Chapter Three #2
Emllyn thought on that a moment. Devlin had told her that he was the Lord of Black Castle, so she should have supposed that was where she found herself – at Black Castle.
She had heard the name from her brother, something about a rally point for the rebellion on his Irish holdings, and it began to make a good deal of sense.
Black Castle.
She was in the belly of the beast.
True, she had known that the ship she stowed away on was headed for battle but she hadn’t known precisely where.
That had been foolish on her part, she knew, but it didn’t matter now.
What was done, was done. Her idiocy had landed her in the middle of the Irish rebellion, in the very stronghold that was the heart of the resistance.
Realizing that, she closed her eyes at the truth of what she had gotten herself into and she turned away.
“My thanks,” she murmured.
Enda eyed the woman’s lowered head. She felt some pity for the young woman but she couldn’t let it interfere with her duty. Grabbing Nessa by the arm, she shooed the girl out and, collecting the rest of the things she had brought with her, quietly closed the door behind her.
Emllyn heard the door shut, turning to see that she was alone in the room once more. It was much warmer, and far better furnished, than it had been earlier, lending to a somewhat comfortable feeling, but the truth was that it was still her prison no matter how it was dressed up.
Oh, God, she thought to herself, looking around the room and feeling more despair than she ever had.
The past night and day had passed in somewhat of a blur, as if she were living a nightmare, but now the nightmare had vanished and all it left in its wake was a heady sense of reality.
Now, everything was real and terrible. She was in Ireland, captive in an Irish castle.
She knew it was only a matter of time before Devlin did something she would sorely regret.
Truth be told, the man wasn’t unpleasant to look at.
There was something powerful and virile about him, something that made her feel the least bit giddy along with her fear.
But she would not think that way about him.
She couldn’t think that way about him. But visions of de Bermingham inevitably gave way to the very reason why she was here.
Trevor.
Dear God, what had become of him? De Bermingham said that he had been killed, but how did he know?
He wouldn’t let her see the prisoners for herself, so there was every chance that Trevor was alive…
and every equal chance that he was dead.
The thought of his demise devastated her but after all she had seen last night, the death and destruction, she realized that she was very fortunate to be alive and more inclined to think of her own safety at the moment.
She couldn’t spare any more tears for Trevor, not now.
She had to stay alive if there was any chance of discovering his fate.
And the only person who held the power to grant her request was, in fact, de Bermingham.
Deception.
If de Bermingham was the man who had the power over life and death, then perhaps she needed to give the man all of the respect he demanded in order to gain his permission to see the English captives.
Perhaps if she was to be compliant and obedient, then he might grant her wish.
But to be compliant and obedient with him would mean surrendering to his will.
The mere thought of it made her feel hot all over, a heat that was unfamiliar and consuming.
It was not as if she had any real choice in the matter, but perhaps a willing captive might make him more apt to grant her request. Perhaps she was going to have to play his game in order to gain her wants.
Compliance.
Emllyn was in the process of concocting a plan when the chamber door rattled and popped open.
Startled, she looked up to see Devlin in the doorway.
He was dressed in black leather breeches, a faded tunic, and a heavy black leather vest that strained against his muscular chest. He just stood there, gazing at her with that same hard and intimidating expression she had seen before, yet…
there was something else there, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
His eyes, so deep and blue, seemed to have an odd glimmer to them.
It was an oddness that unnerved her and Emllyn rose slowly from the stool, facing him nervously. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears, waiting for him to reach out and grab her with those massive hands.
Compliant! Her mind screamed. You must be compliant!
“My lord,” she greeted, her voice quivering.
He didn’t reply but his gaze moved to the garments she was wearing. He seemed to focus on the clothes.
“Enda said she brought you my mother’s old coats,” he said, looking her up and down. “They are much too big for you.”
Emllyn looked down at herself. “They will do nicely,” she said. “They are warm and clean.”
