Devlin cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. “Now it makes some sense as to why the man stares at me so intently,” he said. “He recognizes me but does not know from where. I will have to be very careful, indeed.”
It was a fearful thought. Emllyn fell silent, snuggling up to Devlin and burying her face against his shoulder. His skin was so white, so warm, and immensely comforting. She would relish this memory of her body against his, his heart beating in rhythm with hers, for the rest of her life.
It was a tender and wonderful moment, one that she never wished to end. Her hands moved up his arms, to his broad shoulders, acquainting herself with the feel of him against her palms. She never knew she was capable of emotions such as this, emotions that had been developing quite steadily over the past two days. When they erupted, it was with the unbridled restraint of an exploding star and now the only thought that occupied her mind was Devlin. Her captor had managed to capture not only her body, but her heart as well, and she did not regret it.
Devlin could feel her hands moving over his skin, touching him, and it was wildly arousing. He put a finger under her chin, tipping her head up and kissing her sweetly until a knock on the door startled them both. Devlin was already out of the bed, gathering his ratty hose and tunic, heading for the mattress that was near the door. Emllyn grabbed her shift from where Devlin had tossed it, pulling it swiftly over her head.
“Who comes?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.
“Merradoc,” came the boom. “Open the door before I am set upon by cutthroats out in this corridor. It is dark and terrifying out here!”
Shift over her head, Emllyn pulled on the lovely brocade robe as she made her way to the door. “A moment, please,” she said, swiftly fastening the robe.
A glance at Devlin showed that he was fully dressed as he sat upon the mattress. He winked at her and she grinned. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she opened the door.
Merradoc barged in without a word, practically shoving her aside. When he was about half-way into the room, he sniffed the air suspiciously.
“It smells as if animals have been mating in here,” he said. “What have you…?”
He turned and caught sight of Devlin sitting on the mattress near the door. Gazing down at the big, bald man with the enormous arms, he wriggled his eyebrows. “That explains quite a bit,” he muttered, turning away from Devlin and moving for the table. Setting his satchel down, he began to rifle through it. “I do not suppose you would take my advice if I told you to refrain from, shall we say, physical activities until you are completely well?”
Emllyn couldn’t help it; she flushed a dull shade of red. She didn’t dare look at Devlin. “I do not know what you mean,” she said primly. “John is my watchdog and nothing more. He protects me from snippy old men who come banging at my door at all hours.”
Merradoc sniffled loudly, wiping at his nose to hide his grin. “Mayhap,” he conceded, “but do not let de Noble find him here.”
Emllyn didn’t have a witty response for him. She ended up looking over at Devlin, who by now had stood up and was hovering in the shadows. Their eyes met, expressions of apprehension passing between them, before Emllyn returned her attention to the old physic.
“It is none of de Noble’s business what I do,” she said. “I am not under his command.”
Merradoc was pouring a measure of the rotten tea into a cup. He handed it to her. “Drink this,” he ordered. As Emllyn made a face and downed the entire thing in one swallow, he took the cup away from her and set it aside. “Nay, it is not the man’s business, but he is no fool. He is a man of decorum and propriety. If he discovers what you and your lover have been doing, he will more than likely have something to say about it.”
Emllyn had her hand to her throat, her face twisted with disgust as the remains of the rotten tea slid down her gullet.
“You are not to worry over that,” she said, raspy from the terrible medicine. “And you will not say anything to him, do you hear?”
Merradoc snorted. “I see nothing and I hear nothing,” he said. “I am a physic, not a gossipmonger. Oh, and beware of Connaught, too. He is the suspicious type.”
Emllyn licked her lips, still overcoming the taste of the medicine. “Of me?”
Merradoc shook his head, pointing at Devlin. “Of him,” he replied. “I may not be a gossip, but I hear things. I’m not particularly fond of Connaught because the man it too self-righteous. He is also arrogant, thinking that he is with surety to be pledged to the Lady Elyse. Mayhap he will, mayhap he won’t; in any case, he believes he will be the commander of Glenteige someday. If that is the case, God help us. He does not have the patience and cunning that de Noble does.”
Devlin didn’t say a word but he was listening carefully; he often found the best intelligence came from outside observers. He was curious to know in what direction Emllyn would take the conversation.
“It matters not to me,” she finally said, turning for the table where a pitcher of wine and two cups sat. She poured herself some wine to get rid of the rotten taste. “I will be leaving soon and returning home. I am not concerned for the politics at Glenteige.”
Merradoc watched her drink. “I heard de Noble say that you would be a fine companion for his daughter,” he said quietly. “This is not gossip, mind you, for I heard him say this to the Lady Elyse. His daughter is lonely here and she has taken a liking to you. I believe that de Noble will write to your brother and ask that you remain here.”
Emllyn looked at the man. She wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that but she didn’t protest it. She was coming to think that perhaps Merradoc wasn’t as tight-lipped as he said he was, which concerned her. What she said might make it to other ears. Therefore, she didn’t react one way or the other.
