Astonished, Ailsa’s head snapped in the direction of the table. Not surprisingly, Edward was no longer eating. He was staring wide-eyed at Toby, his expression one of a mouse caught in a trap.
Toby’s pale face was clouded with loathing as she met his stare. “It would have been the decent thing to tell us who you really were rather than carry on a lie that would cost us everything,” she directed her venom at the boy. “At least if we had known, we could have made an effort to protect ourselves. But you left us open and vulnerable without regard for our safety. Is that the kind of king you really are? Do you care nothing for your subjects?”
Slowly, Edward rose to his feet, swallowing what was left in his mouth. He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand.
“How did you know who I was?” he asked with surprising firmness.
Toby sighed heavily, her weakness growing. Lamely, she lifted an arm and let it slip back down to her side. “I did not for certain until this very moment,” she realized that she felt overwhelming sadness more than anything. “We have lost everything because of you. Why did you have to come to Cartingdon in the first place? Why could you not have simply left us alone?”
“Because Cartingdon is my holding and I serve the king.”
Tate emerged from the stair hall, his storm cloud eyes riveted to Toby. His progression into the room was slow, deliberate, the expression on his face unreadable. He had heard most of her rant as he came down the stairs, not surprised that she had figured out who the young squire was. She was a very smart woman. He found himself oddly torn as he faced off against her; torn between remorse and duty. He was sorry she had been put through such trauma but it had been, in fact, in the line of duty. And he was not going to apologize for his sense of duty.
Toby watched him as he moved towards her, his stalking gait and powerful form. The terror she had initially felt was fading, being replaced by a strange numbness. Her body was shaking with fatigue and emotion and it was increasingly difficult to hold a thought.
“You should have told me who he was,” her voice was quivering. “Out of trust and generosity, we showed you hospitality and you allowed harm to come to my family. If this is the kind of king that Edward plans to be then I will side with Mortimer before I trust him again. He has allowed us to come to devastation.”
She was so pale that she was gray; Tate knew she wasn’t feeling well but he was having difficulty keeping his temperdown. He was extremely protective of Edward, even against an ill young woman who had every right to be angry.
“In the first place, Mistress Elizabetha, it is not your right to know the business of the king,” he said steadily. “In the second place, you have no choice in who you trust or support during this dark time. I am your liege and you will support whom I dictate.”
“My parents are dead because you withheld the truth,” she fired back with more strength than she felt. “My home is burned and my life devastated. You are no better than Mortimer’s men sneaking around in the mist except that you deliver your deception under the guise of virtue.”
“There was no deception.”
“We trusted you!”
The last exchange was rapid-fire, overlapping, Tate’s calm voice against Toby’s agitated one. They stared at each other, feeling more emotion than they should have. Toby was filled with sorrow for reasons she could not begin to understand while Tate resisted the urge to beg her forgiveness. He did not like to see her so upset, especially when he knew she was right. He had tried to leave Forestburn before things got too dangerous, but the threat had come too quickly. It had been upon them before they realized it and had been the cause of the destruction of her home. But he would not surrender.
“You are overwrought,” he said, his voice quieter as he tried to calm the situation. “Let me take you to rest. You will feel better when you have had some sleep.”
She shook her head and turned away from him, almost falling for the weakness in her legs. “Nay,” she whispered. “I… I want to go home. I must leave this place.”
“Why?”
She whirled to him and ended up stumbling against the wall. “Because whatever poison follows that boy will come here and destroy us all. I do not want to be here when it comes. I do notwant my sister to fall victim to it. If you will not protect us, then I will.”
Tate could feel himself softening. “So the true reason is revealed,” he murmured, taking slow steps in her direction. “You do not feel that I will protect you.”
On the verge of collapse, tears welled in Toby’s hazel eyes. “You did not protect my parents.”
He was almost upon her as she slumped against the wall, his storm cloud eyes gentle as he gazed into her pale, lovely face. “Had I known what harm was to come, I would have most certainly done my best to protect you,” he said quietly. “But I swear to you now, upon my oath, that I will protect you with my life; you and your sister. No harm will come to you as long as I have breath in my body, Elizabetha. Please believe me.”
She stared up at him with her almond-shaped eyes, so beautiful yet so sorrowful. When she finally blinked, fat tears splashed onto her cheeks. Tate moved in closely; so close, in fact, that his torso brushed against hers. His voice was low, soothing.
“Do not blame the boy,” he murmured. “He has sorrow enough with his mother and her lover attempting to destroy him. We never meant that your family should fall to destruction.”
She sobbed softly, unable to continue with the conversation. Without another word, Tate swept her into his arms, feeling more relief than he would admit when her arms went around his neck and she wept quietly against his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to soothe away her fears. His gaze found Ailsa, a few feet away, and he smiled weakly at her.
“Come along, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “You and your sister are off to bed.”
Ailsa trotted after him as he quit the hall. The chamber on the third floor was dusty but passable. Tate put Toby on the bed and covered her with the cleanest blanket he could find, a dusty oldthing that had been tossed into a corner. Ailsa climbed in next to her and Toby wound her arms around her sister, holding her tight. Tate pulled the blanket over Ailsa as well and tucked them both in very tightly, like a father tending his children. But Toby was still weeping softly and he just couldn’t leave her in that state. He felt responsible. After a moment’s deliberation, he lay down against Toby and pulled both ladies into his arms.
“Go to sleep,” he kissed the back of Toby’s head as he felt Ailsa squirm around to get comfortable. “Nothing will happen to you, I swear it. You may sleep peacefully.”
Toby didn’t even protest, nor did she say a word. She simply lay there, a hiccup now and again as her tears faded. She could feel him against her and rather than fight it, she accepted the comfort it gave her. Through all of the illness and turmoil over the past few days, Tate had proven himself to be a rock. At the moment, she needed the rock, no matter how unattainable he was. For the moment, she would pretend otherwise.
Tate lay with his chest against her back, feeling her soft body against him and thinking there was surely nothing more wonderful in the world. His thoughts began to drift to the day he first saw her and how beautiful he thought she was in spite of her boorish demeanor. But that opinion had quickly fled; she wasn’t boorish at all. She was simply strong, opinionated and intelligent. As his mind began to reflect on the days past and the moments when he saw her smile, Ailsa’s head suddenly popped up.
