Master of Desire Page 3

  “Nor I,” Emily breathed. “I know I should be afraid, but—”

  “You’re excited,” Joanne finished for her. “I would be too. Imagine”—she glanced around the tapestried walls surrounding them—“leaving this place for an entire year. I know how much you’ve always wanted to.”

  Emily nodded, her heart pounding at the thought. “I had always hoped it would be my husband who led me away. But I fear I lacked your courage to force Father’s hand.”

  Joanne’s face became a mask of horror. “You should be grateful for your good sense. I daresay I thought Father would kill the two of us after he found us.”

  Emily knew her words for fact. Their mother and two elder sisters had all died in childbirth, and since her sister Anna had died nine years past, her father had sworn that no man would take the life of another of his girls.

  From that day forward, he had locked his gate against any man who would play suitor to them, forcing her sister Judith to join a convent to escape his watchful care.

  Niles had been allowed inside only because their father had assumed she and Joanne would never find the baron attractive. In truth, Emily didn’t know why Joanne had taken a fancy to him, other than the fact he wasn’t married.

  Niles was a bear of a man with a cruel tilt to his mouth, who seemed to enjoy bullying those around him. Many times she had confided in Joanne her thoughts, but Joanne dismissed her as foolish, saying that Niles treated her with only the greatest regard.

  Still, Emily couldn’t shake her misgivings about the man.

  Not that it mattered. Joanne was determined to have a husband, and Niles seemed determined to have Joanne’s dower property, which bordered his own outside York.

  Joanne reached out and touched her hand. “I know Father is difficult. But it is only his love for us that makes him so protective.”

  “Loves us so that we are treated like the birds in his mews. Forever kept locked in a cage without hope of freedom.”

  Joanne squeezed her hand. “He is a harsh, unyielding man, but his heart is good. You can’t fault him for that.”

  Emily cocked an eyebrow at her sister’s words. “This from the woman who railed against him just weeks ago when he refused Niles’s offer for your hand?”

  Joanne smiled sheepishly. “You are right. I hated him then, for I knew if Niles got away, there would be no other man to offer for me. I am long past a marriageable age.”

  “And I am fast passing it myself. How many men would have a bride at a score and two years?”

  “Not many,” Joanne agreed.

  “Aye, not many.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes while they finished packing her last trunk. Emily allowed her thoughts to drift.

  All her life she’d had but one dream—to be a wife and mother. Her father’s adamant refusal to see her wed had long vexed her. But for the coming year, she would be out of her father’s direct control, and if she—

  “What?” Joanne asked, her voice thick with apprehension.

  Emily blinked at the intrusion on her thoughts. “What what?” she repeated.

  “What were you thinking?” Joanne asked. “By the look on your face, I would say ’tis not something you should have been thinking.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I know that look, Em, ’tis the same one you had just before you locked poor Godfried in the garderobe.”

  “He deserved it,” she said defensively, even though she took pride in the memory of the deed. Her cousin Godfried had been in residence only a sennight when they had declared war on each other. In those days, she hadn’t cared much for him, and to have him fostered at her home where he had been free to mock her at will…

  Well, his two-hour stint in the garderobe had taught him well she wasn’t one to be picked on with impunity. He had treated her much more kindly from that day forward.

  “’Tis also the same look you had just before you set father’s prized gyrfalcon free.”

  Now that had not turned out so well. No older than five at the time, she still swore she could feel the sting of her father’s hand across her backside. He had not been happy when he learned she had felt sorry for his caged falcon and set it loose.

  “Every time I have seen that look upon your face, mischief always followed. I can only shudder at what it heralds now.”

  Emily dismissed Joanne’s words with a wave of her hand. “Perhaps it heralds a way to have what I have always wanted.”

  “And that is?”

  Emily looked askance at her. “Do you think the earl of Ravenswood is as evil as Father claims?”

  Joanne frowned. “What are you thinking?”

