“Congratulations on your betrothal, by the way,” Stephen finally said. “May you have much joy in this marriage.”
“Thank you.”
“There is one more thing, however.”
“What is that?
Stephen turned to look at him, an intense look to his eye. “Should anything ever happen to you, know that I will take very good care of your widow.”
Tate’s eyes widened. Then, he burst out giggling like a fool. Stephen tried to hold back the chuckles but soon he was roaring with laughter. After a few moments of uncharacteristic snorting, Stephen sobered with dramatic speed and wiped the smile from his face.
“I am serious.”
Tate abruptly stopped laughing and gawked at him in outrage. He balled up a fist and took a swing at Stephen’s jaw, but in the process burst into more laughter and ended up almost falling over the parapet when Stephen side-stepped the blow. Hooting and snorting, the two of them made their way back towards the gatehouse as the sun began to rise in the distant east. But the laughter soon turned to conversation and by the time they hit the gatehouse, they were already discussing the priorities of the coming day. It was as if no contention had ever been.
In the bailey below, Kenneth heard the chortling. He stood below the wall walk, watching Tate and Stephen, hearing thelaughter and saying a silent prayer that he wasn’t picking up body parts. He had been standing there since Tate had left the knight’s quarters, watching and waiting. With a woman involved, he had no way of knowing what turn the situation would take. He was glad it wasn’t the wrong turn.
Without even trying, Toby could have done more damage than Mortimer’s army could have ever dreamed of.
*
Toby awoke tothe sounds of shouts coming from the bailey. Every so often, a dog would bark or a bird would screech. She was lying on her back on the bed in the master’s chamber, one arm over her head and the other clutching the coverlet to her naked chest. She lay there a moment, staring up at the ceiling and forgetting, for a split second, where she was. She didn’t recognize the place. Then, remembrance dawned.
It all came tumbling upon her. She remembered Tate from the night before and her heart began to pound at the mere thought. She remembered everything, from the moment he had first touched her until she had fallen asleep in his powerful embrace. Warm delirium swept her as she thought on the power, the passion, and the excitement. She thought it might have been a dream until she lifted her hand and smelled Tate on her flesh. She lay there a moment, inhaling deeply, feeling her body tremble at his scent. She should have been shocked at her behavior, ashamed at the very least, but she found that she was neither. She felt a fulfillment in her soul that she’d never had before. But her warm thoughts faded as she looked around, noticing that she was quite alone in the bed and in the room.
She sat up, still holding the coverlet to her chest. The kitten suddenly leapt onto the bed and she petted the little beast absently. Her thoughts drifted to the night before onceagain and she thought of Tate’s magical touch, the heat of his mouth, the gentle power of his body when he took her. She hadn’t been prepared for that intimate action but had very quickly succumbed to his passion. It had been the most powerful physical and emotional event of her life, propelling her onto a plane that she had never known to exist. But now that she found herself alone in the bedchamber, embarrassment was beginning to join her puzzlement.
Perhaps Tate had left because he had been embarrassed, too. He had left without a word. Perhaps he left because he realized it had all been a horrible mistake. From the deeply personal memories of the night before to a creeping humiliation, she wrapped herself in the coverlet and went in search of her clothes. As she made her way to her neatly stacked trunks, she passed next to the hearth and made a startling discovery.
Someone had drawn a smiling face into the ashes. Toby stood there a moment, staring down at the two eyes and big smiling mouth. That had not been there the previous night. It occurred to her that Tate must have drawn the face when he had left that morning, not wanting to wake her but wanting to leave some mention of his passing. One corner of her mouth twitched and then the other; soon, she was laughing softly, laughing harder when the kitten walked through the face and left little paw prints all over it.
As she finally reached her trunks, she also noticed a basin of clean water on the nearby table. That hadn’t been there last night, either; nor had the small wooden platter of cheese and bread. She felt awful that she had thought poorly of Tate, that he had abandoned her after their night of passion. Obviously, the man had put a good deal of thought into greeting her with a pleasant morning and she adored him for it. Her heart was swelling so with happiness that she was sure it would burst.With a huge smile, Toby dropped the coverlet and grabbed her cake of lavender and lemon rind soap.
When she finished washing with the soap and tepid water, she dried off with a linen sheet they had brought from Forestburn and proceeded to dress in pantalets, a linen shift and brown surcoat that emphasized her slender waist. She brushed her hair furiously and pulled it away from her face with a strip of cloth that wrapped all the way around her head, tying a bow just behind her right ear. It was a very flattering style for the heart-shape of her face.
As she pulled on her shoes, she threw bits of cheese to the kitten. When all of the bread and cheese were gone, and she and the kitten were fed, she collected the cat and quit the chamber with the intention of taking the kitten outside to relieve itself. But more importantly, she wanted to find Tate. The kitten was just a convenient excuse.
The keep was dark as she made her way down the deadly stairs. She hardly heard a sound. But as she neared the great hall, she could hear the men inside, mostly wounded, and she ventured into the cavernous room. It was dim and smelling of smoke from the fire in the hearth. The very first thing she saw was Stephen directly to her left, tending to one of his patients. He looked up and their eyes met. Startled to see him, Toby did the only thing she could do; she smiled timidly.
“Good morn to you, Sir Stephen,” she said. “I fear I must have been more exhausted than I thought. I seem to have slept long into the morning.”
Stephen’s gaze lingered on her. “No harm done. You obviously needed the rest.”
She shrugged faintly, looking around the room and petting the cat in her arms. “May I help you this morning?”
Stephen finished securing the bandage of the man he was working on and stood up. “There is not much to do,” he followedher gaze around the room. “Most of the men seem to be healing steadily. The only thing you could possibly do is lift their spirits with a kind word.”
“Perhaps they would like to pet my cat.”
He looked at the animal and cracked a smile. “I fear that grown men aren’t as attached to felines as women and children are.”
She grinned, noticing that he did not seem tense or angry with her this morning. Perhaps Tate had taken her advice and spoken to him. She could only hope.
“I am going to find my young friend with the chest wound,” she said pointedly. “I will wager that he would like to pet my cat.”
Stephen’s smiled faded. “He is not here.”
“Oh? Where is he?”