She smiled bravely at him and he nearly came apart. He just knew it was something awful. Toby squeezed his hand and released him, turning for Roger.
Mortimer was gazing at her with suspicion and delight, an odd combination. Toby’s heart was pounding in her chest as she summoned the courage to do as she must. She had reviewed her plan as she had ridden to Wigmore and was convinced that the only way to gain Tate’s freedom would be to play on Isabella’s jealousies. More than that, it was the only plan she had. She could not think of anything else. She prayed that it was enough.
“My lord,” she addressed Roger steadily. “I have returned to offer myself to you in return for my husband’s life. You once offered a proposition to me; one night for St. Héver’s life. I have returned to offer you the same proposition with one change; one night for my husband’s life. I will spend a night of passion with you if you will release him. Will you accept?”
Roger visibly blanched, his gaze darting to Isabella as she stood near Tate. But he could not wait for her reaction. He looked back at Toby, his nerves evident as he spoke.
“You must have misunderstood, Lady de Lara,” he replied. “I never made such an offer to you.”
Toby cocked an eyebrow. “I believe we have several witnesses to your proposition who will swear that I did not misunderstand you,” she said. “I have returned to make you the same offer with the mentioned changes provided that the Queen approves.”
The mood of the room suddenly turned dark and brittle; all eyes turned to Isabella, whose cheeks were turning a dull shade of pink. She gazed back at Toby with the stark jealousy that all women have when facing a younger, more beautiful rival. But instead of focusing her venom on Toby, she looked at Roger.
“Did you ask this of this woman?” she demanded, her voice low and shaky.
Roger shook his head. “Of course I did not.”
Isabella sighed sharply, her jaw ticking and her dark eyes burning. Toby, watching the interaction, knew it was time to act. If she was going to succeed as planned, then she needed tobe strong and dramatic. Bursting into loud sobs, she suddenly buried her face in her hands.
“It is true,” she wept loudly. “He tried to force himself on me again and again. He told me that he would kill St. Héver if I did not spend a night of passion with him. He was most descriptive in his desires, how he wished to taste my flesh and gorge himself on my delicacies. I… I did not know what to do. Now that he has my husband, I felt that I had to offer myself in order to gain his freedom. I had to come back!”
It was an overwrought performance at best. Tate stared at her, torn between the urge to tear Mortimer apart with his bare hands and his curiosity on how Isabella was going to react. He could see what Toby was doing; God bless her, he knew exactly what she was doing and had to admit that it was brilliant. He had tried to do the same thing but Toby was playing upon the queen’s jealousies far better than he ever could. So he held his tongue, and his fists, to wait for the queen’s reaction.
It wasn’t long in coming. Isabella’s face darkened with fury and she clenched her little fists, pushing her way past Stephen and standing next to Toby. She stood for a moment, watching the woman’s lowered head as she sobbed. Her lips pressed into an angry, flat line.
“Did he touch you while you were his guest at Wigmore?” she demanded.
Toby bawled. “He touched my… my….”
She appeared too distraught to continue. Even Tate was on edge. Isabella reached out and shook her.
“Where did he touch you?”
Toby took one hand away from her face and put it on her inner right thigh, very close to the junction where her legs joined. “Here!”
The location could have been interpreted many ways. Isabella’s nostrils flared and the grip on Toby’s arms turned gentler. It was evident that the queen was struggling.
“Did he do anything else?” she asked, quieter.
Toby shook her head, still weeping. “He did not,” she sobbed. “But the fact that he would want to… after all, I am pregnant with my husband’s child but it made no difference to him. He wanted to bed me regardless. It is a disgusting and unholy desire.”
Tate went from coolly observant to wildly shocked all in a split second. He leaned in Mortimer’s direction, or perhaps he swayed; in either case, Stephen was there to grab him. Or steady him. Together the two of them stared at Toby, stunned, as Isabella seemed to morph into something rarely seen. She became enraged, like an avenging angel, and swung on Mortimer viciously. Roger barely had time to draw a breath before she was plowing into him with the fury of a woman betrayed.
“Is this true?” she roared.
Roger was taken aback; he had never heard that tone from her. But the man stood his ground. “It is not true!”
Isabella’s jaw flexed dangerously. “You… you foul beast,” she hissed. “I have known of your desires for other women all of these years but I have ignored your tastes because… because….”
She growled, sweeping her arm across the table directly to her right and scattering the cups and utensils to the floor. Everything crashed with a clamoring noise but she wasn’t done yet; she clenched her fists and howled angrily. As the room stood in stunned silence, including Roger, Isabella turned to Tate.
“Take your wife and go,” she commanded, whirling to Roger with an extended arm. “If you refute my order, I will take all you hold dear and destroy it. Do you understand?I will destroy you.”
Tate didn’t wait to be told twice. He grabbed Toby, nodding quickly to Stephen and Wallace. The two knights fell in behind him, Stephen facing the crowd to challenge anyone who might try to stop them. Wallace leveled his broadsword against the room as they made their way to the exit. Suddenly, they had the upper hand. Trapped inside the Mortimer stronghold, they were now stronger than those who held them.
Roger watched the group head towards the cavernous threshold, his attention split between furious Isabella and his captives. Isabella’s anger finally won out and he focused on her completely.
“You are making a mistake,” he told her softly. “I did none of those things. I am ever faithful to you, my love. Youknowthis.”
