Emily wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her father’s face turned even redder, his eyes darker. It was only then she caught the handsome knight’s name.
Surely, he wasn’t the Draven de Montague, Earl of Ravenswood. The man her father had gone to the king to have Henry censure?
Why on earth would they be riding together? Given her father’s hatred of the earl, she couldn’t imagine it.
Something odd was afoot here, and she couldn’t wait to get her father alone to find out just what was going on.
Her father’s eyes softened as he looked at her. “Did Theodore hurt you, Em?”
Theodore stiffened. “I would never harm a lady.” His eyes, however, told another story. She could see pure malice there, and she silently vowed to make sure he never caught her alone again.
Still, Emily was never one to be intimidated. She could handle him well enough, with or without a chicken.
“I am fine, Father,” she assured him.
“‘Tis the chicken he terrified,” the earl said wryly.
Emily bit her lip to keep from laughing again as she gazed past her father’s shoulder to see the earl whose face bore no trace of humor.
Her father’s nostrils flared.
Emily threw her arms around her father and hugged him tightly. The last thing she wanted was for him to be angry the instant he came home. He’d spent far too much time brooding and miserable. Besides, she hated to see anyone unhappy. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did you have a pleasant journey?”
“A journey to hell would have been more pleasurable,” he muttered.
Her father cast a feral glare back to the knights on horseback. “You might as well stay the night. You can leave first thing on the morrow.”
Lord Draven narrowed his gaze on her father. “I make it my habit not to lie down with my enemies. We shall camp outside your walls.” His gaze turned even icier. “We will leave at first light. I would counsel you to have everything in order.”
And with that, the earl wheeled his horse about and led all but two royal messengers and her father’s three knights from the bailey.
Theodore excused himself and made a dripping trail toward the stable.
Emily looked to her father. Something wasn’t right about any of this. “Father?”
He sighed and draped a weary arm around her shoulders. “Come, my precious Em. I needs speak with you alone.”
Draven and his men found a small clearing just beyond the castle’s gate where a small stream provided fresh water. Left alone as was his preference, he brushed his horse while his men prepared tents and his brother, Simon, started a fire.
Still, he couldn’t get the sight of Hugh’s daughter from his mind. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could see her as plainly as he had when she’d stood before them, her face alight and smiling, and her dark green eyes shining in mischief.
And the chicken....
He almost laughed in spite of himself. Until her smiling face drifted before him again. Grinding his teeth, he tightened his grip on the brush.
Beautiful didn’t do the girl justice. There were truly no words to describe what he’d just witnessed. She was slender with a wealth of curly blond hair that fell to her hips. He doubted if the very angels in heaven had a face that was so soft and alluring. No wonder Hugh had balked at the thought of letting her go. A treasure so priceless should be guarded with care and in spite of himself, he felt a tiny degree of respect for a man who would try to protect his child.
Goliath reared his head and snorted.
“Sorry, boy,” he said as he realized he’d been brushing the same spot far too long. Draven gave a gentle pat to the horse’s flank to soothe his thoughtlessness. It wasn’t like him to be careless with his animals, and he hoped he hadn’t caused a sore spot by his daydreaming.
Pushing the girl from his thoughts, he continued his chores.
He was adding oats to his horse’s feed sack when Simon approached.
“Not what you expected?” his brother asked.
“The feed sack?” he responded in a deliberate effort to keep his brother from broaching a most disturbing subject. “‘Tis the same as it ever was.”
