Emllyn smiled in agreement. She’d heard that from him many times before. Yet there was one more thing on her mind, something she was hesitant to bring up but something that had to be spoken of. It was important to them both.
“And… Victor,” she finally said. “If we are to marry, then…”
“He has already given his consent.”
Her eyes widened. “Hehas?”
“Aye.”
“Even though he knows who you are?”
“Even though.”
Emllyn was surprised. Pleased, but surprised. As she mulled over what surely must have been Victor’s reaction to Black Sword’s proposal of marriage, Devlin interrupted her thoughts.
“There is something more you should know,” he said quietly. “Trevor le Mon is among the prisoners. I am sure he will be at the feast tonight. I did not want you to be surprised.”
Emllyn’s eyes widened. “Trevor?” she gasped. “He… he survived after all?”
Devlin nodded, watching her reaction. She was surprised but that was all. He saw no longing nor pleasure in her expression. Simply surprise. “Well and good for him,” she said. She meant it. “But I suppose I should thank him.”
“For what?”
She grinned. “For rejecting me,” she said, rather exaggeratedly. “If he had not rejected me, I would have never followed him aboard ship. Had I not followed him, I would have never had the joy of knowing you. We both owe him our thanks.”
Devlin grinned, thinking of the last thing le Mon said to him–you are the bravest man I know!He shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Indeed we do,” he said. “But I will do whatever thanking needs to be done. If I see you anywhere near him, I will kill him. Remember that. You belong to me now and I will not tolerate competition of any kind.”
Emllyn snorted; she wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t serious so she thought it would be the safe thing to obey him. Even though her feelings for Trevor were long gone, still, she didn’t want to cause the death of the man. So she giggled and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Devlin squeezed in return. She felt so soft and warm against him that he could feel his loins grow hard almost instantly. As he began to nibble her silky white shoulder, there was a loud knock at the door.
Emllyn and Devlin froze, staring at the panel with apprehension. Emllyn called out.
“Who comes?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound breathless.
“Sir Raymond, my lady,” de Noble said, his voice muffled through the door. “May I have a word?”
Emllyn looked at Devlin with complete, utter fear. He was quite calm and nodded at her, encouraging her to respond. As he bolted off the bed in silence and went for his clothing, Emllyn sat up.
“Of course,” she called in return, accepting the surcoat that Devlin handed her. “A moment, please. I was resting.”
“At your leisure, my lady,” de Noble replied.
She knew he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t a patient man in the least. In a panic, she threw on the surcoat and had Devlin fasten her up the back. The bed was a mess and her shift was still on the floor; she’d dressed without it. As Devlin finished dressing,Emllyn pulled on her slippers and straightened her hair as she headed for the door. She eyed Devlin as the man came up behind her, to be positioned behind the door should she open it. Taking a deep breath, she struggled for calm.
“Are you alone, my lord?” she asked politely.
“I am, my lady.”
“Then you know it is not proper for me to open my door to you without a chaperone or an escort to stand with me,” she said firmly. “What did you wish to speak to me of?”
De Noble went from sounding polite to sounding frustrated. “I came to ask you if you would grace us with your presence at sup tonight,” he said. “We are having a rather large meal in honor of our English prisoners. De Ferrer and his men went hunting this morning and killed a three point buck. I know that you usually take your meals in your room, but I am asking if you will attend us as a special favor.”
Emllyn leaned up against the door, her hand on the iron bolt. She was very thankful that Eefha had locked the door once Devlin had entered the chamber.
“Aye,” she said. “I would be happy to attend.”