“Lady Elyse is a very sweet woman,” she said neutrally, sipping at her wine. “I like her a great deal.”
Merradoc’s gaze lingered on her a moment before returning his focus to his satchel. He began packing items away. “I will return in the morning,” he said. “In the meanwhile, stay off of that leg and limit your nocturnal activities. You need your rest.”
He was looking at Devlin as he said it. But Devlin didn’t react and the old man collected his bag, pushing past the two of them on his way to the door. Hand on the big iron latch, he paused before leaving.
“I would not sleep in the same bed if I were you,” he said quietly, looking between the two of them. “Lady Elyse is an early riser and unless you want her to find you together, I would suggest you sleep in separate beds.”
Emllyn gave one last stab at maintaining a proper illusion between her and Devlin. “We most certainly will not sleep in the same bed,” she said firmly. “You are a nosy old man with unclean thoughts.”
Merradoc’s lips tugged with the beginnings of a smile. “And you, lady, smell like a man has been all over you.”
Emllyn’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know what such a thing smells like? I would wager it has been centuries since you last saw companionship.”
Merradoc snorted as he opened the door. “Mayhap, Lady Emllyn,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “Mayhap indeed. But you must be careful nonetheless.”
He shut the door softly behind him and Devlin moved over to throw the bolt, locking the door. He turned to look at Emllyn, who was still standing by the bed with a cup of wine in her hand. They stood there a moment, looking at each other, each feeling a certain measure of apprehension.
“You will not trust anyone here,” Devlin finally said, his voice soft and firm. “Especially not him.”
Emllyn nodded, downing the rest of the wine in the cup. “It is strange,” she said quietly as she set the cup down. “When I was at Black Castle, I could not trust anyone,” she said. “I was surrounded by people who considered me the enemy. Now, at Glenteige, I still cannot trust anyone even though we are allies. It is a difficult world I live in.”
Devlin could see her perspective. In many
ways, her world was more difficult than his; at least he had people he could depend on. She had no one. But she had him.
Silently, he made his way over to her and wrapped her up in his big, strong arms. Emllyn collapsed against him, her arms around his waist and her head against his chest. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. There was so much warmth and comfort between them, so much power and emotion, that it brought tears to her eyes.
“Promise me that you will not leave me here long,” she whispered. “Promise me that you will return for me very soon.”
Devlin kissed the top of her head. “I swear I will not leave you here any longer than necessary,” he said. “I want you with me and not imprisoned in this English hell. My greatest thought will be of taking you back with me to Black Castle where we both belong.”
Emllyn looked up at him, her eyes moist with unshed tears. “I told you once I did not want to be your concubine,” she murmured. “I have changed my mind. It would be an honor.”
He smiled faintly. “I would rather have you as my wife,” he said. “Would that not be a greater honor?”
“The greatest.”
He grinned and kissed her, tasting her sweetness as if he had been longing for it all of his life. To feel such a connection with someone, to feel physical pain at the thought of separation or physical excitement when their bodies touched, was an entirely new experience for him. Even now, the thought of leaving her tomorrow made him feel ill. He was dreading it.
“Then I will marry you the day we return to Black Castle,” he said. “I will cherish the day when I can call you Lady de Bermingham.”
Emllyn grinned, touching his face and watching him kiss her palms. “It will give my brother fits.”
“Does this concern you?”
“Not in the least. You are the most important thing in the world to me.” Her smile faded as her thoughts turned to the bargain they had struck back at Black Castle. It seemed so long ago now. “Dev, what of the English prisoners you still hold? Will you still kill them? Or will you let them go?”
He sobered, thinking of Trevor, the man who had literally brought them together, moldering down in his vault. “Do you still want to see if Trevor is among them?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.
“It hardly matters now.”
“Then what do you want me to do with them?”
Emllyn pondered his question seriously. “It was our bargain that you let me see the English prisoners if I came to Glenteige to discover de Cleveley’s plans against you.”
“I know.”
“I will discover what I can without need to see the prisoners. I simply do not care any longer if Trevor is with them or not.”
He debated whether or not he should tell her what he knew, but he opted not to mention that Trevor was indeed among his captives because he didn’t want anything to cloud their joy. He was selfish, he knew it, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want her to think thoughts of Trevor when she should only be thinking of him.
“Then I will put them on a boat and send them back to England,” he said quietly. “I have no more use for them. If you wish for me to spare them, then I will.”
She smiled at him; it was surely a generous offer coming from Black Sword and the importance of it was not lost on her. “You are very generous,” she said. “I am grateful.”
His smile broadened and he gazed at her steadily for several long moments. It was evident that he was pondering something. After a moment, he reached out to tenderly touch her cheek.
