As Tate nodded, Wallace scowled a few feet away. “This is no comfort-palace, Lord Tate,” he said frankly. “There are only men at Harbottle and ever have been. Women do not belong in this place.”
Tate eyed him. “Be that as it may, women are here and you will make them comfortable. I will hear no more of your complaints. Is that clear?”
Rather than challenge him, for he had already pushed his lord farther than he should have, Wallace merely shrugged and turned away to presumably go about his duties. Tate and Stephen watched the old man shuffle away, muttering to himself, and Tate finally shook his head.
“Go and see if there is something in the kitchens for the ladies to eat,” Tate asked Stephen quietly. “I shall go and check on the state of my chamber to see what needs to be done in order to make it livable.”
Stephen departed for the kitchens that were outside of the keep, situated to the west against the fortress walls. As he moved into the dawn, Tate turned back to the women only to see that Toby was nearly upon him.
“Go and sit by the fire,” he put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around. “I will go and see to your chamber.”
Toby tried to shake him off. “I cannot sit and do nothing,” she said. “You must let me help. Where is Stephen going? Perhaps I can help him.”
Tate was trying not to be harsh with her. “I want you to sit and rest. The past few days have been very traumatic for you. Moreover, Ailsa needs you. She is very upset right now. I shall see to your chamber and you stay here where it is warm and bright.”
Toby managed to plant her feet so that he wasn’t shoving her back towards the bench. Brushing stray hair from her eyes, she faced him.
“Please,” she begged softly. “Please let me help you. I feel so useless right now. I feel as if I must be doing… something.”
He knew that she was a woman used to being very busy. And he also knew she was feeling weak and disoriented; she was still very pale and not at all recovered from her bout with illness. Before he could stop himself, he kissed her on the forehead and turned her back for the bench.
“Go and sit with your sister,” he instructed softly. “Warm yourself and I shall return shortly.”
His lips on her forehead had left a searing brand. Toby was still feeling it. “But….”
He cut her off and gave her another gentle shove to the bench. “Elizabetha, please,” he insisted softly. “I will feel better knowing you are safe and warm right where I left you. I shall return as quickly as I can.”
Toby didn’t argue further; she watched him fade into the dimness of the hall and into the stair hall beyond. He had a confident, stalking gait that she’d noticed before but never gave a tremendous amount of thought to until this moment. There was something about it that made her heart swell strangely. And the kiss… she touched her forehead as if she could still feel his lips there. Behind her, she heard Ailsa’s soft voice.
“Why did he kiss you?” she asked, curious. “I saw him do it. Why did he do it?”
Toby’s fingers lingered on her forehead a moment before dropping to her side. “I do not know,” she turned back to her sister, noting that the fire was gaining in strength and she scooted the bench towards it. “Perhaps he feels sorry for us. Perhaps he was just showing pity.”
Ailsa frowned. “He would kiss you to show pity?”
Toby’s thoughts lingered on the kiss before she looked at her sister, returning the frown. “Stop asking so many questions. Take off that blanket and move closer to the fire.”
Ailsa stuck her tongue out at her sister before shrugging the blanket off and lifting her hands to the delicious warmth of the fire. All manner of thoughts were rolling through her little mind as she watched the flames jump. She cast her sister a long look.
“Do you suppose that you shall become Lady Dragonblade?” she asked innocently.
With a scowl, Toby smacked her sister on the behind and Ailsa yelped. “No more talk of that,” she hissed. “I am in no mood for it.”
Ailsa made all sorts of faces at her sister, who soundly ignored her. When Ailsa realized that her sister was not reacting, she turned back to the fire. It was warm and wonderful on her face and she began to perk up. Her bright eyes moved about the hall, inspecting it, her curiosity now outweighing her disorientation.
The sounds of boots suddenly smacked in the keep entry. Both Ailsa and Toby turned to see Kenneth and the young squire entering the keep. Kenneth was removing his helm and peeling back his hauberk as Edward began sneezing. Ailsa left her post by the fire and ran to the squire.
“Are you ill?” she asked eagerly. “My father told me that wine cures all illness. Perhaps you should drink.”
Edward took on the familiar petrified look as Ailsa focused her attention on him. He veered away from her, moving to the opposite side of the great table, but Ailsa followed him. When he sat, she sat. Edward sneezed again, trying not to sneeze on Ailsa as she sat right next to him.
“Do you feel ill?” she pressed.
Edward shook his head, trying to discreetly scoot away from her. “Nay, I am fine. Just dust in my nose.”
Ailsa saw that he moved away from her and she closed the gap. “It is good that you are not ill. Toby is only now feeling better; is that not so, Toby?”
Toby turned to look at her sister as she pursued the terrified squire across the bench. Edward would scoot and Ailsa would scoot right after him. She motioned to her sister.
