He shrugged. “I would be proud to be a mere knight, but by virtue of my birth, I am slightly more. The Harbottle Commons lordship is only the beginning.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “The beginning? I do not understand.”
He drew in a long, thoughtful breath. “Along with Harbottle, I hold title to the baronetcies of Workington and Consett as well as the title Viscount Whitehaven, Lord Protector of Cumbria. I am also the Earl of Carlisle.”
Toby couldn’t help it; her eyes widened. “You are an earl?”
“That is a recent title.”
Her mouth flew open; she slapped a hand over it so she wouldn’t look like an idiot. Tate acted as if it was truly nothing to be shocked over and took her hand back, just so he could kiss it again. The storm cloud colored eyes glittered.
“Now you will tell me about your lineage, Mistress Elizabetha Cartingdon,” he said. “And mind you leave nothing out.”
She was still stunned, struggling to gather her wits. “I am certainly none of the peerage you speak of,” she said. “The most I can do is claim relation to the barons of Northumberland. The last baron, Ives de Vesci, had several daughters. My father was a son of de Vesci’s third daughter. And my mother’s sire told me that we are descended from a Viking king named Red Thor.”
He smiled knowingly. “I can see the beauty of Viking maidens in you,” he said. “You clearly should bear the title of ‘lady’, not mistress.”
She shook her head. “My father is only a farmer, a wealthy man through hard work. He is slightly above a peasant and slightly below the nobility.”
“Nonsense,” Tate said softly. “If you are relation to the barons of Northumberland, then you are clearly entitled to be called ‘my lady’. And when you are my wife, you will be much more.”
Toby just stared at him, her hazel eyes limpid with a doe-eyed expression. It was clear that she was still struggling to digest everything. “Will you tell me something more?” she asked softly.
He was moving closer to her, inspecting her, devouring her with his gaze. “Anything.”
“Will you tell me about your wife?”
His dark eyes gazed at her with mild surprise. “What do you wish to know?”
She shrugged, averting her gaze. “I… I suppose I was just wondering who she was and how you met her.” She looked up at him again, speaking quickly. “You do not have to tell me if you do not want to. I am only curious and nothing more. I would hold only the highest respect for her, I assure you.”
He gazed at her a moment before a smile tugged at his lips. “I would never think otherwise,” he said quietly. “And I suppose it is natural to be curious; therefore, her name was Catherine and she was a member of the de Broase family, close allies of the de Laras. We were pledged many years ago, in fact, when she was slightly more than a child. I was fifteen years older than her when we married; she was only sixteen.”
Toby nodded every so often, listening to every word. “I take it that she did not have appalling manners like me,” she quipped softly.
He laughed. “Nay, she did not,” he replied. “She was a sweet little thing with big green eyes and a funny laugh. But she had never been in the best of health. When she conceived our daughter, the pregnancy was terrible. She was in bed for the duration. And when it came to deliver the child… well, suffice it to say that her body could not handle the strain. She passed away shortly after the stillborn birth.”
Toby put her hand on his. “I am sincerely sorry,” she said quietly. “It must have been devastating for you.”
“It was,” he agreed quietly. “Catherine and I were together less than a year, but in that year, she showed me something of love. It was a surprise.”
Toby smiled faintly. “That she showed you how to love?”
“That I could feel love.” He looked at Toby’s face, moving an index finger along her cheek to her jaw line. There was something smoldering in his gaze that seduced and devoured her. “I never imagined I could experience the emotion. I thought it was impossible. Then when she died, I thought all of my ability to feel any emotion had died with her. And then I met you.”
Toby’s heart was pounding painfully against her ribs as his storm cloud eyes gazed at her intensely. His touch was hot, gentle, moving across her chin and down her neck, scorching her until she could hardly breathe.
“You felt nothing but frustration with me at first,” she said in a ragged voice. “Of that, you were clear.”
The corner of his mouth twitched and he shifted his body, moving closer still. His hands gripping her upper arms, trapping her. “Frustration then fascination,” he said hoarsely. “From fascination to awe. And then from awe to….”
He didn’t finish as his mouth suddenly clamped down over hers, his lips warm and soft and gentle. But a moment later, his enormous arms were wrapping around her slender body and he was pulling her fiercely against him. He kissed her as he had never kissed a woman before, unrestrained and potent. He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her fast enough. She was sweet and soft and his tongue demanded entry into her mouth, taking advantage of it when she opened timidly to him. He swooped in, licking her, tasting her, feeling his heart pound in his ears and his loins grow harder by the second.
As Tate dominated, Toby submitted. Normally aggressive by nature, it seemed to be her inherent reaction to surrender when being passionately dominated. Her arms were around his neck as he ravaged her, his mouth moving over her cheeks, lips, neck and to her shoulders. In the warm sleeping shift that Ailsa had packed, there was nothing between the garment and her nakedflesh. Tate held her ferociously against his torso with his right hand while his left began to wander.
Toby was aware of his lips on her shoulder, his hand moving across her back to her forearm. She was muddle-headed, feeling each new sensation as if she were feeling repeated strikes of lightening. Everything made her quiver and shake. When his big hand moved to her abdomen, she shuddered, and when it finally moved up her torso to gently cup her right breast, she nearly bolted.
Tate held her fast, his mouth coming up from her shoulder. “I am sorry,” he murmured. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
