Chapter One #2
Satisfied with the answer, Mathias looked around. “Is there someone here for you?” he asked. “Surely you are not alone.”
The young woman shook her head. “My father and older sister are in town,” she replied.
“They are on errands for my mother. My youngest sister and I were sitting in our wagon – that is our wagon over there – when that man suddenly grabbed my baby sister and tried to run away. My lord, I can never thank you enough for coming to our aid. No one else seemed to be willing to help but you and… dear God, I cannot possibly thank you enough.”
Mathias was fairly swept up in her sweet voice and doe-like eyes. He found himself clearing his throat nervously.
“I am glad I could be of assistance, my lady,” he said.
The young woman peered around him to get a look at the big red-haired man as he jumped up and down on the brute. “What will you do to him?”
Mathias turned in time to see his brother roll his burly quarry over onto his back and leap on his stomach. “I am not sure,” he said casually. “I will leave the punishment to my brother because he seems to enjoy it so much.”
There was a touch of humor in what could have been a deadly serious statement.
It helped alleviate some of the abject terror the women were still feeling.
In fact, the tension seemed to have lifted a great deal now that the young girl was safe and the culprit being taken away.
There was no longer any reason for him to remain.
With a polite nod, Mathias turned away because he was unsure what more to say to her and furthermore found himself just the slightest bit giddy. In fact, he was fairly unbalanced but a word from her stopped him.
“My lord,” she called. “I do not even know your name.”
Mathias came to a halt, turning to face her. He thought perhaps she was more beautiful at second glance.
“Mathias,” he said after a moment.
The young woman smiled and Mathias heard himself sigh with satisfaction. Even her teeth were beautiful. In fact, everything about her was beautiful and he was quickly succumbing to her very presence. With a mere glance or soft words, she was a siren luring him to his doom.
“Mathias,” she repeated softly. “I am the Lady Cathlina de Lara and this is my sister, the Lady Abechail.”
Mathias felt as if he had been struck, lifting the delirium of giddy fog he had been feeling.
De Lara, he thought. He knew that name all too well.
He tried not to linger on the name, that powerful and consequential name, as his attention shifted to the slender girl in Cathlina’s arms, plastered up against her sister.
The child was dark-haired, pale, and very frail looking. When she saw that Mathias was looking at her, she buried her face in her sister’s torso.
“Greetings, my lady,” Mathias said to Abechail, somewhat gently. She looked as if a louder tone would cause her to shatter. “I sincerely pray you were not injured in the struggle.”
Abechail was pressed as close to her sister as she could go. When Mathias spoke to her, she closed her eyes tightly and tried to block him out but her sister shook her gently.
“Abbie?” she said softly. “Will you thank this man for helping you?”
Abechail turned slightly, peeping an eye open from the safe haven of her sister’s embrace. Instead of her sister’s doe-eyed gaze, she had blue eyes that were red-rimmed and frightened. She had tears all over her face and remnants of dried vomit on her neck.
“My… my thanks,” she stammered.
Mathias cracked a smile. “It was my pleasure, my lady.”
Abechail’s gaze lingered on him a moment before smiling timidly.
She still looked horribly pale and terrified, however, and it occurred to Mathias that until the brute was properly restrained or imprisoned, the poor young girl might never feel safe.
In fact, neither lady would feel completely safe. He turned to his brother.
“Sebastian,” he said. “Take that animal over to our stall. There are some old stocks back behind it. Put him there.”
Sebastian’s ruddy face lit up. “The old binders?” he repeated gleefully. “One of them is broken, I think. I believe that is why they no longer use it.”
“Then chain him to it,” Mathias said. “That fool will not be free to roam as long as these ladies are in town. See to it.”
With a smile on his face, Sebastian picked the muddy, lice-ridden brute up by the neck and dragged the man across the avenue towards the smithy shop down the way.
People were dodging to get out of his way as he hauled the man behind him, singing a song very loudly about bearded women and knights with no libido.
It was a song better suited for a tavern but Sebastian didn’t care.
He was happier than he had been in a long while, beating up on someone.
