“Wales. I hear that is where you were born. Is it like Northumberland?”
“In a sense; Wales is more mountainous.”
“I hear that it is a wild place.”
“No wilder than the borders of Scotland.” He rubbed his chin with a gauntlet-clad hand. “What were we just speaking? Oh, yes. Laughing. I would suspect you do not do it nearly enough. Perhaps if you did, it would ease your brutish manner. It might make you more attractive to a husband.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “How did I graduate from an appalling manner to a brutish one?”
He was struggling not to smile at her, but he couldn’t help it. He had a devilishly attractive smile, his teeth straight and white. “Forgive me for moving you up the ranks so swiftly.”
“At least have the courtesy not to do so until I have done something to warrant it.”
“Of course, mistress. My most genuine apologies.”
“Accepted.”
Much to his surprise, she was showing a delightful sense of humor. He would never have guessed. “Thank you,” he covered his heart with one hand sincerely. “Now, tell me; why do you not laugh more often than you apparently do?”
“How often do you know I laugh? You have known me for less than a day.”
“I can see it in your expression. It is as if your entire face is surprised to show a measure of delight.”
She looked away peevishly, but it was in jest. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Is your life so bad that you have no reason to laugh?”
“The sheep should be up this road about a mile and a half. If we pick up the pace, we will be there in well less than an hour.”
“I do not want to pick up the pace and neither do you.”
“I do not?”
“Nay. But you do want to answer my question.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “I see a pattern in you. Last night, you bullied me about marriage. Today, it is laughter. You talk more than any man I have ever met.”
“Not really.”
The conversation had been flowing easily until that moment. Suddenly, Tate seemed to quiet and Toby found herself sorry she had shut him up. She truly hadn’t meant to; she had been enjoying the conversation very much. With every step the horses took, the silence grew more and more deafening.
“I smile as much as I am able, I suppose,” she finally said. “It seems as if there is not much reason to at times. I rise in the morning and take care of my invalid mother before I go and assist my father in conducting business with his farm. My father rises early in the morning and is usually drunk by noon and cares little for the daily operations of our farm. He did, once,but no longer. By the time I am finished handling his affairs, I must tend my mother again and my younger sister and see to the management of Forestburn. If my manner seems appalling to you at times, it is perhaps because it has to be. There is no one but me to see to the care of my family and this business my father has worked so hard to achieve. I am strong because I have to be.”
By the time she had finished, Tate was gazing at her intently. The mist had turned to freezing rain, dripping off of his dark lashes. He spurred his charger up a few paces until he was next to her, looking down at her from a gray warhorse that was a head taller than her mount.
“If I offended you with my comments on your demeanor, then I am truly sorry,” he said quietly. “I can see now that my observations were incorrect.”
“Not necessarily. I can be quite aggressive at times.”
“It seems to me that you have had much responsibility laid upon you and instead of allowing it to crush you, you became strong with it. I would not call that aggressive. I would call that survival.”
She was coming to feel foolish for telling him everything about her when they hardly knew each other. Moreover, the man was her liege, not a peer, and the realization made her feel increasingly awkward. But she didn’t have any friends to speak of, at least no one she could confide in, and the words had just tumbled out. There was far too much familiarity with Tate. Self-preservation swept her when she realized his last statement sounded too much like pity.
“Forgive me for explaining too much,” she sounded crisp. “I was not complaining and my apologies if I sounded as such. My life is truly nothing to be sorry for. We are better off than most people.”
Where Tate had seen vulnerability moments earlier, it was swiftly replaced by the guarded woman he had come to associate her with. He liked the vulnerability much better.
“I never thought you were complaining, mistress. You were simply answering my question.”