  Emily shrugged away her concern. “I was thinking that Lord Draven might be the rose I’ve been seeking.”

  “Oh, sister, please I beg you. Do not think that which I know you are thinking. You have heard the stories same as I. They say he killed his own father just for pleasure.”

  “Perhaps that is just a rumor, like the one calling Father a barbarous traitor. You said yourself that Father is a harsh man with a kind heart.”

  “Harsh, aye, but I have heard the earl of Ravenswood is mad. You have heard such tales yourself. That he is a demon who never sleeps. They say the devil himself has cleared a spot to the right hand of his throne in expectation of the day Lord Draven will join him.”

  Emily felt her hopes deflate as she considered it further. “Nay, you are right. ’Tis a foolish idea. I shall spend a year with a madman, then return here to finish out my life in solitary company.”

  A single tear fled down her cheek.

  Joanne reached out and brushed the tear away. “Don’t cry, Em. Someday your rose will come for you on the back of his white charger. He’ll face Father’s wrath and triumph, then take you away from here just as Niles is doing with me.”

  “But I want children,” she whispered. “If he waits much longer, I shall be too old to enjoy them, or else see them grown. It’s so unfair!”

  Joanne pulled her into a tight hug. “I know, little sister. I wish I could spend the year in your place. But the time will pass, and I promise when it does I shall beg Father to let you come stay with me for a time. We will find you a husband then. I promise you.”

  Emily hugged her sister tightly. “Just promise me it won’t be Theodore.”

  Joanne laughed softly.

  They sat in silence for several minutes, until Emily heard footsteps shuffling outside. “I will kill him, if it is the last thing I do! I shall gouge out his eyes and grind them to dust. No man shall have my Em!

  “By God’s right arm, she is all I have left and I will not see her gone. Do you hear me?” he shouted angrily. “No one will take my youngest babe from me! Never!”

  Emily’s throat grew tight as her father made his way to the garderobe.

  Closing her eyes, Emily realized how futile it would be to hope her father would wait out the year. There was no way under heaven he would ever leave her in the clutches of his enemy with nothing more than that man’s oath to secure her welfare. He loved her too much and trusted Draven too little.

  They locked concerned gazes.

  “What are we to do?” Joanne asked fearfully.

  Emily bit her lip as she tried to think of something. “I will have to find some way to get Lord Draven to marry me before Father attacks him,” she said slowly.

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I have to.”

  “But Emily—”

  “But nothing, Joanne. If Father attacks, he’ll lose everything. Including your dowry.”

  Joanne covered her mouth with her hand as the full horror dawned on her. “We’ll be outcasts,” she whispered. “Niles will cast me aside without my dower lands.”

  “Aye, and we’ll have no one to shelter us. Already the king hates Father for what he did under King Stephen’s reign. I should think he’d like nothing better than to see us all out on our ears.”

  “Oh, Lord, Emily. This is too frightening to c
ontemplate. You can’t marry a madman.”

  “What choice have I?”

  Joanne shook her head. “There must be another way. Besides, why would Lord Draven want you?”

  Emily dropped her jaw, offended to her very core at her sister’s words.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Joanne said quickly as she folded Emily’s underkirtle. “But you know what father says of him. The man has never married, and to my knowledge no woman has ever caught his eye. It does bear mentioning that he may not be bent to feminine company, that he prefers other men. Indeed it could be that very reason that King Henry didn’t order him to marry you as opposed to just being his ward.”

  Emily shook her head. “Nay, I don’t think so. Not from the look he gave me this afternoon. Besides, Father said the king refused the marriage solution lest it cause more war between them. Henry tried that settlement last year between two other nobles and it was disastrous.”

  “Which brings up my next point; you are the daughter of his enemy,” Joanne continued. “Not to mention that if Lord Draven touches you the king will have his head for it.”

  Emily considered it for a moment. “Do you believe the king would kill him for touching me?”

