It had been almost four weeks since her abduction and Toby had been at Wigmore a little over a week, during which time she had tried to behave herself to keep Kenneth out of harm’s way and, so far, the only time he had been punished for her bad behavior was that day on the road. He’d recovered quickly and she had maintained her cooperative attitude. But she was suffering from increasingly unstable mood swings that, although not enough to warrant punishment, had Roger unsteady. It was safer to keep Kenneth at her side to absorb her mercurial moods and stoic, emotionless Kenneth had been on the receiving end of some serious disposition highs and lows. The only other man that could tolerate Toby’s unpredictable behavior was Timothy. The small physic had developed quite an attachment to the lady and she to him. He was animated at times and he amused her. Kenneth, the stone-faced knight, seemed to tolerate the physic moderately well although he did not trust him completely. The man served Mortimer, after all. Kenneth was fairly sure that theman was a plant but said nothing to his mistress. She would not have taken it well.
On this freezing, bright day, Kenneth had escorted Toby out into the snowy field north of Wigmore to watch Roger and some of his retainers compete against each other in the sport of arrow slinging. Kenneth carried a chair out to the field for Toby and she planted herself in it, accepting the candied pumpkin that Kenneth had brought along. She chewed with boredom as Roger let fly arrow after arrow, watching with distaste as he applauded himself and made sure no one bested him. Kenneth stood silently beside Toby, declining the candied pumpkin she offered him until she grew insulted and he was forced to eat it. Then, deciding he liked it, he took the bag from her and ate all of it.
“I cannot see anything in this snow,” Mortimer announced as he finished a volley of shooting. “And someone has moved the targets. They are further away than they used to be.”
“They are exactly where they have always been, my lord,” de Roche said as he loaded his bow. “Perhaps the snow is blinding you.”
Hamlin sailed the arrow at the hay target and hit it dead on. Others congratulated him, including the generals who had served with him during the siege of Harbottle, as Roger scowled. While the men laughed and offered praise to de Roche, Roger suddenly launched an arrow that ended up very closely embedded to Hamlin’s arrow. Roger threw his hands up in victory.
“You see?” he crowed. “Not even de Roche can best me.”
Hamlin scratched his cheek, eyeing the distant target. “I believe mine is still closer, my lord.”
Roger was back to scowling. “We will solve this issue once and for all,” he turned to Toby, sitting several feet away with Kenneth and Timothy in attendance. He marched over to her, speaking as he moved. “Lady de Lara, it will be up to you todecide who is closer to the target. Will you be so gracious to judge?”
Toby had been trying to coerce Kenneth into finding her more candied pumpkin and was startled by the attention suddenly focused on her. Not wanting to play Mortimer’s game, she also did not want to see Kenneth beaten because of her refusal, so she rose to her feet obediently.
“Of course, my lord,” she said.
It was clear that she was unhappy as she stomped off towards the targets with Kenneth and Timothy in tow. Mortimer and his retainers followed. Timothy caught up to walk beside her.
“He cannot see, you know,” he muttered. “The man is as blind as a bat.”
Toby looked at him in surprise. “Mortimer?”
Timothy nodded, making sure Mortimer was not close by. “Once, he thought his wife’s gray cat was a cowl and tried to put it around his neck. Was he surprised!”
Toby burst out in giggles, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle them. Mortimer, several feet away, heard her laughing.
“You seem to be in good humor today, Lady de Lara,” he said loudly. “Would you care to share the source of your laughter?”
Toby tried to look innocent, her mind whirling as she tried to think of a plausible lie. She did not want to get Timothy in trouble with his liege.
“I am sure you would not find it so humorous, my lord,” she said, refocusing on the targets that were looming a few feet ahead. “It looks to me as if….”
Mortimer cut her off. “What was so funny? Is it a secret?”
It was apparent he would not let the subject go. The group of them came to the targets and she turned to face Mortimer with some irritation.
“Nay, my lord, it is not a secret,” she said with veiled impatience. “We were discussing cats. I had a cat that used tojump on unsuspecting people. Once it grabbed me around the neck and almost bit my ear off. That is all we were discussing– cats.”
Mortimer lifted an eyebrow at her as if he did not believe her but he let it go. He returned to the targets.
“Look and see, Lady de Lara,” he pointed to the giant bale of hay with arrows sticking out of it. “Is my arrow not closer than de Roche’s?”
Toby was tired of the game, exhausted in general. Most of all, she hated being around Mortimer and his men. They were pompous, overbearing, conceited and powerful. She found it a stifling combination. All she wanted was to go home, wherever that may, be so long as Tate was there. She missed him more with every breath and the fact that he’d not yet made it to Wigmore to rescue her was beginning to weigh quite heavily on her. It was part of the reason for her severe moods.
“Aye, it is,” she said shortly, turning to Kenneth. “My feet are wet. Carry me back to the castle, please. I am cold.”
Kenneth didn’t say a word as he bent over and scooped her into his enormous arms. Bundled against the cold as she was, she made an armful. As he walked away with Timothy beside him, Mortimer called after them.
“You will attend the nooning meal, Lady de Lara,” he said in a tone that suggested she had no choice. “I have visitors I should like for you to entertain.”
Kenneth glanced down and could see the storm brewing on her face. “Pleasantly, my lady,” he whispered. “Pleasantly.”
She looked up at him, scowling, but knew he was correct. By the time Kenneth came to a halt and turned around, Toby’s scowl was gone.
“As you wish, my lord,” she said.
