Shain and Iver could see he was defensive, but he was also making sense. Perhaps there wasn’t more to the man’s attitudetowards the prisoner than simple and uncomplicated concern; still, he was being extraordinarily attentive to the point of suspicion. After a moment of reflection, Shain nodded.
“I do,” he replied. “But I will say this, Dev, because you are my friend and I know you understand that my motives are true. Do not let yourself become emotionally involved with her; mayhap she is using her feminine wiles on you and you have been blinded by her charm. Mayhap she is well-spoken and intelligent, enough so that she is able to manipulate you. Whatever the case, do not let her sway you from your mission, my friend. It will be the death of you.”
Devlin didn’t become enraged as he might have if someone else had been truthful with him. After a moment of staring into Shain’s eyes, he simply hung his head and put the rest of his rabbit bones in front of Neart, who picked at them eagerly. Devlin found that, for some reason, he couldn’t look the man in the eye. He was afraid he would see emotion there that didn’t belong.
“She will not sway me,” he said quietly. “But it is important to keep her safe and close to me if we are to achieve the goals I have set. I want to know what de Cleveley and Kildare are planning and that woman over there is the only way I can find out.”
Shain watched Devlin as the man wiped his fingers off on his breeches. He noticed that he was having difficulty meeting his eye, which only served to fuel his suspicions that Devlin was feeling something for the English prisoner. Still, the man had denied it. It was possible that he didn’t even realize it.
“I hope so,” Shain finally said after a lengthy pause, one that was filled with unvoiced doubt. “I sincerely hope so. In any case, when do you think we can expect to see your return? Do you have a timeline planned?”
Devlin inhaled thoughtfully, glad to be off the uneasy subject of Emllyn. “It is difficult to know,” he said. “The lady will needto gain the confidence of de Cleveley’s people first and that will take time. It will be weeks, at least. Try to hold off Freddy and his hunger for power for at least that long. I will return as soon as I can but I would say that if I have not returned within two months, then you will assume something has happened to me. If you can send scouts in to infiltrate the settlement and find me, it might be a good idea. If the lady betrays me and I end up in the stocks, I will need help.”
It was the first time he admitted that such a thing might be possible. Shain simply nodded while Iver finished drinking his entire bladder. He didn’t like any of this and worry of this magnitude was often drowned in drink. He simply couldn’t help himself. The entire situation had him on edge.
Shain, Iver, Neart, and the rest of Devlin’s men were gone well before sunrise, back to Black Castle to await the fate of their leader and his English captive. Would Devlin’s scheme work? Would the lady betray him?
Only time would tell.
*
The smell ofsmoke was heavy.
As Emllyn emerged from a deep and heavy sleep, the first thing she became aware of was the acrid smell of smoke as it filled her nostrils. It seemed difficult to breathe so she tried to move her head, away from the smoke, but it seemed to be everywhere. Coughing, she opened her eyes.
It was a cold and dreary morning, just before sunrise. She knew that because she could see a faint gray glow through the clouds to the east and the birds were starting to rouse for the day. There was quite a bit of bird chatter. As she looked around, she noticed that the smoke was coming from a smoldering fire a few feet away. The misty morning was causing the smoke to layclose to the ground, which was why the smell was so heavy. She also noticed that there was no one else around; Devlin’s men had evidently already left for home. Rolling onto her back, she found herself looking up at Devlin.
He was leaning over his satchel, dressed in clothing she’d never seen before; usually, the man was impeccably attired in a leather vest, leather breeches, and a long Irish tunic that always seemed to be remarkably clean. But at the moment he was dressed in what amounted to little more than rags. He was a very big man all wrapped up in a ratty tunic, rough hose, and a big cloak that had holes in it. But that wasn’t the worst of it; he had shaved off all of his beautiful red hair and was as bald as a stone.
Startled, Emllyn sat up, her eyes wide on his appearance. She hardly recognized him. Somewhere between last night and this morning, he had shaved all of the hair off of his head but had left his beard intact. Rubbing her eyes as if to clarify the shocking vision, she peered at him more closely.
“God’s Blood,” she muttered. “What have you done to yourself?”
Devlin looked up from where he was stuffing the remainder of his possessions into his satchel. The look on her face somewhat amused him. “So you are awake? You slept the sleep of the dead.”
Emllyn didn’t want to talk about that. She wanted to talk about his drastic appearance and she pointed a finger at him. “You are bald!”
His eyes widened and his hand flew up to his head. Letting out a short, high-pitched scream that would have made a woman proud, he ran his hand over his shiny scalp. “What happened to me hair?” He embellished the words greatly and Emllyn retracted the pointing finger, puzzled by his reaction for a moment before realizing he was jesting with her. Rather than giggle at him or ignore it altogether, she decided to play along.
“Mayhap the fairies took it,” she said. “I hear they are all over these lands. Mayhap they shaved you bald in the night. Did you not notice?”
His brow furrowed thoughtfully as he rubbed his scalp. “Am I still beauteous?”
She turned her nose up at him. “I would not know,” she said stiffly as she rose to her knees. “I have never noticed that about you one way or the other.”
He could sense a game afoot, one that bordered on gentle flirtation. “Be truthful,” he prodded. “You have noticed that about me and more.”
She snorted as she stood wearily, wincing when her injured leg pained her. It was swollen and achy this morning. “What more is there?” she wanted to know. “You have your adoring Irish throng to tell you how beauteous you are. You do not need me.”
He fought off a grin. “Aye, I do,” he replied. “I need the rumors of my comeliness to be spread all over England and Wales. Will you start these stories?”
Emllyn looked at him, an expression of utter disinterested on her face. “I would spread stories of your arrogance,” she said, noticing that he was fighting off a grin. It made her want to grin, too. “But if you allow me to return home when I have served my purpose with de Cleveley, mayhap I will consider telling everyone that you are generous and pleasant-looking.”
He lifted a red eyebrow. “That is the best you can do? That I am pleasant-looking?”
“I would not consider my captor any better than pleasant-looking. I should not even contemplate that.”
The banter faded as the Emllyn brought about the reality of the situation between them. He was so willing to overlook it, to morph it into something more than it was, but Emllyn was unwilling to entertain the thought. She was a prisoner, aconcubine as he once put it. But she had to admit he could be charming when the mood struck him. She’d seen glimpses if it before. He had a very infectious charm that was difficult to resist.
