“And wear something delicious. I should like to show you off.”
“I am not yours to show off.”
Mortimer cocked an eyebrow. “You are indeed my guest to display as I please.”
Kenneth could feel Toby tensing in his arms again and he gave her a quick squeeze, silently telling her to behave. She was close to exploding. Still, she managed to keep a civil tongue.
“As you wish, my lord.”
She said it through clenched teeth and Kenneth very quickly swept her towards the castle before she could say something more that would have them all in trouble. Just as they came to the muddy road leading into the big gatehouse, Toby pushed herself out of Kenneth’s arms with a growl.
“Ooooo,” she stomped her feet angrily. “I do not want to attend him at the nooning meal and I do not want to entertain his visitors. I hate him, I hate this place, and right now I hate you for stealing my candied pumpkin. I want to go home!”
She suddenly burst into tears, weeping angrily. Kenneth struggled to keep a straight face as he and Timothy moved forward to comfort her.
“You are simply exhausted, my lady,” Kenneth said evenly, taking her elbow. “Let us go inside where you may rest.”
“I do not want to rest!” she stomped her feet again, a full-blown tantrum quickly approaching. “I want to get out of here. I want my husband. Why has he not come for me yet?”
Kenneth had her by the arm as he led her under the gatehouse. She was pouting and weepy, angry one moment and sad the next. Timothy kept his head lowered lest she see his grin and Kenneth tried to focus on anything other than her comical ranting. He tried to think of battles, bloody wounds and ugly women. But he was losing the fight.
“Come along, Toby,” Kenneth pushed aside the formalities as he had many times during their captivity. “Go inside and rest.I will go find you more candied pumpkin if it will make you happy.”
She sobbed, stepping in a big mud puddle and wailing when she saw that she had completely mucked the bottom of the lovely surcoat. It was all Kenneth could do to keep a smile off his face; she was hysterically funny. With a patient sigh, he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the keep.
She sobbed and muttered as she made her way into the enormous keep of Wigmore. It was cloyingly warm as the result of several blazing fires; Mortimer did not like the cold and the keep was generally kept quite warm. It was also a vast and luxurious place as far as castles went; creature comforts were everywhere. Kenneth and Timothy escorted Toby to the third floor where her chamber was located. But she came to a halt just outside the elaborate bower door, yanking her arm from Kenneth’s grip.
“I am hungry,” she announced. “Go and get more pumpkin.”
Kenneth just looked at her, his ice-blue eyes glimmering with humor. Nodding his head wearily, he turned for the stairs. But he apparently wasn’t moving fast enough and Toby swatted him on the shoulder as he began to descend the stairs.
“’Tis your fault so you need not blame me,” she told him. “You ate my pumpkin so now you must find me more. And if you see anything else that looks good, I want that, too.”
“God give me strength,” Kenneth muttered.
Toby heard him mumble. “What did you say?”
He turned to look at her, his normally stony expression oddly animated. “I said, I am going right away,” he looked at the physic. “Take her inside and put her to bed. Sit on her if you have to. And give her something to improve her disposition, for God’s sake. I am not sure how much more of this tyranny I can take.”
Toby’s face screwed up angrily. “Come back here, St. Héver. Come back and say that to my face!”
She was holding up a balled fist. Kenneth opened his mouth to calmly retort but he ended up breaking down into laughter. He couldn’t help it; it was just too comical to believe. Toby was furious a moment longer before erupting into a grin; an angry grin, but a grin nonetheless.
“I hate you, Kenneth,” she told him sincerely as he continued down the stairs. “I truly do.”
“I know,” he replied, dead-pan. “You hate me and my mother, my grandmother, my father and every ancestor before him, my horse, my….”
He faded off as he went. Toby, softened by his reaction to her temper, realized she sounded like a complete shrew. She stood at the top of the stairs and called down to him.
“I love you as if you were my own brother, Kenneth,” she called after him.
“I know,” his reply was very faint.
“Now bring me my pumpkin!” she screeched.
She swore she heard him laughing again. Turning for her bower, she almost forgot about Timothy standing there, grinning at the exchange between her and the knight. She walked up to him, eyeing him critically.
“Are you really going to sit on me?”
