Devlin picked up the garment on the top of the pile, a yellow linen that was embroidered with fine silver thread. “As I said,she is a scavenger,” he said. “There is no telling where she found this.”
Emllyn could tell that it was very fine; she’d seen enough finery to know. “This is something a great noblewoman would wear,” she told him. “She did not… did she steal it somehow?”
Devlin began taking the pile from her. “I doubt it,” he said. “She barters for things, as well.”
“With the way she speaks?” Emllyn said, dubious. “How would anyone know what she wanted?”
Devlin took the remaining items from her and shifted them to one big arm. “She will find a way,” he said, reaching out to grasp Emllyn by the arm. “Let us return to the keep now. You can try on your finery and see what fits.”
He had her by the elbow as he turned around but the moment he did, something in his line of sight had his full attention and he handed the garments back over to Emllyn, piling them on so she could barely see over the top. He had to clear his arms quickly because he didn’t want to be caught in a compromising position. He needed to be free to move and to protect both himself and Emllyn if necessary.
Approaching rather swiftly from the northeast corner of the bailey were Frederick and several of his men.
CHAPTER SIX
“Ihad heardyou let her out of her cage,” Frederick said, nearly yelling because he was still several feet away as he drew near. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”
He meant something undoubtedly humiliating or painful. Devlin tightened up one of his leather gloves, trying to remain casual about the entire thing. However, whenever Frederick was involved, the situation was anything but casual. The mood of the conversation could go from light to deadly in a fraction of a second. Devlin wondered if the man was going to bring up the subject of Emllyn paying for his brother’s death again; he hoped not. Still, he was tightening up his gloves in case he had to throw a punch if the man made a swipe for her.
“You did not miss anything,” he said evenly. “We were just returning to the keep.”
“Why?” Frederick put out his hands to stop them, his gaze riveted to Emllyn as she was nearly buried with the garments in her arms. “She looks better than she did the night I captured her. In fact, she looks rather pleasing. I had no idea English women were anything other than slovenly hags.”
The men who had accompanied Frederick tittered rudely. Devlin’s expression was impassive. “We came to find some clothing that would fit her,” he said evenly. “Eefha has all manner of goods.”
Frederick didn’t take his eyes from her as he moved towards her, inspecting her as one would inspect a prized mare. He walked a slow circle around her, scrutinizing her from the front and from the rear.
“Eefha has everything one could possibly want and a few things one does not,” he said, a leering glint in his tone. “I would say that Kildare’s sister doesn’t want for anything. She is quite fine.”
Throughout the exchange, Emllyn stood stock still, terrified by the big Irish warrior’s attention. All of the fear and terror she had felt the night she had been captured came roaring back, causing her knees to weaken and her palms to sweat.She looks better than she did the night I captured her. So it was this big, beefy knight who had chased her down and carried her off like so much baggage. He had been very rough and very rude.
She was absolutely terrified.
“Shain has an English knight in the gatehouse for questioning,” Devlin said, trying to distract Frederick. “You will go and help him. Do not lay a hand on the prisoner, however, at least not until I get there. I do not want him beaten and dazed when I arrive, so much so that I will not be able to get anything intelligent out of him. We need answers, Freddy. See to it.”
Frederick nodded lazily, still inspecting Emllyn. In fact, he was standing directly behind her, looking at her backside. The man was oozing lust; it was evident in everything about him and Devlin struggled to keep a rein on his anger. If Frederick sensed anything other than indifference in his attitude towards Emllyn, there would be trouble. Frederick would make it so.
“Aye,” he said, his focus on her bum. “She will breed you a host of strong Irish rebels and mayhap a daughter or two for the rest of us. I should have kept her for myself, Dev. Had I gotten a better look at her that night, I would have.”
“Go, now,” Devlin told him, ignoring his statement.
Frederick looked up at him, his eyes twinkling. “Can I have a go ather?”
Devlin simply pointed to the gatehouse as Frederick’s men laughed lewdly. Emllyn lowered her head and struggled not tocry. Devlin didn’t say a word as the men wandered away. He watched them as they moved towards the gate house and saw clearly when Eefha moved towards the group; the old woman had her hands up at them, claws bared, as the shite pipe smoked furiously in her mouth. Frederick’s men instinctively shied away from the woman as she began to hiss.
“The blood in thy breast, it boils,” she said. “Oft didst thou wrest Victory’s spoils.”
Frederick recoiled, too, when he heard the breathy words. “Dev!” he said, backing away in the direction of the gatehouse. “You said you would not let the old witch curse me! She is doing it, do you hear?”
Devlin held a straight face even though he wanted to laugh; it was always hilarious to him to see big, powerful knights turn into frightened children at the first sign of a curse or witchcraft. Eefha had that effect on all of them with her odd speech and garbled appearance. It was humorous how one tiny little woman could put the fear of the devil into men three times her size. Devlin waved the man off.
“She is simply telling you not to be so greedy,” he said. “Go, now, to the gatehouse. I will be there shortly.”
Eefha threw up her hands and growled at Frederick and his men, sending them scampering away. Devlin did grin, then, as he turned back for the keep and grasped Emllyn by the elbow. They were moving across the muddy bailey when he heard her soft voice.
“You… you have an English knight in the gatehouse?” she asked timidly. “Is… is he a young knight?”
Devlin was seized with a fit of jealousy before he even looked at her. Once he saw the eager expression on her face, he was positively enraged with it.