  “Why should I doubt it? Henry is a man of his word.”

  “Perhaps, but would he dare take the life of one of his champions over a mere dalliance? Father betrayed him far worse than that, and the king did nothing more than fine him and confiscate part of his holdings. Do you not think Lord Draven could petition the king for my hand and be forgiven?”

  “The king did more to Father than just a little fine and confiscation, Em.”

  “I know, but the point is, the king didn’t kill Father for his actions. Or harm him beyond repair.”

  Joanne sat back on her heels as she thought the matter over. “I don’t know if the king would forgive him. ’Tis possible, perhaps.”

  “What choice do we have?” Emily asked.

  “But Em, do you understand the full impact of what you’re thinking? Lord Draven is an enemy to Father. To the father who has sworn he’ll never allow you to marry and leave him.”

  “Aye, I understand. But I want a husband and I want children.”

  “And if Lord Draven wants no wife?”

  “Then I will make him want one.”

  Joanne gave a short laugh. “You are so very stubborn. I pity Lord Draven for having to contend with you. But promise me one thing?”

  “Aye?”

  Joanne’s face grew taut and serious. “If you see he is cruel, then I beg you rethink this scheme. I know how much you want children, but the last thing I would have is you married to a man who beats you. Better I should be thrown to the streets of London than see you sacrificed to a monster.”

  Emily nodded gravely. “I promise.”

  Dawn came all too soon to Emily, who met it with a mixture of tiredness, hidden tears, and excitement for the unknown. She entered the great hall where her father waited still awake. Drunk, but awake.

  ’Twas the first time in her life she had seen him in his cups. At this moment, his face bore all the traces of a man who had lived a warrior’s hard life.

  She approached his chair, where he sat on the raised dais. “I’ll kill him!” he slurred as he focused a bloodshot gaze on her. The stench of ale overwhelmed her. “If it’s the last thing I ever do I will tear down his walls and hang him from the tallest tree I can find. I’ll carve his heart out and feed it to the…the wolves…or maybe mice.”

  He hiccupped and looked at his favorite hound, whose head rested in his lap. “What would hurt more? A mouse or a wolf? If a wolf—”

  “You need to get some sleep,” she said, interrupting him.

  “I won’t sleep until you return to me where I can keep you safe.”

  He reached out a gentle hand to touch her face, and she saw the tears spring into his eyes. “I can’t lose you, Em. You look just like your mother-fair.” He touched her hair and his eyes grew even mistier. “’Twould be like losing Marian all over again, and I could never survive that. Had it not been for you girls, I wouldn’t have survived her passing.”

  “I know,” she whispered. Never in her life had she doubted the fact that her father loved his daughters, or the fact that he would die to protect them. She just wished he had learned to let them go.

  Joanne entered the room from the small door to the right of the table. She held a large basket in her hands, and her eyes were red and bright from her tears. None of them had slept, and Emily wondered if her own eyes had the same purple ring beneath them.

  “I know ’tis only a day’s ride, but still I packed you something to eat for the trip.”

  Emily smiled at Joanne’s kindness as she took the basket from her. She was quite sure her sister had shown her usual diligence and prepared enough food to feed a small army. “I shall miss you terribly.”

  Joanne hugged her close as Emily held on to her. She and Joanne had never been apart before. They were closer than just sisters, they were best friends.

  “It will be all right, Joanne, I swear it. You shall see, in a year we will laugh over this.”

  “I hope so,” Joanne breathed. “It won’t be the same without you here.”

  Tears stung the back of her eyes, but Emily refused to let them fall anymore. She must be strong for her family. Though the youngest, she was the one who had always been strong for them all.

  “Just think,” she said in an effort to cheer Joanne, “in a few weeks you won’t even be here to miss me. You’ll have your own household to run. Now, please, make Father go to bed.”

  Joanne nodded, then pulled back. Tears streamed down her face again, and she could tell her sister had passed the point of being able to speak.

