?” Henry asked, his voice even more menacing than before.
“Nay, majesty.”
“Then answer our question.”
Emily thought she might faint from her nerves as the quiet stretched out interminably.
“Why do you refuse to answer your king?”
Tears fell from her cheeks as she lifted her head. “I cannot.”
Henry frowned. “Here now, none of that. We despise tears.” He handed her a cloth. “For Peter’s Sake, dry your eyes.”
She did as he ordered.
“Now tell us what happened while you were in Lord Draven’s custody.”
Emily took a deep breath and slowly began telling Henry the whole story from how she had felt the moment she saw him to the moment he had taken her virginity.
She did her best not to be embarrassed, but she wanted to be frank with the king. To make him forgive Draven for his actions.
“So you see, Majesty, it wasn’t his fault.” She looked up at him. “Draven tried to resist, but I wouldn’t let him. This is all my fault.”
Henry’s stare would rival the winter for coldness. “Lord Draven knows well what we do to those who betray us.”
“But majesty, please, he is your loyal servant. He has served you the whole of his life.”
“Enough,” he said cutting her off and making her jump in fear of his harsh tone. “You speak of his service as if you have much knowledge. And knowing Draven as we do, we find that hard to believe. Tell us, has Draven ever told you how he came to be in service to the crown?”
She shook her head.
The coldness faded from his eyes as he spoke of Draven. “He was a no more than four-and-ten when we met him. Did you know that?”
“Nay, majesty.”
Henry paced a small path before her as he continued his story, “We had been gathering troops in France to fight Stephen when we happened upon his training. Never had we seen such strength or skill in one so young.”
He paused in the tale as if remembering the event.
“Draven fought like a lion, and we watched in amazement as he disarmed his lord. I knew in that instant that I was witnessing a boy who would grow to be invincible in battle.”
Emily arched a brow as she noted Henry’s slip in referring to himself singularly. But she wisely held her tongue as he spoke.
“Knowing the boy would one day grow to a knight to be reckoned with, I accepted the oath of Miles de Poitiers for the service of himself and his squire. Miles served us well and in the battle for Arundel, he fell while guarding our back.”
Henry narrowed his eyes as he recalled the event.
“I shall never forget that moment,” he said, his voice calm and reflective.
“I turned just in time to see Harold of Ravenswood charge me with his sword raised. They say you can see your life flash before your eyes when you are about to die. ‘Tis truth. I saw it clearly. And just as I prepared myself for the blow that would kill me, out of nowhere came Miles’s squire.”
Henry shook his head as if finding it hard to imagine even on this day so many years later. “Draven caught Harold by the waist and the two tumbled away from me. They fought each other with such hatred and skill that I couldn’t tear my eyes from them.
“Harold wounded the boy and moved in for the coup de grace, but somehow Draven gained his feet even though he had a wound in his gut that would have killed most men.
“As Harold extended his sword, Draven made an upper cut and plunged his sword through Harold’s body. Harold laughed as he stumbled back, and he actually patted Draven on the shoulder.” Henry met her gaze. “Do you know what he said to Draven then?”
Emily shook her head.
“At last, you have done me proud, beetle-brain. On this day, I finally admit that you are the blood of my blood. For only my son could have killed me.”
A chill went through her as she tried to imagine what Draven must have felt.
“I have never forgotten that moment,” Henry whispered. “Nor the look on Draven’s face. He accepted the words as if they came as no surprise. I, on the other hand, was stunned to my core, for I couldn’t conceive of a father saying such a brutal thing in parting to his son.
“Then Draven turned and handed me the sword of his father, and swore his unyielding loyalty to my service. I knighted him on the spot, and not once since that day has he ever done anything to cause me to question his loyalty.
“Until now.” His voice was harsh and biting.
Emily felt the tears prickle the backs of her eyes, but she withheld them.
“We cannot help but wonder what it was that made a man so loyal to us forget his oath. What say you, lady? Can you give us one reason why we might spare his life?”
“Aye.” She metHenry’s gaze with impertinent directness. “The most important reason of all.... Love.”
He blinked in disbelief. “Love?”
“Aye, majesty. We love each other.”
He snorted incredulously. “Lord Draven in love? Do you honestly expect us to believe such? As you pointed out, we have known him most of his life. Never have we witnessed him do anything without calm, deliberate contemplation without the interference of human emotions. Now you offer up some misshapen excuse for his betrayal?”
“But ‘tis true, Majesty.”
Henry laughed bitterly. “We believe you love him, for women are prone to such romantic notions. But Draven is a warrior through and through. We find it impossible that he could feel such. Nay. We will see him punished in the manner in which we promised him should he touch you.”
“And his punishment?”
Henry cocked a brow at her. “Did he not tell you?”
“Nay.”
“When he comes on the morrow he is to be hanged, drawn and quartered for treason.”
Emily felt as though she had been struck. Indeed, she wasn’t even sure how she continued to stand, for her knees were weak and her legs trembled in fear.
“Nay!” she gasped. “You cannot be serious.”
“Aye, but we are. He knew the consequences.”
Emily closed her eyes and gulped for air.
“Please, Majesty,” she implored him. “Do as you will with me, but harm him not. I beg you. You cannot do this to him.”
But he didn’t speak.
Emily sobbed out her misery as she sank to her knees in despair.
“What have I done?” She wished she had never contemplated Draven’s seduction.
“On your feet, lady.”
Emily wiped her tears away and bit her trembling lip, then rose slowly to her feet.
“You truly love him?” Henry asked.
“Aye, Majesty. More than my life.”
Henry sighed as he paced before her. “You are aware of your father’s accusations regarding Draven’s activities?”
“Aye, Majesty, but I know Draven didn’t do it.”
“And how do you know it?”
“I was with him the night Keswyk was attacked.”
“Have you proof?”
She looked to her belly.
Henry laughed. “Aye, we believe you do.”
For several minutes he paced in silence as she clenched her hands together in fear of what he might say to her, or do to Draven.
Just when she was certain her nerves could take no more of the sound of Henry’s shoes clip-clopping on the cobblestones, he spoke, “Very well, milady, we say this to you, your love of Draven is plain. If on the morrow we see proof that he loves you as well, and that his love was what motivated him to betray us, we might be swayed to mercy.”
Emily looked up as her spirit lifted.
“But,” Henry cautioned, “if we see none of it and Draven shows himself to have done nothing more than use you while you were in his care, we will see his punishment met fully and swiftly. Is that understood?”
“Aye, Majesty.”
“Now leave us.”
Emily curtsied and walked backwards from the king.
Once the doors to the hall were closed, she breathed a sigh of relief.
There was a chance! ‘Twas small, but it was enough for her to grasp.
Surely Draven would—
Emily stopped the thought as reality came crashing down on her head.
Oh, who was she fooling? Draven was a man forged of iron. Never had he shown his emotions and in all likelihood he would march through the gates stoically to take his punishment.
Emily placed her hand on her stomach and the life that was growing there.
“Please,” she prayed under her breath. “I would have a father for my babe.”