Or was it all just a ruse?
“Are you doing this in hopes of gaining a husband?”
“Nay, Draven.” Her voice was thick and chiding. “I do this for you as I would for any friend I care about. I told you the day you brought me here that I bore you no animosity, and I meant it.”
He swallowed at the hurt he saw reflected in her eyes. He had been wrong to accuse her of deception and he regretted his words. “Then I owe you an apology, Emily. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t know how to treat a friend. Having never had one, I’m not sure how to behave around one.”
Her smile took his breath. “You’re forgiven.”
She piled more pillows up behind him and helped him lean back against them.
Draven sipped at the ale as she retook her seat and retrieved a small cloth she had been stitching.
A strange feeling came over him. It was such an intimate moment. One a lord might share with his wife. The type of moment he had never thought to experience.
And in that instant, he discovered that he liked it.
Nay, that he craved it more than he had ever craved anything in his life.
He closed his eyes against the wave of longing that crashed through him. This was not his to feel. She was not his to covet. He could never have her and wishing for it was wrong.
Draining the ale, he set it aside and sought a way to drag his thoughts away from her.
“Did my men find the ones responsible?”
She shook her head as she made a tiny stitch. “They gave chase to two men, but they escaped.”
Emily stretched the thread tight and bit it in twain with her teeth. “Simon still believes my father responsible. Have you changed your mind?”
“Nay. As I said, your father might hate me to the depth of his soul, but he’d never have taken a chance with your life.”
By her expression, he could tell his words pleased her and it gave him much more satisfaction than it should have.
“Have you any idea who else?” She picked up another color of thread, placed it in her mouth to moisten it, then threaded it through her needle.
Draven sighed as he diverted his gaze from her perfectly white teeth. “Unfortunately, my list of enemies is long and plentiful. It could have been most anyone.”
“Aye, but it was someone who wanted you to blame my father.” She set her sewing aside. “I think whoever it was is also the person who attacked your village and my father’s.”
“Emily—”
“Nay, hear me out. My cousin told me he fought someone wearing your surcoat on the night my father’s village was attacked. He wounded the man he thought was you.”
Draven frowned. “Why would someone do such a thing?”
She shook her head. “I know not, but my guess is it would be someone who could profit by both your deaths.”
“There’s no one who could do that.”
“Then I’m out of ideas.”
Draven snorted. “That I find hard to believe, knowing you as I do.”
She laughed as she retrieved her sewing from the floor and leaned back in the chair with it.
They were silent for several minutes while Draven enjoyed the peace of sharing the solitude with her.
“Know you how many knights it takes to extinguish a candle?”
