Tate’s face was expressionless. “You should be more cautious.”
“I know. I am clumsy at times.”
He didn’t reply, but there was something in his gaze that suggested he did not believe her. Later, when she climbed into bed beside the sleeping Ailsa, visions of Tate Crewys de Lara danced in her head.
CHAPTER THREE
At dawn itwas dark, foggy and wet. Toby rose after a weary night of light sleeping and donned a garment of heavy gray wool with a matching cape. It was an elegant dress meant for travel and she wore layers of soft woolen undergarments to guard against the freezing temperatures. She was still struggling to awaken as her servant brushed and plaited her long hair, catching it up in a heavy net so that it would not get wet in the disagreeable weather.
The corridor was dark as she tiptoed towards the stairs. It smelt of soot. Her father would be up soon in spite of his usual night-long drinking binge, but her mother would sleep until noon. As she passed her mother’s door, she heard the recognizable groaning. Feeling the familiar anxiety rise in her chest, anxiety she had felt since childhood, she paused and the groaning ceased. But the moment she tried to move again, her mother called out. How she wished she could simply keep walking. Resigned, Toby went into her room.
It was nearly pitch black, stinking to the rafters of feces. Toby knew her mother had soiled herself and she called softly for her mother’s servant, an older woman who was deaf in one ear. The woman woke from her pallet in the corner of the room and went to get some water at Toby’s request.
Judith was loud and miserable. “So you would leave me here to rot, would you? Where are you going?”
“I am going to conduct father’s business.”
“You are running away!”
Toby tried to keep her quiet. “Mother, I have business to attend to. I shall return shortly, I promise. Hegeltha will see to your needs this morning.”
The old servant came back into the dank chamber and Judith eyed her. “I do not want that old witch near me. She bites.”
“Nay, she does not.”
“She does, I tell you!”
Toby’s patience was waning. “She does not bite you. She is kind to you and you would do well to appreciate her.” She turned away from her mother, looking at the serving woman. “Clean her up as best you can. See that she takes some nourishment this morning.”
The woman nodded. Judith extended her good hand to her daughter. “Please,” she rasped. “Please do not leave me.”
Toby paused to look at her mother. The woman was pathetic, but still, Toby could not summon the emotion to feel pity for her. That had been taken advantage of long ago.
“I must. I shall see you when I return.”
“Nay, please.Please!”
Judith’s hand was reaching out for her, begging for contact. Against her better judgment, Toby took the outstretched fingers and was rewarded by Judith digging her jagged fingernails into her flesh.
“Do not leave me!” she hissed.
The nails drew blood immediately. Toby yanked her hand free, examining the four crescent-shaped wounds on her wrist. Judith began to twitch and cry, as close as she could come to a tantrum, as swiftly Toby vacated the room. Shutting the door to the chamber behind her so that her mother would not wake thehouse, she re-examined the bloody cuts in her soft flesh. They were swelling already and they were painful. Wincing, she pulled on the glove for that hand so that no one would see what her mother had done. To Toby, her mother’s abuse was normal, but she was ashamed to let anyone else see her misery.
Toby had left orders the night before to have her horse and a light meal ready before daybreak. The meal was waiting as she descended the stairs and entered the great hall. A fire had been started, but the room was still very chilly and smelled of old rushes. She found Tate and his party milling about the room, having already eaten some of the food laid upon the well-scrubbed table. The squire was huddled near the fire while the knights, heavily dressed and armed, stood off in the darkness. Toby heard their low voices, ceasing altogether as she entered.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she found Tate. He was standing with Stephen near the hearth, his large physique outlined by the backdrop of the blaze.
“Good morn to you, my lord,” she said.
He dipped his head in response to her greeting. “We are ready to depart, mistress.”
It was a rather clipped greeting but she didn’t care. Much to her horror, she realized that she was glad to see him. She had no idea why. It was a terrible realization and she struggled to shake off the unfamiliar feelings.
“I am ready,” she said. “Did you get enough to eat?”
“We did,” he said. “Perhaps you should take something with you.”
She took a small wedge of cheese, trying to delicately shove it into her mouth as they vacated the hall and moved out into the misty morning. Everything was soaking wet, including the horses. A couple of the dogs came sniffing around, recognizing her as she mounted her leggy warmblood. They yipped at the knights but kept a distance, especially when Tate threw a well-aimed rock at one of them. When the party moved out, they followed.
