“Then go and dress,” he instructed. “I will prepare an escort to take us into town.”
Toby was in a daze, pausing a moment to pick up the kitten before she left the chapel.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “So soon, I mean? We only just became betrothed yesterday.”
He paused as they stepped out into the sun, the excited expression on his face dampening somewhat. “There I go again,” he muttered. “I am forcing myself upon you and not giving you any say in the matter.”
She shook her head. “That is not what I meant,” she said quickly. “’Tis simply that I do not want you to feel as if you must rush into this after what happened last….”
She couldn’t even say it, lowering her gaze and looking away. Even though she did not regret what had happened, still, she was not yet brave enough to speak frankly of it. Strange, given her frank nature. Tate’s dark eyes twinkled and he put his hands on her arms again, pulling her up against him. His forehead rested against the top of her lowered head.
“What happened to us last night only made me realize that I cannot wait any longer to call you wife,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “The sooner we wed, the happier we will be.”
She lifted her eyes, smiling shyly at him, and he laughed softly as he kissed her again, this time on her soft lips. He wanted to do more but dared not make a spectacle in public. At least, not until she was legally his. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he escorted her in the direction of the keep.
He couldn’t even tell her what was truly on his mind after his conversation with Stephen that morning. They were headed to London as soon as the gates were repaired and he was loath to leave her behind. In fact, he couldn’t even stomach the thought. At the moment, he simply wanted to feel his joy at becoming Toby’s husband. The rest, he would deal with at the appropriate time.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“He took awife,” the general announced.
Hamlin’s eyebrows rose. “Who did?”
“De Lara,” the general said it as if he could hardly believe it. “One of our men trailed them from the castle into the town yesterday and saw them at the church. He married her yesterday.”
Hamlin’s surprise only increased. “Two days after a siege, he marries?” He looked at the men seated around him; they were still in the encampment in the woods where they had been for three days. It had been a relatively uneventful period until this shocking bit of news. De Roche was astounded. “De Lara must not have a care in the world if he is taking a wife at this time. A very strange move for a usually guarded man.”
The general shrugged. “Who knows why men do what they do? All I know is that he has indeed married. A very beautiful woman from what I am told.”
De Roche turned to his general, his mind working over the information. “And you trust the source?”
The general nodded. “The same man who tailed them to Cartingdon. In fact, he believes de Lara’s wife to be the Cartingdon heiress but he cannot be sure.”
For three days they had been mulling over their next move, sending out spies to see if they could gain headway on de Lara’s movements. So far, they had received nothing useful. Harbottle had been swiftly repaired and Warkworth’s army remained. There were reports that reinforcements were arriving from Alnwick, but so far, they’d seen no truth of that. The hope was that Mortimer’s army would arrive from the Marches before Alnwick arrived to support Harbottle. In either case, the impending battle would prove to be explosive. At the moment, they were playing a waiting game.
“So de Lara marries,” Hamlin stroked his chin and began to pace. He held up a finger. “This is good news, in fact. Here we sit, waiting for Mortimer’s reinforcements, all the while looking to find a weakness we can use against de Lara. If we can exploit him, then a battle will be unnecessary. Lives will be saved. That is a good thing.”
The general who had delivered the news sat next to the old vizier, trying to generate some heat back into his bones. The pouring rain outside had all of them wet and cold.
“So tell us why this is such good news?” he demanded as he took some wine for himself.
Hamlin smiled coldly. “A weakness,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What motivates a man more than warfare?”
The others looked around like idiots, trying to glean an answer from vacant expressions. The old general finally spoke. “What?”
Hamlin looked at the fools around him and shook his head. “Love,” he said obviously. “Love motivates a man more than warfare. We can lay siege to his castle, burn his troops, kill his friends and de Lara will not falter. But take his wife and the man will bargain.”
The men in the tent continued to look at each other, some in understanding, some in disagreement. Hamlin threw the cup in his hand to the ground and tossed up his arms.
“Fools,” he snapped. “We get the woman and de Lara will give us whatever we want. This entire war will be over.”
The general finally shook his head. “There are no guarantees,” he said. “Perhaps de Lara was forced to marry her. Perhaps he does not care for her in the least.”
Hamlin put his hands on his hips. “He marries in the midst of a crisis? I would say this is more than a forced marriage. A man would only do such a thing in the middle of this hell only if he wanted to.”
“So you are saying use the woman against him?”
Hamlin nodded as if the man was a simpleton. “De Lara’s weakness. We have found it.”
