As the men snorted, Toby rolled her eyes, handing Catherine over to Stephen and taking Dylan from his father.
“You will not rush these boys into battle yet,” she told them sternly, comforting her son. They were still snickering when she looked seriously at her husband. “And speaking of battle; am I to hopefully assume that yours are concluded? Are you finally home to stay?”
Tate exhaled slowly and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her head against his lips for a gentle kiss. It was Kenneth, Stephen and Wallace’s signal to give them their privacy and the three of them pretended to go about their business. But neither Tate nor Toby noticed, lost in each other’s eyes. They began to walk towards the keep.
“Edward has assumed his full authority as king,” Tate told her softly. “Mortimer is no longer a threat.”
“What happened?”
Tate was gazing up at the four-story keep as he spoke, his exhaustion evident. But it was more than his expression; it was in his manner. As if everything he had been fighting for over many years had finally caught up to him. He had the look of a very weary man.
“Mortimer was taken to the Tower shortly after we captured him,” he said quietly. “He was executed two weeks ago in London.”
Toby looked at him, shocked yet relieved. “On Edward’s orders?”
“Aye,” he replied softly. “Edward is of age now and already a powerful king. When I left, he was convening Parliament and preparing his agenda.” His thoughts drifted to the fair-haired boy, now a fair-haired man. “He is strong and intelligent. He will do well.”
“And what about you?” Toby wanted to know. “Will you do well now that you are not fighting his cause?”
He looked at her and smiled. “I will always fight his cause,” he said as they reached the steps leading into the keep. “But for now, I believe I am entitled to my own life. I deserve it.”
“Is it over with Mortimer, then?”
“It is over.”
She smiled in return, setting Dylan to his feet when the boy squirmed to be put down. Tate drew her into his arms, watching as his twins resumed their attempt to steal their older brother’s wooden sword. He relished their screaming, delighted in the chase. Their voices were like music to his ears.
“We have missed you,” Toby laid her head on his chest as they watched the boys scramble. “I was so fearful that you would not return in time for the birth of this child.”
Tate put his hand on her belly, feeling the firmness. He caressed her tummy gently, savoring the results of their deep and committed love to each other. He kissed her deeply as he continued to rub her belly, a profoundly intimate moment between the two of them.
“I would not have missed it, not for anything,” he murmured. “And you know that I will always return to you, no matter what.”
The tears that she had kept at bay finally found their way to the surface. “Will you promise me something, then?” she whispered.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he wiped the tears streaming down her cheek. “Anything you wish.”
“Will you promise me that we shall never again be apart?”
He paused a moment. “If it is within my power, I swear we will never be parted. I have missed you as much as you have missed me. More, even.”
“Can you promise me that these wars for Edward’s throne are finished?”
In truth, he could not. There were stirrings in France that Edward had already made mention of. Tate knew that, at some point, he would find himself in France fighting for the king. But he would not tell Toby that, not now when she was so emotionally brittle.
He held her at arm’s length, gazing into her sweet face. “I can promise you that I will remain here for the birth of my fourth son and that we will live happily together for the rest of our lives.”
She wiped at her eyes. “It will be a girl.”
“I could only be more blessed. What name did we decide on again?”
“Arabella Mary.”
He nodded in recollection. “Ah, yes. Arabella Mary. And if it is a boy?”
“It will not be a boy.”
He grinned at her, knowing she had probably had her fill of little boys for the moment. “As you say, madam.”
