Free Master of Desire by Kinley MacGregor

dressed in a black tunic and breeches.
    As he left the stable, he caught sight of Emily heading back toward the donjon with Druce by her side. The two of them were laughing over something. The sound of her musical laughter rang in his ears.
    What he would give to be free to make jests with her as well, and to see her eyes light up with humor.
    With her head held high, and her pale blond hair and veil flowing behind her, she was a graceful, beguiling creature.
    And for the first time in his life, he wanted Simon to be right.
    What would it be like to have the life of a normal man? To sit before the fire while his lady went about her duties and tended his children?
    To have her turn to him with a smile meant only for him?
    He would sell what little soul he had left for it.
    But it was a dream he’d left behind long ago out of necessity. Now with Emily’s presence here it had resurfaced with such vengeance that he cursed Henry for his decree.
    On my honor, I, Draven de Montague, earl of Ravenswood, will never lay hand to the Lady Emily in violence or in lust. She will leave my company in the same manner with which she was brought, or I shall surrender myself to the king’s justice whatever it might be.
    If it was the last thing he did, he would uphold that oath, his body and wants be damned.

Chapter 4
    E mily had just sat down to break her fast with Alys when the door to the donjon swung wide. She frowned at Alys as people began rushing into the room in a flurry of activity.
    A wiry man of about a score and ten years led the way, clutching a small black book to his right side. His black hair was thin and short, and a shock of his bangs continually fell into his eyes no matter how much he brushed it aside. He wore a bright orange tunic and whipped orders off his tongue with amazing speed.
    â€œYou, there,” he said to one of the fifteen women. “You pick three others and immediately start cleaning the upper floor. I want four women in the kitchens scrubbing, and the rest of you can start in here. Master carpenter.” He turned to the bearded older man at his right. “See that this hall is completely redone.” He threw his left arm wide as he gestured toward the stark, faded gray walls. “They need to be reinforced, painted, and, well, whatever you think. I want it light and airy. Homey. Aye,” he said with a satisfied smile, “let us strive for a homey feel.”
    â€œMilady?” Alys asked. “Who are these people?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Emily said. “But I suspect the man in orange must be Lord Draven’s steward.” Or he was a lunatic to come unbidden into Lord Draven’s hall and start making such changes.
    Nay, he would have to be the steward.
    As if sensing her thoughts, the man moved to her side. “Good day, milady,” he said, his face bright and cheerful. “I am Denys, Lord Draven’s steward.”
    He drew forth the book, opened it to the page that was marked by a small quill pen, and set it on the table next to her. He took a vial of ink from the satchel on his girdle and opened the top. Dipping the quill, he paused and looked up at her. “I was told to ask after your particular needs.”
    Before she could answer, there was another commotion at the door.
    â€œOut of the way,” someone shouted.
    The crowd parted like the Red Sea as a group of four men hefted a large headboard through the door. The men paused just inside the hall and rested the intricately carved mahogany piece against the far wall. “Would someone tell us where to put this?” a young man asked as he panted.
    â€œWell it certainly doesn’t go in the hall,” Denys muttered under his breath. He crossed the room and gestured to the stairs with his quill. “Up the stairs to the lady’s room on the right.”
    Denys turned to one of Lord Draven’s servants and instructed the man to show them the way.
    Stupefied, Emily