born.”
Edward shook his head. “How many
does that make now? Five children?”
Tate nodded his head; his smile
was returning. “Roman is due to be sent to foster at Kenilworth in September,
something that my wife is not particularly thrilled with, but at seven years of
age, I have told her that it is time for my oldest son to begin his training,”
he scratched his chin again, wearily. “Cate is almost six and beautiful like
her mother, while the Alexander and Dylan are nearly five and have the entire
castle living in fear of them.”
Edward laughed. “They are
hooligans. I can hardly wait to recruit them into my service.”
Tate pursed his lips in
agreement, thinking of his aggressive blond-haired twins that were almost as
big as their eldest brother. “Arabella is three and chatters like a magpie, and
now baby Dane rounds out the bunch. My wife is going to hunt me down if I do
not return home soon to help out with the brood.”
Stephen grinned at the thought of
the Lady Elizabetha de Tobins Cartingdon de Lara, known to everyone as Toby,
tracking her husband down like a bounty hunter to return him to Forestburn
Castle. Fortunately for Tate, she was very busy with five children and hadn’t
the time to break away, but knowing Toby as they did, Stephen would not be
surprised if she found a way. She was, if nothing else, a very determined
woman.
“Enough of Lady de Lara,” Edward
waved his hands irritably, refocused on Stephen as the man found the right
piece of bread. “I want to know about Lady Pembury. Is it really true that she
has been living at Jedburgh since eleven years of age?”
Stephen picked up a piece of
cloth used to cover the bread and carefully wrapped his wife’s meal in it.
“True enough, it would seem,” he replied. “It also seems that the nuns have
educated her well. She can even read and write both Latin and French.”
“Truly?” Edward looked surprised.
“A woman with an education. Shocking.”
Tate lifted an eyebrow at him.
“Elizabetha can read and write.”
Edward made a face as if the
entire idea horrified him, thinking of his own young wife who was well versed
in most courtly things excluding the ability to read. He liked it better that
way. Beside him, Tate rose on his big legs and stretched his muscular body
wearily.
“Come along,” he said to Stephen.
“After you have fed your wife, I would have you show me the progress on the
collapsed walls. I am uncomfortable with our vulnerability at the moment. The
Scots may be defeated but they are not dead. I should not like to be caught
unaware.”
The two knights left Edward in
the hall as they made their way out into the sunshine. Being July, and near the
river, gave the air a heated, sticky quality that made wearing armor
increasingly uncomfortable. Tate rubbed at his neck where his mail grated
against his sweaty skin. To the east, they could hear the buzz of the insects
as they lay fat and lazy in the moist river grass.
“So I take it that you did not
tell Edward everything I told you last night about Lady Joselyn and her reasons
for being at Jedburgh,” Stephen muttered as they cross the mud.
Tate continued to scratch his
neck. “I did not,” he replied. “If you want him to know, then you will tell
him. That kind of information will not come from me.”
“Do you plan to interrogate her
about the soldier who raped her?” Stephen asked. “You know your men better than
I. Perhaps you will recognize someone based on her description.”
Tate nodded. “I will ask her when
the time is right,” he said, eyeing Stephen as they neared the keep. “Did you
tell her what you did for her mother?”
Stephen cleared his throat
softly. “There was nothing I could do for the woman.”
“That’s not what I meant. Did you
tell her that you personally built the coffin she lies in, which is why you did
not return to her last night? That is the reason you did not return to
consummate the marriage and for
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