It was a vicious fight.
The mood, rather warm and sensual only moments before, was now brittle and fierce. Although Emllyn’s arms were pinned, her legs were quite free and she ended up kicking him in the groin. Grunting with pain, Devlin staggered to the bed and fell upon it with Emllyn sandwiched beneath him and the mattress. He listened to her snarl and weep, so much fight in her soft little body that it surprised him. For an Englishwoman, she was tough.
And he was impressed.
“I hate you, do you hear?” she sobbed. “I will hate you until I die!”
Devlin lay atop her, his face pressed into her back between her shoulder blades. She couldn’t get to him here but he knew what had triggered her rage–whore. He had called her the lowliest form of female life, reminding her of what her foolish actions and bad fortune had brought her. She was to be the whore for an Irish warlord who intended to use her for nothing more than breeding stock. It was a shameful and bleak existence. In that sense, he understood her reaction.
Torn between remorse and the reality of the situation, unless he wanted to physically restrain her for the rest of their lives, he had to say something to calm her. He was afraid if he left the chamber, she might try to escape in desperation and end up falling from the window. He didn’t want to think of that sweet, soft body broken and bleeding on the rocks below.
It would have been a damnable waste.
“I will have a bath brought up to you,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I will send up more than bread for you to eat and clothes to wear. You will feel better after you have had a chance to eat and dress warmly.”
Beneath him, Emllyn’s hysteria had dissolved into tears of shame and anger. “Why?” she sobbed. “Why give me comfort? Simply kill me now and be done with it.”
His cheek was against the warmth of her back. “I am not going to kill you,” he said. “You are my captive and I intend to take very good care of you. You are worth something.”
Emllyn’s weeping lessened at his odd statement and her eyes opened. She appeared somewhat bewildered.
“I have already told you,” she sniffled. “My brother will not care if you hold me captive. He will not pay your ransom demand. I am worth nothing.”
Devlin could feel that her struggles had weakened. In fact, she wasn’t struggling much at all. She was simply lying beneath him, trembling. Warm and soft, he resisted the urge to brush his lips on the soft skin against his cheek.
A most strange reaction to a woman who was his captive.
“I will not ransom you,” he said, his voice low. “I told you– I will keep you for myself. You will bear my sons.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. He felt her sigh; the tears were gone and now there was despair in the very air she breathed. It was a hollow and bitter mood, all settled in about her. He could feel it.
“I do not want to be your whore,” she muttered. “Why could you not have simply killed me last night as you did all the other English? It would seem that you have shown mercy to the dead. I would like the same mercy shown to me.”
Devlin lay there a moment before taking the chance and letting her go. He sat up, watching her stiffly push herself up off the mattress. She recoiled from him but she didn’t try to run again. She was also quivering, with cold and emotion, and he gazed at her steadily a moment before standing up.
“If I ask you a question, will you give me the courtesy of an honest answer?” he asked.
Arms wrapped around her slender body, Emllyn turned to him. “Why?” she asked.
“Because I ask it. I would not lie to you so I do not expect you, as an honorable lady, to lie to me.”
She was tired. Too tired to fight with him anymore. All of the fighting they’d done, the wrestling and struggling, had sapped her strength. She simply didn’t have the will to fight in her at the moment.
“What is it, then?” she asked, averting her gaze.
“Will you answer honestly?”
“Aye.”
Devlin eyed her lowered head. “When you stowed away on your brother’s vessels, where did you think they were going?” he asked. “You knew his armies were sailing for Ireland. You knew it was a battle fleet. Did you not think they would find resistance the moment they arrived?”
Emllyn shrugged, her gaze still averted. “To be entirely truthful, I did not,” she said. “I knew they were going to battle… that Trevor was going to battle… but I did not think it would be so immediate. I thought mayhap a battle march once they reached shore… and there would be time for me to reveal myself to him.”
She was starting to tear up. He could see it. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes but he felt no pity for her.
“And then what?” he asked.
Her head came up, looking at him. “What do you mean?”
