She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”
He returned her grin, giving her a squeeze and kissing her cheek. “My pleasure, madam. Is there anything else we should discuss before I take my leave of you and return to the bailey?”
“One more thing.”
“What is that?”
She looked at him, hesitantly. “When you leave for London, will I stay here?”
His smile faded as he gazed into her almond-shaped eyes. “You will be safe here.”
She took a long, deep breath, lowering her gaze. “How… how long do you expect to be gone?”
“I do not know.”
“Are you going into battle?”
“Aye.”
She sat there, looking at her hands, before falling against him and burying her face in his shoulder. His big arms enveloped her, his face on the top of her head. As the flames in the hearth snapped and smoked, he rocked her gently in the weak light of the hall. He knew what she was feeling without benefit of words; mostly because he was feeling the same thing himself. There was already a longing for her in his heart that he could not begin to describe.
“I could not bear it if something happened to you,” her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “I have lost my entire family. I could not survive if I lost you as well.”
She could feel him sigh into the top of her head. “I am sorry to cause you such fear,” he said quietly. “But I have a destiny to fulfill and so does young Edward. A man is ruling England who has no right to the throne. I must make sure that the rightful king takes his place and that the threat of Mortimer is vanquished.”
She pulled her head from his shoulder and wiped at her face; he realized that she was crying and it touched him more than he could have imagined. Women had cried for him before, of course, but their tears had never meant anything to him. But Toby’s mattered a great deal. Before she could wipe all of her tears away, he took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.
“Elizabetha,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
It took her a moment to lift her eyes to meet his; they were still full of tears. He smiled gently, caressing her soft cheeks with his thumbs. “I have been a warrior for many years and have yet, in all that time, to become grievously injured. I can only swear that I will do my best to continue that tradition. I will do my best to return to you.”
“I could not bear it if I lost you,” she murmured, blinking and spattering tears on his hand.
He pulled her face to his lips and kissed her tenderly. “I swear to you upon my oath that I will do all in my power to ensure that you do not. I want to return to you as badly as you want me to.”
“But I am so frightened for you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You? Frightened? I do not believe it. The woman I saw this morning with a poker in her hand is not the frightened type.”
He was attempting to lighten the mood but she wanted no part of it. “Why can I not go with you to London? I swear that I will not be a burden.”
He looked at her as if she was mad, dropping his hands from her face. “I am going into battle, sweetheart. You cannot go with me.”
“I will bring my poker. I can fight alongside you.”
He stared at her. Then he burst out laughing. He put his arms around her again and held her close, chuckling.
“You probably would,” he said. “And I would be proud to have you. However, I would be more worried for you than for me and distraction in my profession can be deadly. I could not have you as a distraction, a lovely one though you may be.”
She could see that he would not be swayed. Resignation and despair filled her. “Then I hope that God will not be so cruel as to take away everyone who is close to me at the same time,” she said softly. “My father, my mother, then Ailsa… perhaps you. Do you suppose that I am being punished for all of those years I disagreed with my father at every turn or punished Ailsa when perhaps I should not have?”
He shook his head slowly, his dark eyes glittering. “I do not believe God to be a vengeful God,” he said softly. “In fact, I see him as a kind and generous God. He brought us together, did he not?”
In spite of her fear, she smiled at him, her small hands on both of his cheeks. “I am grateful that He brought you toCartingdon,” she whispered. “I never knew it was possible to feel such things.”
“Feel what things?”
Her smiled faded, her hands caressing his stubbled cheeks. After a moment, she shrugged. “Hope and joy,” she stumbled through an explanation, not exactly sure how to put her thoughts into words. “I did not think you liked me very much at first. You were quite cold.”
