“But you saved the king’s life as well,” she insisted. “Will he not forgive you?”
He considered her words. But he knew the truth. Unwilling to hurt her, he said quietly, “Perhaps he might. I can go to him and ask.”
All of a sudden, her face lit up and she raised herself up to look down at him. “I am the king’s ward, correct?”
“Aye.”
“Then as such can he not give permission for my hand?”
“Aye.”
“Then my father would have no choice but to allow our marriage.” Emily smiled and laid back down on his chest. “All will be fine. You will see. The king shall forgive you and my father will learn to accept our union.”
Draven returned to stroking her hair. What he failed to tell her was Henry’s departing words to him.
“Mar her maidenhead, Draven, and we will see you hanged, drawn and quartered for it. ‘Tis our honor you represent. Tarnish it and suffer the consequences.”
He didn’t delude himself for a moment that Henry would forgive him. He knew better. He’d known better the moment he swept her up in his arms and carried her to his room. But that hadn’t mattered to him. He had wanted her and so he had taken her.
His one moment of pleasure with her came at a high price indeed.
Sixteen
Draven wanted to spend the rest of the day in her arms, but didn’t dare. There were too many people around who could easily get word to her father. Not that he feared for himself, far from it. He had accepted the possibility of dying young the first day he held a sword in his hand.
But he refused to see Emily harmed for his actions.
He left her with a kiss, then dressed and went to find Simon.
And find him he did. Simon was waiting for him in the hall with a look on his face as if Draven were the angel of death come to claim his unrepentant soul.
“You took her, didn’t you?” he asked as soon as Draven drew near.
“Is that not what you wanted?”
Simon looked away sheepishly. “Since when have you ever listened to me?”
“It appears today.”
Anguish contorted Simon’s face. “I didn’t mean for you to take her. I thought you would marry her first. ‘Twas my intent. Now what are you to do?”
“She wants me to send word to Henry and ask if he’ll sanction a wedding.”
“Will he?”
Draven looked at him. It would do no good to lie, besides he had never done such. Nor would he ever tell a falsehood to his brother. “What think you?”
“Henry can be reasonable at times.”
Draven snorted. “You mean capricious. If I catch him in the right mood, ‘tis possible he might forget what he said.”
“And how likely is that?”
Draven heaved a weary sigh. “Not, I’m afraid. He will see my actions as a personal betrayal against him since I am his champion.”
Simon hung his head. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“Easy, Simon.” He clapped him on the back. “You didn’t get me into this. I did. I knew the repercussions and I made the choice.” Draven smiled at the memory of her in his arms. “If it makes you feel better though, she is well worth it.”
