“I fear we have caused you some delay,” she said quietly. “She has never been a good traveler.”
Tate waved her off. “We are nearly to Harbottle. ’Tis just over the hill and we shall have both you and your sister into a warm bed in little time.”
Toby’s smile faded, her eyes turning as if she could see the distant castle. “That would be welcome,” she murmured.
Tate watched her intently as she returned to comforting her sister. “How areyoufeeling?” he asked softly.
It took Toby a moment to realize he was asking the question of her. She lifted her shoulders. “Exhausted,” she admitted. “But well enough to.…”
She trailed off. Tate peered more closely at her.
“Well enough to what?” he encouraged.
She looked at her sister, her hands, anywhere but Tate’s probing eyes. “Nothing, my lord.”
“My lord, is it?” Tate grunted. “You have not called me ‘my lord’ for two days.”
“I have not been conscious for two days.”
He grunted again, a smile playing on his lips. “You will call me by my name. Now tell me what you were going to say.”
She looked up at him and he could see embers of the old fire within her brilliant hazel eyes, the Toby he had first met in Cartingdon. He knew that illness and devastation could not erase this woman’s spirit. She was too strong.
“I was going to say that I am well enough to return to Forestburn,” she said with more conviction. “I must see to the state of affairs if we are going to have any hope of regrouping.”
He had known all along that it would have been her desire; he just didn’t think she would voice it so soon. “Forestburn isashes,” he said quietly. “Give yourself time to recover before entertaining a return home.”
Toby’s lovely features tightened; he could see it even in the dark of the fog. “Forestburn may be ashes but my father’s farm still exists. There are still sheep to be shorn and harvests to be brought in. Simply because the manor burned does not mean the empire no longer exists. Too many people depend on us. They must know that all is not lost, that they have not been deserted.”
He expected nothing less from her but was not prepared to enter into what would undoubtedly be something of an argument. “Well,” he said after a moment, scratching beneath his hauberk where it chaffed. “Nothing will be settled this night. We are nearly to Harbottle and from there you can plot your next move. But for now, I would strongly suggest we make all due haste to reach my fortress and see what the morrow brings.”
“Iamreturning home.”
“I know.”
She eyed him as if daring him to challenge her. When she realized he had no intention of contradicting her, she backed down somewhat and refocused on her sister. Above her head, Tate and Stephen exchanged knowing glances; trying to keep her still long enough to recover her strength was going to be something of a chore.
Truth be told, Tate knew he did not have the heart to deny her. After what he had witnessed at the top of the stairs at Forestburn, he realized he would never be able to deny her anything ever again. Any woman that brave, that strong, deserved his undying support and loyalty. But it was more than that; beyond admiration and respect, he felt something more. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but it was lingering in the recesses of his mind just waiting for the moment to be unleashed. Every time he looked at her, he could feel himself drawing closer and closer to unhinging it.
Ailsa fell back into a fitful sleep. As exhausted as she was, Toby was holding her limp sister protectively to ensure the child’s comfort. Tate ordered the wagon to move forward and it did, as carefully as it could manage. Stephen, still beside the wagon, rolled up a blanket and propped it behind Toby’s back. She was able to lean back on it and she smiled her thanks at Stephen. He dipped his head gallantly and remounted his charger.
The party traveled deep into the night, eventually to come upon Harbottle Castle just as dawn began to break. As the sun rose and the fog turned from dark mist to puffy silver clouds, the pale gray stones of Harbottle Castle took on a cold and harsh countenance.
Toby was still awake, still with the sleeping Ailsa in her arms, as her gaze beheld the seat of the Harbottle Common lordship. In all of her years at Forestburn, she’d never once traveled far enough to see the castle. She’d never had any reason to. Now, as they passed through the small village and the castle loomed into view, she thought it looked very uninviting. It was a massive place with at least three stone towers that she could count, probably more, and a keep that stretched into the fog. She couldn’t even see the top. It occurred to her that it would now be her residence until such time as she returned to Forestburn.
She did not get a good feeling from the place.
*
Wallace Worthington Magnussonhad been a priest many years ago. But he had committed the unspeakable sin of falling in love with a woman and the Jesuits exiled him. Before he had been a priest, however, he had been a knight, and a very good one. So he had returned to the knighthood only to realize that he did not have the stomach for killing any longer. Then, whilst drowninghis sorrows one night at a tavern, he managed to save the life of a young knight named Tate de Lara and from that moment on, the two had been unquestionably linked.
So the dishonored priest was given the job of majordomo at young de Lara’s Harbottle holding and it was this hairy bear of a man who greeted the party from Cartingdon Parrish. Standing on the steps of the keep, he looked like a wild-man who lived in the forest and ate bark and berries to survive. His mass of shocking white hair was the first thing Toby noticed. It was hard to miss. As the party drew into the bailey and the massive portcullis was slammed shut behind them, she was coming to feel uneasy and disoriented.
Tate bailed from his charger as they neared the keep and made his way back to the wagon. Kenneth and young John were barking orders to disburse the men and Stephen was already at the wagon by the time Tate arrived. The Hospitaller had his arms around Ailsa, lifting her out of the wagon as Toby weakly fussed with the blanket her sister was wrapped in. She wanted to make sure her sister was warm enough and Stephen assured her that the child was indeed quite warm.
Toby looked a little lost as the tall knight walked off with Ailsa, watching as the two of them mounted the stairs to the towering keep. She wasn’t sure she wanted her sister out of her sight in this foreign place, not even for a moment. The big man with the wild hair greeted Stephen at the top of the stairs and said something to Ailsa, to which the little girl began crying. Startled, Toby was about to climb from the wagon herself to see what the matter was when a soft voice distracted her.
“Elizabetha,” Tate was standing at the end of the wagon bed, patting the boards with a mailed hand. “Slide down here, sweetheart. I will take you inside.”
