“What…,” she asked, interrupted when he kissed her soft mouth, “are you doing here? How did you get here?”
He didn’t want to answer any foolish questions at the moment; he just wanted to taste her, hold her, and convince himself that she was real. His hands moved to cup her face, swallowing up her entire head with his enormous grip. He just stared at her, drinking her in.
“Are you well, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice trembling. “The missive I received from Mortimer said that you had been injured.”
There were tears in Toby’s eyes as she gazed back at him. “I fell off the horse and broke three ribs,” she told him. “But I am as good as new.”
He sighed heavily, one hand moving to touch her torso as if to convince himself that she was indeed in one piece. It brought him more relief than he could have imagined.
“Thank God,” he murmured. Then he took her by the arms and looked her in the eye. “You foolish woman; you could have been killed with what you did. What in the world possessed you to lure those soldiers out of Harbottle?”
The tears in her eyes spilled over. “I could not let them find you. I was terrified they were going to kill you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he kissed her forehead, her temple, listening to her sniffle. “It was very brave of you but very foolish. I was so… well, it does not matter. All that matters is that you are well. And Mortimer… he has been a respectful to you? He has not harmed or touched you?”
She wiped at her eyes. “Not yet,” she didn’t know why she suddenly felt so weak and frightened. “But he has been using Kenneth to ensure my behavior. I refused to do his bidding once and he beat Kenneth. He has not done it again so far, but he has threatened.”
Tate tore his eyes off her long enough to look at St. Héver; the big blond knight’s gaze was steady, as if there was nothing amiss. But Tate knew Kenneth well enough to know that the man would never react or complain about any personal offense against him.
“Is this true?” he asked Kenneth, pulling Toby tightly against him once more.
Kenneth cleared his throat softly, glancing at Toby before replying. “It was not that bad,” he said, wanting the focus off of him. “He did, however, make a pact with your wife shortly before your arrival. He told Lady de Lara that he would kill me if she did not spend one night with him in the conjugal sense.”
Tate’s nostrils flared as he looked at his wife. Toby nodded emphatically. “The queen’s arrival interrupted his plans, thank God. But he seemed to know that you had sent her.”
“How did he know that?”
“I do not know. But when he was told the queen was approaching, he looked at me and said ‘Dragonblade’”.
Tate fell silent a moment, his arms around his wife, his cheek against the top of her head. It felt so good just to hold her again even though he knew they were not out of danger yet. He could not relax. After a pensive moment, he sighed heavily.
“It was Isabella’s idea to disguise me as one of her own guard to gain access to the castle,” he said softly. “Stephen and Wallace are here also.”
“I know,” Kenneth replied. “I saw them both. Where is the king?”
Tate lifted an eyebrow. “Safe,” he replied vaguely. “More importantly, there is a ten-thousand-man army a mile to the south, awaiting my command to unleash on Wigmore.”
Toby looked at him with shock. “Ten thousand men?” she repeated. “Why are they here?”
Tate rubbed her arms affectionately. “When I received Mortimer’s message, my first thought was to raise an army bigger than anything England has ever seen. I was prepared to raze Wigmore and destroy everything, and everyone, in my path in order to gain you back.” He sighed, watching the fear in her eyes. “But when my fury cooled, I knew that the one person who had the best chance of securing your release was Isabella. She holds much power over Mortimer. So I went to see her in London.”
“That is why you did not come for me right away?” Toby was beginning to understand.
“Exactly. As much as I wanted to rush to Wigmore, I knew I had to lay my plans well against Mortimer. The man is no fool.”
She gazed up at him, feeling foolish for ever doubting him. “So what now?”
He shrugged. “Isabella will order him to let you go.”
“It is that simple?”
“If he wants to retain his life it is.”
“What if he does not?”
“Then I raze Wigmore and him with it. I will destroy him.”
His voice had taken on a deadly tone. Toby held him tightly, not wanting to let him go. “Take me from here now,” she begged. “Why can you not take me out this moment?”