Mathias watched him go, fighting off a grin when he saw his father stick his head out of their smithy stall at the sound of Sebastian’s voice.
The shock registering on the man’s face was priceless.
Justus was, physically, the toughest man in England but he had a habit of showing his thoughts plainly on his face.
That could make him rather vulnerable, but it also made him very humorous.
Mathias had to turn away before his father saw him grinning.
His expression was straight by the time he turned back to the women.
“He will no longer be a threat, I promise,” he said, his gaze moving over Cathlina’s features but trying not to be obvious about it. “Mayhap I should wait with you until your father returns to ensure your safety.”
Cathlina shook her head. “I am sure that will not be necessary, my lord. You have already done so much for us. I do not wish to keep you from your duties.”
Mathias essentially ignored her. He gestured in the direction of the wagon, a few dozen feet away. “Allow me to escort you to your wagon.”
Cathlina eyed the man who was not only their savior but now determined to play their escort.
He was enormously built and several inches over six feet with shaggy dark hair that had a bit of curl to it.
His features were even, very handsome, and his square jaw was set with determination.
But it was his eyes, rather large orbs of dark green that conveyed…
something. She wasn’t quite sure what she saw within the guarded green sea, but there was something there lingering just below the surface.
She sensed great mystery in the searingly masculine depths.
“You are too kind, my lord,” she said, pulling her clinging sister with her. “We owe you a great deal of thanks for the regard you have shown us.”
Mathias herded the pair across the busy avenue, stopping short of touching her in any way, as a polite escort would have.
A proper attendant would have taken the lady’s elbow to show both protectiveness and guidance, but given the circumstances of their meeting, Mathias didn’t think they would have taken any manner of physical contact too kindly.
Therefore, he basically shepherded them to the wagon and watched Cathlina, who was hardly larger than a child herself, lift her sister up into the wagon bed.
Abechail crawled up underneath the bench seat and rolled up in a dusty oil cloth that was there. It was evident that she wanted to hide away from what had just happened. Cathlina watched her sister as the girl pulled the blanket over her head. She shook her head sadly.
“She was so excited to come to town,” she said with quiet sorrow. “More excited than the rest of us. After this happening, she will never want to leave home again.”
Mathias folded his big arms across his chest, his gaze moving from the swaddle-bound child on the wagon to the exquisite creature standing next to him.
He wasn’t one for idle chatter. In fact, he kept to himself most of the time.
He was rather quiet and introspective. But something about that lovely face made him want to engage in conversation.
He hadn’t done that with a woman in years.
“Did you come far?” he asked politely.
Cathlina shook her head. “Not really,” she replied as she looked up at him. “We live at Kirklinton Castle. Have you heard of it?”
Mathias nodded. “It is a well-regarded fortress,” he replied. “It is to the north if I recall correctly.”
Cathlina nodded. “It is,” she confirmed.
“It belongs to the Earl of Carlisle. My father, who is the earl’s cousin on his father’s side, was appointed the garrison commander last year.
Before that, we lived in a small tower near the Roman wall further north.
In fact, our home was a Roman castle hundreds of years ago and before I was born, my mother was told about a local legend that bespoke of a Roman commander and his Saxon love, the Lady Cathlina Lavinia.
My mother named me for the Saxon lady of legend.
She thought it would bring me good fortune. ”
So… she is de Lara’s cousin, he thought.
He was wondering how, precisely, she was related to the great Tate de Lara and now he knew.
It was a sad thought, indeed, but something he wouldn’t waste the energy to dwell on.
He’d never had a real romantic interest in his life and realized he wasn’t in danger of having one now, not with the knowledge that she was a de Lara.
It was too bad, too, but he pushed the disappointment aside to focus on her sweet voice, husky and honeyed. That was a much more pleasant thought.
“Has your name brought you good fortune, then?” he asked.
“Up until today it has.”
It was a cute turn of humor and they shared a small chuckle.
Mathias thought he might actually be blushing but he wasn’t about to touch his face to see if it was warm.
He could only pray it wasn’t. He’d never in his life met a lady that so easily extracted emotion from him in so short amount of time.
He labored to keep his control and not look like a giddy fool in front of her.