“My mother used to say something to me when I was young, something that I never fully understood until this moment,” he said softly. “She used to say to me, ‘Everything leads me to thee’. I was her only child and she was very attached to me, and every time she left me, even if it was just for a short while, she used to say that. ‘Everything leads me to thee.’ Now that I look at you, I understand what she meant. There isn’t a move I will make or a thought I will think that will not cause me to think of you. Everything, ultimately, will lead me to thee so when I leave on the morrow, I want you to remember that. Everything leads me to thee, and I will return for you.”
It was such a sweet sentiment. Emllyn smiled sweetly at him. “That is the most wonderful thing I have ever heard.”
“Say it for me.”
She did. “Everything leads me to thee,” she murmured.
Hearing it in her voice made him believe the words as if God himself had spoken it. Devlin kissed her forehead and her cheeks before lifting her up and carrying her over to the big, luxurious bed. He carefully laid her down and then lay down beside her. They faced each other, their first moment together on a bed when they weren’t fighting with one another or experiencing untold passion. It was just the two of them, a man and a woman, embarking on a remarkable voyage of discovery.
They talked of all things, both serious and trivial, for most of the night.
∾
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Two weeks later
Glenteige Castle
It had been thirteen days since Devlin’s return to Black Castle, but to Emllyn, it felt like a lifetime.
Seated in Elyse’s fine solar, so fine and fancy that it looked as if a queen lived there, Emllyn sat before an embroidery frame, working on a piece she had started a few days before. It was of an angel in the Garden of Eden, an ambitious piece with flowers and birds. Emllyn was very good at sewing, so she took delight in a challenge.
Emllyn had been sewing on the piece steadily since she had started it, putting angels and animals to needle when her thoughts were far away with Devlin. At the top of the piece were the five little words Devlin had said to her, words she would never forget. They were the most important words she had ever heard.
Everything leads me to thee.
This day in March was cool and dreary, as a storm had blown in off the Irish Sea and continued to drench the countryside with a heavy downpour. A fire burned brightly in the hearth as a cool and damp breeze blew in through the thin lancet windows. Emllyn sat, wrapped up in a fur-lined robe and warm slippers, as Elyse chattered continuously as she sat at her beautifully carved drawing table and sketched with charcoal. These days with Elyse were comfortable and companionable, and Emllyn had come to like her a great deal.
Elyse was quite an artist, the result of many hours of spending time alone. She had to fill the time somehow, so she had practiced her drawing and had become very proficient at it. At this moment, she was working very hard on something that Emllyn had yet to see, but she knew the woman had been working on it for a couple of days. Charcoal on parchment made for the most beautiful and emotive art. But the woman was talking so much that Emllyn was surprised she was able to get anything accomplished at all.
“… and then he told me that he did not even like for me to look at another man,” she was saying as she sketched. “Of course, I told him he was ridiculous. We are not even pledged, after all.”
Emllyn smiled weakly, glancing up from her sewing. “Has he spoken to your father yet?”
Elyse shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “I believe he feels as if it is a mere formality. After all, he is the most eligible candidate at Glenteige so I do believe he feels as if it’s understood by all that he will someday be my husband.”
Emllyn wriggled her eyebrows as she focused on her needle. “Very presumptive,” she said. “I do not like any man who assumes things before he has been given permission.”
Elyse stopped drawing and looked at her. “Nor do I,” she declared. “In fact, I have been thinking of ignoring him for a time to teach him a lesson. I’ll not come so easily to him, you know. I am not a prize to be won or a commodity to be bartered for.”
Emllyn grinned. “Are there no other eligible bachelors here other than Connaught?”
Elyse cocked her head thoughtfully as she went back to work. “Christopher has a younger brother, Drew,” she said. “He is quite handsome. But he is also quite young and quite frisky with
women, if you get my meaning. I have heard he has at least two bastards.”
Emllyn giggled. “You do not want a man with bastards,” she said. “Who else?”
Elyse was carefully shading something. “There are a couple of lesser knights,” she said. “My father has an entire stable of knights, but only a few I would even look at more than once. I suppose the reality is that Christopher is the only true marital candidate for me.”
Emllyn looked up at her. “And this displeases you?”
Elyse shrugged. “It would be nice to have more of a selection,” she said. As they giggled, her focus on Emllyn grew more intense. “And what of you? Do you have any prospects for marriage?”
Emllyn was careful in her answer. “Nay,” she said softly. “I have told you of the man I thought to marry, but he was killed.”
Elyse had heard the story of Sir Trevor, Emllyn’s one and true love, and how the man had been killed in the battle at Black Castle those weeks ago. She had tried to get more of the story out of her but Emllyn didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Although Elyse was trying to be tactful when discussing Emllyn’s recently lost love, it frustrated her to no end that the woman wouldn’t elaborate. She was very curious.
“I am sorry for you, of course,” Elyse said quietly. “But shouldn’t you think of your future, or do you plan to pine away for a dead man? You are young and beautiful, but you will not be that way forever. You must marry while you are still attractive.”
It was a harsh way of putting it but she wasn’t far wrong. Still, Emllyn shook her head. “Mayhap,” she said. “But I am not thinking of marriage now.”
“But you will someday?”
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