She wasn’t following him. “I am fine.”
He lifted his blond eyebrows at her in a manner that suggested she not refute him. “You areill.I must take you out of here.”
Her brow furrowed. “I am…?”
“You are seriously ill. You cannot stay conscious any longer. You are dying, for Christ’s sake. Fall down already.”
Toby looked at him as if he had lost his mind but she understood his message. She wasn’t sure why she needed to leave but in reflection, it didn’t matter. Kenneth surely had a good reason. She did as she was told and, with dramatic flourish, went limp in the chair and toppled over.
Kenneth wasn’t prepared for her the swiftness of her act but caught her before she could strike her head on the chair next to her. He scooped her up into his arms, hoping he could get her free of the hall before anyone noticed. But Mortimer, in spite of his attentions on the queen, noticed almost immediately. All attention turned to Kenneth and Toby as the knight was thwarted from slipping out unaware.
“What is wrong with Lady de Lara?” Mortimer asked with great concern.
Kenneth shifted her in his arms so that her head wasn’t hanging up-side down. “I do not know, my lord,” he replied honestly. “Perhaps she is simply overwrought.”
Isabella’s gaze was intense on Toby as she moved past Roger, studying the lovely women passed out in Kenneth’s arms. All eyes were on the queen as she observed Toby’s face, her hands, her body. She was inspecting her, secretly satisfying herself on this woman who had managed to capture Tate’s heart. What she saw did not disappoint her.
“So this is Lady de Lara,” she murmured, reaching out as if to touch Toby’s hair but stopping just short of it. She glanced at Kenneth as she drew her hand away in an almost embarrassed gesture. “She is lovely. You must take her to rest immediately, of course.”
“Perhaps she needs a physic,” Roger said, suspicion in his eyes. He didn’t trust St. Héver not to run off with Lady de Lara but he could not do anything about it at the moment. “Perhaps I should send Timothy with you.”
“Or perhaps she simply needs to be left alone,” Isabella looked at Roger. “I suspect she has had more than enough company for the duration of her stay with you.”
It was a direct rebuke and Roger shut his mouth to any further protest. Kenneth didn’t wait for further debate and whisked Toby out of the hall, moving faster than he should have and praying that Roger did not become overly suspicious. Just as he neared the stairs, Timothy suddenly appeared.
“’Tis the excitement,” the physic was trying to get a look at the lady but Kenneth was being most evasive. “Mortimer has given her more than she can handle.”
Kenneth shifted Toby so that her head was against his shoulder, trying to keep the physic from getting too close. “She will be fine. She simply needs to rest.”
Timothy cocked an eyebrow at him. “I am the one who will determine her health, if you do not mind.”
Kenneth’s gaze didn’t waver. “Trust me; the lady is fine.”
Timothy ignored him, managing to put his fingers against Toby’s neck to feel a pulse. “Her heart feels strong enough.”
“It is,” Toby’s eyes opened but her head didn’t move; she looked at the startled physic. “Did you not hear Kenneth? I am fine.”
Momentary surprise was replaced by confusion. “But…?”
“Please do not ask questions.”
The physic stood with his mouth gaping. “But… what will I tell Mortimer?”
Toby hissed at him. “Tell him that you put me to bed and that I should sleep for hours. Tell him not to disturb me, no matter what.”
“Are you going to rest?”
“Nay.”
“Then where are you going?”
Toby dared to lift her head, looking at Kenneth. “I do not know. But I trust Kenneth.”
Timothy was perplexed but refrained from arguing. Kenneth left him standing in the entry hall as he took Toby out into the muddy bailey. By the time they hit the ward, Toby’s head came up again.
“Is it safe?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he shoved her head back down.
