“Why is he here?”
“I would like to know that myself.”
Toby stared at herself in the mirror, seeing Kenneth’s reflection also as he looked at her. Feelings of helplessness and restlessness swept her. She closed her eyes tightly and clenched her fists.
“I do not want to be here any longer,” she hissed. “I want to go back to Harbottle or Forestburn or wherever Tate wants to live.” She suddenly looked up, gazing at him in the reflection of the mirror. Her hazel eyes welled. “I just want to go home.”
Kenneth nodded. “I know,” he said gently. “But we cannot at the moment.”
She turned to look at him beseeching. “When, Kenneth? When will he come for me?”
“I do not know, Toby. You must be patient. He will come.”
Toby opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Timothy blowing into the room. He hadn’t even knocked. Both Kenneth and Toby watched him as he went straight for Toby with a pewter chalice in his hand.
“Here, my lady,” he thrust the cup at her. “Drink this. It will be very good for the baby.”
Toby’s eyes widened. So did perpetually stone-faced Kenneth’s; his expression gradually morphed until he looked as if he was about to explode.
“What baby?” he demanded in an uncharacteristic burst.
Timothy looked at him with surprise. “She did not tell you?” he clucked softly. “Our lovely lady is pregnant, knight. You donot think that her outbursts and tantrums have been the mark of her normal disposition, do you? Lady de Lara is expecting. We must take great care of her now.”
Kenneth looked at Toby, who gazed back at him somewhat fearfully. He just stared at her, a million thoughts rolling through his head. He began to look unsteady.
“Does Mortimer know?” he asked, his tone oddly tight.
Toby shook her head, wary of his reaction. “Of course not.”
Kenneth did a very strange thing then; he exhaled loudly and sought the nearest chair as if all of his strength had suddenly left him. As he sat heavily, his ice-blue eyes fixed on her in shock.
“Toby, you have no idea…,” he trailed off, regrouping his thoughts. He was, frankly, reeling. “God’s Blood, are you sure?”
She sensed that he wasn’t entirely happy to hear her news. If he wasn’t happy, then perhaps Tate would not be happy. She suddenly felt awful about it and began to blink rapidly as her eyes started to well again.
“Fairly sure,” she was beginning to sniffle, a prelude to bursting into tears. “Why? What’s wrong? Why do you look so?”
Kenneth didn’t want to frighten her but he was, in fact, frightened himself.Tate’s legacy.Of course, he was thrilled for Tate but he was also terrified. If Mortimer knew of Lady de Lara’s pregnancy, then he feared the dynamics of the situation would change dramatically. Not only would de Lara’s wife be captive, but she could quite possibly have the child in captivity. Then Mortimer would have Tate’s entire family to bargain with. Tate had already lost one wife and child; Kenneth knew, as he lived and breathed, that Tate would not lose another.
“I am sorry,” he struggled to compose himself. “I did not mean to frighten you. But you must understand the seriousness of this situation. Mortimer must not know that you carry Tate’s child.”
She sniffled. “I did not plan to tell him.”
He was glad she had not asked for more of an explanation; it would have frightened her further and he was trying very hard not to upset her. “Good,” he sighed. “You must adhere to that vow. It is important.”
“I will,” she was giving him a pouting face. “But why?”
So much for not having to explain his reasons to her. “Because Mortimer will use the child against Tate just as he is using you,” he tried not to sound too intense. “What man would not risk everything for his wife and child?”
Her face darkened, somewhere between guilt and anger. “He would not harm the baby, would he?”
“Nay. But Tate would risk his life for you both. The harm, if any, would come to Tate.”
She looked as if she was about to cry again but steeled herself. Naïve as she was about war and politics, she was getting a very quick lesson on the brutality of warfare. Fortunately, she was a good student. She understood the seriousness of the situation.
“We must keep this secret very safe, then,” she looked at Timothy, the earl’s physic. “You will not tell him, of course.”
Kenneth looked at Timothy, too; he was the only uncertain element in all of this and Kenneth still did not trust him. But at the moment, he had little choice.
