“Simon, lay the matter aside. I am bound for Lincoln. The lady is in your care until I return. I trust you can see to her safety?”
“Aye, I’ll see to her safety. But know this, Draven. You can’t run from her forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to return.”
She heard Draven pause just on the other side of her wall. “Think so? I do believe there are plans for a crusade brewing in Normandy. Perhaps?—”
“Henry would never relieve you from his service long enough to crusade and well you know it.”
“You’d be amazed what the king would do should I ask it of him.”
There were several seconds of silence before Simon spoke again. “Very well, go to Lincoln. But know this, I never thought I’d see the day you retreated from anything, least of all a mere slip of a woman.”
She turned her head to see Simon stalk angrily out of the door. No sooner had the door closed behind him than she heard Draven’s muffled words.
“And never did I think I would find a woman I wanted so badly.” He sighed wistfully. “Beauty, you’re a treacherous lure with a deadly hook, and this fish has no choice except to flee before it gets caught.”
Emily flattened herself against the wall as he descended the steps, then followed after his brother.
For several minutes, she just stood there sifting through his words.
“And never did I think I would find a woman I wanted so badly.”
Unlike Theodore who constantly accosted her with such words, Lord Draven’s were special for he had never intended another soul to hear them. A strange tenderness came to her. One she couldn’t define, and she wasn’t really sure why she felt it.
They were just words. And yet...
They were special.
Emily smiled. If he truly felt that, then she stood a hope of her goal.
But not if she let him get away.
Six
“Milord?”
Draven turned from his horse at Emily’s voice. Of all the wretched luck! One minute more and he would have been mounted and out of her reach.
“Milady?” he asked in a voice that bordered between confounded ire and pleasantry.
She came to rest in front of him, and looked questioningly at his packed horse. “You’re leaving?”
“I have duties in Lincoln.”
“Lincoln?” she repeated, her eyes wide and terribly beguiling. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to Lincoln. I’ve heard they have a most wondrous fair there this time of year.”
“They do,” Simon said as he came up behind her.
She turned to look at him over her shoulder.
Simon stared pointedly at Draven as he continued, “One of the largest in the region.”
“Truly?” She looked back at Draven.
“A fair is a fair,” Draven groused, aggravated that Simon would dare attempt to manipulate him thusly. “You can’t tell one from another.”
She looked alluring, provocative, and so sweet he wanted nothing more than to take a gentle nip of her skin to see if indeed she was coated in honey, or if the light golden glow was merely the true color of her skin.
“I wouldn’t know, milord,” she said softly. “I have never been to a fair.”
