Emily clamped her hand over her mouth as she stared at the damage she had wrought to him.
“Oh, Draven, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll wash,” he said, but at the moment he looked even greener about his gills than she felt. “Are you better?”
She nodded. “‘Tis the babe.”
Draven wrung his hands out. “How many more mornings should I prepare myself for this type of greeting?”
“I know not,” she answered truthfully. “My mother’s sickness lasted throughout all her pregnancies.”
She looked past his shoulder to see her father standing a few feet behind Draven.
“Fetch a bath for Ravenswood,” he called to one of the servants. “And a strong bar of soap.”
Emily stifled her laughter.
Draven sighed. “Go ahead and laugh. I would if I weren’t the one covered.”
Guilt consumed her as she led him back upstairs to bathe and change his clothes.
To his credit, Draven said nothing more about the incident as she helped him bathe and redress.
They had just rejoined Henry and her father in the hall when a peasant came running into the hall, panting.
The youth gasped for breath, his brow split and bleeding. “My lord,” he said to her father. “You must come quickly. Falswyth is under attack.”
Her father shot to his feet. “Who dares such?”
“‘Tis the earl of Ravenswood.”
Every eye in the hall turned to Draven.
Her father looked back at the messenger. “And how do you know?”
“I heard one of his men address him as such right before I was struck.”
“Prepare my troops,” her father called, seizing his sword from its resting place above the mantle behind him. “We will find the one who claims to be Ravenswood and put a stop to his activities for once and for all.”
As her father’s men scurried from the hall, Draven gathered his own knights.
“Wait.” She seized his arm. “You can’t go. You’re hurt.”
Draven shook his head. “I will not stay here while someone mars my name. I will have the villain’s head for this.”
She wanted to argue, but the stubborn set of his jaw told her it would be a waste of breath.
Instead, she went to her father. “My husband rides with you. I pray you to guard his back.”
Her father nodded grimly and touched her arm.
Side by side, the two men she loved most strode from the hall, leaving her alone with the king and his entourage.
Draven felt Hugh’s mistrust as they neared their horses. “You still think me responsible?”
“Until I see otherwise with my own eyes, aye.”
Draven clenched his teeth. Her father would never accept him. So be it. He’d never been one to ask for acceptance.
