“Do you suppose that you shall become Lady Dragonblade?” she asked innocently.
With a scowl, Toby smacked her sister on the behind and Ailsa yelped. “No more talk of that,” she hissed. “I am in no mood for it.”
Ailsa made all sorts of faces at her sister, who soundly ignored her. When Ailsa realized that her sister was not reacting, she turned back to the fire. It was warm and wonderful on her face and she began to perk up. Her bright eyes moved about the hall, inspecting it, her curiosity now outweighing her disorientation.
The sounds of boots suddenly smacked in the keep entry. Both Ailsa and Toby turned to see Kenneth and the young squire entering the keep. Kenneth was removing his helm and peeling back his hauberk as Edward began sneezing. Ailsa left her post by the fire and ran to the squire.
“Are you ill?” she asked eagerly. “My father told me that wine cures all illness. Perhaps you should drink.”
Edward took on the familiar petrified look as Ailsa focused her attention on him. He veered away from her, moving to the opposite side of the great table, but Ailsa followed him. When he sat, she sat. Edward sneezed again, trying not to sneeze on Ailsa as she sat right next to him.
“Do you feel ill?” she pressed.
Edward shook his head, trying to discreetly scoot away from her. “Nay, I am fine. Just dust in my nose.”
Ailsa saw that he moved away from her and she closed the gap. “It is good that you are not ill. Toby is only now feeling better; is that not so, Toby?”
Toby turned to look at her sister as she pursued the terrified squire across the bench. Edward would scoot and Ailsa would scoot right after him. She motioned to her sister.
“Ailsa, come over here to the fire,” she was attempting to help the lad out. “’Tis too cold over there.”
Ailsa wouldn’t even look at her sister; she was gazing adoringly up at the pale-faced squire. “Where were you born?” she asked him.
Edward looked at her with the same fear that one would have when gazing upon a man-eating beast. “I… I was born in London.”
Ailsa batted her big green eyes at him. “I have never been to London. I hope to go someday. Do you suppose you will ever go back?”
Edward was starting to grow red around the ears. “I hope to.”
“Ailsa,” Toby hissed firmly. “Come over by the fire. If I have to get up to retrieve you, you will be very sorry.”
Ailsa noticed her sister, then. Threats always made her notice, mostly because she knew that Toby wasn’t bluffing. But she wouldn’t give up so easily; she grabbed Edward by the hand and began climbing off the bench.
“Come over by the fire,” she urged him. “It is warmer there. You can tell me more about London.”
Edward didn’t want to yank his hand away but he was truly terrified of the young girl. He followed her dumbly until they got within range of Toby, who mercifully reached out and disengaged her sister’s grip on the young man.
“Leave him alone,” she told her sister quietly. “He has duties to attend to.”
Ailsa looked outraged, then disappointed. She gazed up at the tall young man. “Do you really have duties to attend to?”
Edward nodded feebly. “I… I must bed the horses.”
“Go, then,” Toby said, smiling encouragingly at him when he didn’t move. “If you do not, then Ailsa will talk your ear off.”
Edward nodded, his gaze moving between Toby and Ailsa, before fleeing the hall. Toby watched him go until a large obstacle was suddenly in her line of sight. Kenneth had moved up to the fire, his big body blocking out half the hall from where he stood. As Ailsa moved away to pout, Toby shook her head and returned her attention to the blaze.
“Your squire is going to have to learn to stand up for himself,” she muttered to Kenneth. “Ailsa will take over his will to live if he is not careful.”
Much to her surprise, Kenneth actually snorted. “He has more courage than he displays,” he replied, holding up his big hands to warm them. “I would not worry about him.”
Toby lifted an eyebrow as if she didn’t believe him. “How old is he?”
“Fourteen years,” Kenneth replied.
Again, Toby shook her head. “And Ailsa is ten. She will soon be asking if he is betrothed. She is desperate, even at her age, to find a mate. I do believe she has little friends telling her that she must be wed by the time she is fourteen or she will become a spinster like me.”
Kenneth did look at her, then. “As for the squire, tell your sister to set her sights on someone else as he is already betrothed,” he told her. “As for you being a spinster, I suspect that will not be true forever.”