“And big,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door. “My mother was three times your size. She was a very big woman.”
Emllyn fingered the green wool, not sure what to say to that because she was fearful of insulting his mother with anything she said.
“I find them quite suitable,” she said, looking up at him. “Thank you for your generosity.”
He grunted, looking around the room and noticing the hides on the bed. “So she brought you something to sleep on as well,” he said, moving to the bed and flipping up the hides to inspect the quality. “These should do you nicely.”
Emllyn looked at the bed and the fluffy sheep’s hides. “I thank you again for your generosity,” she said. “I am grateful for the consideration.”
He looked at her, then. If he thought she was being too compliant, he didn’t say so. He simply continued to look at her.
“Were you well fed?” he asked.
Emllyn nodded firmly. “I was, thank you.”
Devlin’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer before scratching his red head and easing his big body down onto the bed. The last time he was here, they’d had a rather violent encounter. But he’d also experienced attraction like he’d never known. It was an odd combination to say the least.
Emllyn hovered near the hearth, waiting for the next move, wondering if she was going to end up on the bed again with her clothes ripped off. When Devlin suddenly shifted on the bed, she jumped, but he didn’t notice. He seemed distracted.
“I will ask you a question and you will answer me truthfully,” he finally said, looking up at her. “Anything less than truth will be swiftly punished. Is that clear?”
Fear began to clutch at her. “It is, my lord.”
He sighed heavily as he collected his thoughts. “I have spent most of the day observing the results of last night’s victory,” he said. “Your brother’s ships are now my ships and his men are either dead or my captives. This was a resounding defeat for your brother. Do you understand that?”
“I do.”
“You will tell me what you know of his further intentions to attack me,” he said, his voice low. “Your brother did not send all of the men he has. Surely there are more to come.”
Emllyn blinked, stumped by the statement. “I… I would not know, my lord,” she said honestly. “My brother did not share his military plans with me.”
Devlin cocked an eyebrow. “Yet you knew enough to stow away on a ship bound for Ireland,” he said. “You knew ships were sailing and you knew where they were going. You know more than you are telling me.”
Emllyn shook her head firmly. Then she gave a rather ironic chuckle.
“My lord, you must understand that my brother and I were never close,” she said.
“He is much older than I am and we did not even grow up in the same house. He was away when I was born and when I was sent away to foster, I did not see him for almost seven years. He views me as I view him – as a distant relative. He resents me a great deal because I am twenty years of age and not yet married. He has been trying to find me a husband for years but our father left a stipulation in his will stating that I was allowed to approve or disapprove of any husband selected for me. So far, the man has selected only fools and I have not yet married. Therefore, I believe he views me as a drain on his household finances.”
It was a well-spoken and frank statement. Devlin believed her. “Yet you stowed away on a ship bound for battle because you wanted to be near your lover,” he pointed out. “Did your brother know you loved this man?”
Emllyn nodded. “He did,” she replied, “but Trevor comes from a family that does not have a great deal of wealth. My brother wants me to have a wealthy husband so he naturally disapproves.”
Devlin pondered the information but as he did so, he was coming to see one thing – when she wasn’t hysterical or fighting, she was very well spoken and quite eloquent.
She had a beautiful manner about her, something he found quite attractive.
Dressed as she was in clean clothes and her hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, he’d never seen such a lovely woman and with that realization, he was coming to feel extremely guilty about the way he had treated her.
She was elegant and intelligent; fear, battle, and the situation had turned her into something quite different, but now by the calm light of the fire and in a calm conversation, he could see what a glorious creature she was.
“Does Trevor want to marry you, then?” he asked quietly. “Surely the man would want to.”
Emllyn actually smiled, but it wasn’t one of joy.
It was one of resignation. “I believe he is in love with the knighthood more than me,” she said.
“That is why I stowed away; I wanted to come with him to prove I was strong and able. I wanted to prove I was not a pampered lady, which he detests. He likes a capable woman.”