Emily waited for several minutes. When it became apparent Christina wouldn’t speak, she offered a word for her, “Gruff?”
“Aye,” Christina agreed.
“And moody?”
“Aye.”
Emily waited, watching her friend struggle as if trying to find another word to describe Draven. “And distant?”
“Aye.”
Impishly, she added, “Strange?”
“Definitely.”
Emily tossed the pillow at her. “No aye?”
Christina smiled and tucked the pillow behind her back. “I was growing bored.”
Emily laughed. “He is not so strange.”
“You think not? Orrick says in battle Lord Draven becomes crazed. That he plows through men like a ploughshare over snow.”
“I would think in battle that would be a virtue.”
“In battle mayhap, but what if he does it at home as well?”
Emily arched her brow in question. “What, plough snow?”
“Emily! You’re being deliberately obtuse.”
“I know what you’re saying.” Emily sighed. “But I have never seen him lose patience with anyone.”
“You just met him,” Christina reminded her.
“I know. It’s just there’s something about him that makes me feel all...” She bit her lip trying to think of the words. “Strange inside.”
Christina gave a knowing smile. “You’ve not been around many men, Em, and I doubt you’ve ever been around one such as he.”
“You’re right about that.”
“You have an infatuation, I suspect.”
“Infatuated? Me?” Emily laughed. “Now who’s being ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous.” Christina stabbed her needle through the linen. “It’s that tingly warm, giddy feeling you get when you look at a really handsome man.”
“I know the definition of it.”
“Aye, but you’ve never felt it, I wager. How could you? Your father has never allowed a handsome man into his castle for fear of it.”
That was true enough. Niles looked more like a wooly bear than a man. He was two inches shorter than Joanne and about as thick as an oak tree with wiry brown hair and a thick beard. She’d never understood her sister’s attraction to him.
Emily frowned as she considered Christina’s words. Could her own feelings be something so simple as a mere infatuation? “Perhaps. But what of you and Orrick?”
Christina shrugged.
“Nay, don’t you dare get tight-lipped around me. Especially since I am forced to live with the king of tight-lips.”
