The king turned toward her father. “Hugh?”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “What of my lands he destroyed?”
Henry folded his arms over his chest. “Tell us what you worry over more, your precious lands or the fact your grandchild will be born the bastard child of a man executed for treason?”
Hugh approached Draven with his lips curled. “I still have no use for you.”
Draven held his tongue.
“What?” Hugh asked in disbelief, “No clever retort, Ravenswood? Never have I known you to not return insult with insult.”
Draven didn’t look at Hugh, his gaze was held enthrall by the woman he loved who carried his child. “I would not hurt Emily by insulting you, Hugh. For whatever reason she loves me, she loves you as well, and that is enough for me to respect you.”
Hugh snorted. “I can’t say I approve of this match, but for the sake of my daughter, I shall abide with whatever terms his majesty decrees.”
Henry nodded. “‘Tis good then. Hugh, fetch his brother and his clothes from outside your walls, and a priest. Let us see these two wed before the day ends.”
“Thank you, majesty,” Emily said.
“Don’t thank us yet, milady, for there is still the matter of his punishment.”
Draven looked back at Henry.
He saw the sadness in Henry’s eyes, but Draven expected little in the way of mercy.
“You have always been a loyal servant to us,” Henry said, “and so we trust you understand why it is we cannot give you full immunity.”
“Aye, sire. I didn’t expect clemency of any sort.”
Emily gasped. “But?—”
Draven shook his head at her, cutting her words off.
Henry narrowed his gaze on both of them. “After the wedding, Draven is to be given twenty lashes for his disobedience.”
Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Draven placed a finger over her lips.
Henry walked toward Hugh. “Come and let us find that priest.”
At the door, Henry turned back to face him. “Draven?”
“Aye, sire?”
“We hope this time when you swear a holy oath you have better luck keeping your vow.”
“I shall have no trouble whatsoever, sire.”
“We didn’t think so.”
When they were left alone, Emily looked up at him. “Twenty lashes, Draven, I am so sorry.”
“Believe me, twenty lashes is much better than the alternative.” Tenderly, he placed his hand against her stomach, marveling at what he saw. “Why did you not tell me?”
Her eyes were bright as she smiled up at him. “I wanted to, but there was no one who would take a bribe to deliver the news. They feared my father’s wrath.”
Then he pulled her into his arms. Emily felt so wonderful there, especially the rounded part of her that rubbed against his stomach.
“Come wench,” he whispered in her ear. “While they are occupied elsewhere what say we find a quiet place where I can show you how much I’ve missed you.”
