“What do you mean I can’t enter?” she asked Simon.
“‘Tis on Draven’s orders. I dare not cross him on this.”
“Simon, you’re supposed to be my ally.”
“I am, but I also want to keep all my teeth in my head, and he was most explicit on what he would do to me if I allowed you to cross this threshold.”
“Fine,” she said angrily. Then she raised her voice and addressed the door. “You can’t stay in there forever. Sooner or later, you will have to leave.”
As expected, no answer came. So be it.
She would win him in the end. She would!
Turning on her heel, Emily stalked down to the hall below.
Days went by as she waited for Draven’s appearance, but not once did he so much as crack open his door. She was about to give up on him when one morning found him coming down the stairs.
Emily’s heart soared at the sight of him fully clothed and heading out the door.
“Draven!” She rushed sto his side.
He ignored her.
Miffed, Emily stepped in front of him to block his path.
“Out of my way, wench. I’ve no time for foolishness.”
“Wench?” Shocked, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What is wrong?—”
“Nothing is wrong. Now go to your sewing or whatever it is you do all day.”
Emily saw red. “I beg your pardon?”
The look he gave her was so cold it froze her all the way to her toes. “Make yourself useful, but bother me not.” He stepped around her and went on his way.
An urge to strangle him consumed her and if she were a few inches taller, she might have actually attempted it.
“Fine,” she said to his departing back. “I’ll just go and do that.”
Heading back into the donjon, she summoned Denys to her. She had one more modification to the hall she wanted to make. One everyone had told her not to, but her vengeance was such that she wanted him to feel the angry betrayal that burned in her.
She had thought they had gained a friendship. But obviously she was wrong.
Fine, she didn’t need him anyway.
And, if he wanted to be so bullish, she would give it right back.
“Milady,” Beatrix begged. “Do not do this! Have them remove it before his lordship returns.”
As she’d done all afternoon, Emily ignored the housekeeper as she studied the carpenters finishing the dais. The men hammered in the last nail and moved back so that she could inspect it.
Emily ran her hand over the rough wood. It needed painting, but that could wait until the morrow. Satisfied with their work, she told Denys to pay them.
He reluctantly did so, but muttered beneath his breath the entire time. “Were I you, I’d order it destroyed before Lord Draven returns.”
Emily stood her ground. “Unless someone gives me reason, it stays.” She looked to Denys.
He shook his head and studied the floor.
