Merradoc shook his head, pointing at Devlin. “Of him,” he replied. “I may not be a gossip, but I hear things. I’m not particularly fond of Connaught because the man it too self-righteous. He is also arrogant, thinking that he is with surety to be pledged to the Lady Elyse. Mayhap he will, mayhap he won’t; in any case, he believes he will be the commander of Glenteige someday. If that is the case, God help us. He does not have the patience and cunning that de Noble does.”
Devlin didn’t say a word but he was listening carefully; he often found the best intelligence came from outside observers. He was curious to know in what direction Emllyn would take the conversation.
“It matters not to me,” she finally said, turning for the table where a pitcher of wine and two cups sat. She poured herself some wine to get rid of the rotten taste. “I will be leaving soon and returning home. I am not concerned for the politics at Glenteige.”
Merradoc watched her drink. “I heard de Noble say that you would be a fine companion for his daughter,” he said quietly. “This is not gossip, mind you, for I heard him say this to the Lady Elyse. His daughter is lonely here and she has taken a liking to you. I believe that de Noble will write to your brother and ask that you remain here.”
Emllyn looked at the man. She wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that but she didn’t protest it. She was coming to think that perhaps Merradoc wasn’t as tight-lipped as he said he was, which concerned her. What she said might make it to other ears. Therefore, she didn’t react one way or the other.
“Lady Elyse is a very sweet woman,” she said neutrally, sipping at her wine. “I like her a great deal.”
Merradoc’s gaze lingered on her a moment before returning his focus to his satchel. He began packing items away. “I will return in the morning,” he said. “In the meanwhile, stay off of that leg and limit your nocturnal activities. You need your rest.”
He was looking at Devlin as he said it. But Devlin didn’t react and the old man collected his bag, pushing past the two of them on his way to the door. Hand on the big iron latch, he paused before leaving.
“I would not sleep in the same bed if I were you,” he said quietly, looking between the two of them. “Lady Elyse is an early riser and unless you want her to find you together, I would suggest you sleep in separate beds.”
Emllyn gave one last stab at maintaining a proper illusion between her and Devlin. “We most certainly will not sleep in thesame bed,” she said firmly. “You are a nosy old man with unclean thoughts.”
Merradoc’s lips tugged with the beginnings of a smile. “And you, lady, smell like a man has been all over you.”
Emllyn’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know what such a thing smells like? I would wager it has been centuries since you last saw companionship.”
Merradoc snorted as he opened the door. “Mayhap, Lady Emllyn,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “Mayhap indeed. But you must be careful nonetheless.”
He shut the door softly behind him and Devlin moved over to throw the bolt, locking the door. He turned to look at Emllyn, who was still standing by the bed with a cup of wine in her hand. They stood there a moment, looking at each other, each feeling a certain measure of apprehension.
“You will not trust anyone here,” Devlin finally said, his voice soft and firm. “Especially not him.”
Emllyn nodded, downing the rest of the wine in the cup. “It is strange,” she said quietly as she set the cup down. “When I was at Black Castle, I could not trust anyone,” she said. “I was surrounded by people who considered me the enemy. Now, at Glenteige, I still cannot trust anyone even though we are allies. It is a difficult world I live in.”
Devlin could see her perspective. In many ways, her world was more difficult than his; at least he had people he could depend on. She had no one. But she had him.
Silently, he made his way over to her and wrapped her up in his big, strong arms. Emllyn collapsed against him, her arms around his waist and her head against his chest. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. There was so much warmth and comfort between them, so much power and emotion, that it brought tears to her eyes.
“Promise me that you will not leave me here long,” she whispered. “Promise me that you will return for me very soon.”
Devlin kissed the top of her head. “I swear I will not leave you here any longer than necessary,” he said. “I want you with me and not imprisoned in this English hell. My greatest thought will be of taking you back with me to Black Castle where we both belong.”
Emllyn looked up at him, her eyes moist with unshed tears. “I told you once I did not want to be your concubine,” she murmured. “I have changed my mind. It would be an honor.”
He smiled faintly. “I would rather have you as my wife,” he said. “Would that not be a greater honor?”
“The greatest.”
He grinned and kissed her, tasting her sweetness as if he had been longing for it all of his life. To feel such a connection with someone, to feel physical pain at the thought of separation or physical excitement when their bodies touched, was an entirely new experience for him. Even now, the thought of leaving her tomorrow made him feel ill. He was dreading it.
“Then I will marry you the day we return to Black Castle,” he said. “I will cherish the day when I can call you Lady de Bermingham.”
Emllyn grinned, touching his face and watching him kiss her palms. “It will give my brother fits.”
“Does this concern you?”
“Not in the least. You are the most important thing in the world to me.” Her smile faded as her thoughts turned to the bargain they had struck back at Black Castle. It seemed so long ago now. “Dev, what of the English prisoners you still hold? Will you still kill them? Or will you let them go?”
He sobered, thinking of Trevor, the man who had literally brought them together, moldering down in his vault. “Do you still want to see if Trevor is among them?” he asked even thoughhe already knew the answer. “I will allow you to check if you wish.”
“It hardly matters now.”