  Her own throat tight, Emily brushed a stray tendril of blond hair off Joanne’s temple. “May God watch over you while I’m gone.”

  Joanne grabbed her hand and sobbed as if her heart were breaking. Wishing she could give such rein to her emotions, Emily kissed her sister’s cheek, then gently extracted her hand. “All shall be fine, you will see.”

  She turned to wish her father well, only to discover he had finally passed out. Approaching his chair again, she touched his whiskered face.

  “I know you love me, Father. I never doubted it. But we are grown women and you must let us live our lives for ourselves,” she whispered. “Please forgive me for what I do. I’d never do anything to hurt you, and I pray one day you’ll understand.” She brushed her lips across his forehead, then turned about and left the hall.

  With a deep breath to fortify her courage, Emily took one last look at the only home she had ever known, then made her way to the door and down the stairs, where her entourage waited.

  One of the king’s messengers came forward to help her mount her horse.

  Thanking him for the kindness, she watched as her maid, Alys, climbed aboard the first wagon and took a seat.

  The messenger returned to his horse, and once he mounted, they were on their way.

  Lord Draven and his men were waiting for them on the other side of the gate. His helm was in place and she found it disturbing that she couldn’t see his face.

  She could, however, hear his muffled curse as he spied the three wagons behind her.

  “Did you pack the entire castle?” he demanded.

  “I packed what was necessary.”

  Laughter rang out from the knight to the right of Lord Draven. His black surcoat bore a golden raven that was only slightly different from Lord Draven’s.

  “Shut up, Simon, before I run you through,” Lord Draven snapped.

  The one called Simon removed his helm and cast a glowing smile in her direction. He was every bit as handsome as Lord Draven, but his looks were entirely different and he lacked that raw, primal charisma that his brother seemed to excrete from every pore. Simon’s red hair was just a shade darker than a pumpkin and his blue eyes twinkled in easygoing friendship. He wore a small, well-trimmed beard.
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  Kicking his horse forward, he paused by her side. “Allow me to present myself, milady,” he said charmingly. “I am Simon of Ravenswood, brother to the ogre, and your most fervent protector for this journey.”

  “Wonderful,” Lord Draven said dryly. “And pray tell who will protect her from your drooling? Should I have my squire fetch rags now, or should I wait until she starts to drown?”

  Simon leaned forward ever so slightly, then spoke in a low tone for her ears alone. “His bite is nowhere near as bad as his bark.”

  She cast a quick glance to the man whose name was synonymous with death. “That is not what I have heard.”

  “Aye, but you’ve heard from those who have faced him in battle. There, he is a champion to be feared like a charging lion. But away from battle he is a fair man with naught but a loud bellow.”

  “And a sharp sword for those who pester me,” Draven said in that bellow Simon had just mentioned.

  Lord Draven turned to his men and ordered them to start the journey.

  His men rode to the front and back of her while Draven took the lead. Simon kept apace with her, and Alys followed in the wagons.

  Emily tried to study the man she had vowed to marry, and was unsure now if she could truly carry the deed off. She’d heard much of Draven de Montague from her father and others who had visited her home.

  He was a man known for unequaled prowess in battle and tourney. No one had ever defeated him, and he had once saved the king’s life. The few ladies she had met who had seen him had not lied about his good looks. He truly was handsome and fierce.

  No wonder maids sighed at the mention of his name.

  He sat straight in his saddle and moved in rhythm with the horse. Anyone could tell that Lord Draven felt at home on horseback, and from what she’d heard, he had spent much of his life on campaigns.

  Yet it was strange to look at him now, knowing that he might one day be her husband. That they might share a bed together where he would see her as no man had, touch her in places no one had.

  And kiss her in the wee hours of the night.

  Heat crept over her face. She’d never thought of a real man that way before. After Alys had been with her first man, they had talked at great lengths about what went on between men and women in country matters.