Chapter Three
“I am going to marry her,” Sebastian said firmly. “Did you see the way she looked at me? She wants me.”
Mathias was in the midst of shoeing a massive charger with a nasty temper. He was trying to concentrate as his brother, propped on the edge of a table, chewed loudly of his nooning meal, a large bird leg. Food flew about as Sebastian chomped and spoke.
“Could you see how attracted she was to me?” he asked enthusiastically. “Mark my words, I have found my future wife.”
Mathias avoided a thrown horse-head. “You never came even remotely close to her,” he said. “How can you know anything about her?”
Sebastian tore at the bird. “It was the way she looked at me.”
“Is that so?”
“It ’tis. It was the look of love.”
“How would you know? You have never seen such a look.”
Sebastian snorted, pieces of food falling from his lips. “I have indeed, my fine lad,” he informed him. “Every time I step foot in The Buck’s Head down the street, those women give me the look. They want me.”
He was deeply self-assured and Mathias couldn’t resist taking a swipe at his arrogance. “They will give anyone the look that they think will pay for the privilege,” he said.
Sebastian shrugged, unwilling to admit that only whores were throwing him expressions of passion. “Sometimes I do not have to pay them.”
Mathias fought off a grin at his brother’s damaged ego. Letting go of the horse’s hoof, he went back over to the fire and pumped it hard as the flames sparked and roared.
“I would guess that Lady Cathlina does not even know you are alive,” he said as he removed the red-hot shoe. “Besides, she is a de Lara. I told you that.”
Sebastian was back to snorting as his brother transferred the shoe to an anvil and began to hammer. “What would the great Earl of Carlisle say if one of his lovely relatives ended up married to me?” he wondered. “It would make us family.”
Mathias put the shoe into a barrel of rainwater, watching the steam hiss up into the air. “I am sure that would not excite him half as much as it would excite you,” he said, eyeing his brother. “De Lara would not want us in the family.”
“Why not?” Sebastian demanded. “You served with him and St. Héver and Pembury. You were all as thick as thieves.”
“I was Tate’s squire when he was a young knight,” Mathias muttered. “I am not sure that makes us blood brothers.”
“He loved you and you know it,” Sebastian pointed out. “Besides, there is only a few years difference between you two.”
“Seven years.”
“He still knighted you at nineteen,” Sebastian pointed out. “Two full years before most knights receive their spurs.”
“That is because there was a war going on. He needed my sword.”
“And I would wager he has missed it long enough this year past,” Sebastian said. Then he looked thoughtful. “In fact, I do believe you even saved his life once. He owes you everything.”
“Sparing his life and saving it are two different things,” Mathias said quietly.
He didn’t want to talk about that particular incident.
In fact, he didn’t want to discuss that part of his life at all.
Politics had separated him from his friends.
A king had stripped him of all that he was.
Nay, he didn’t want to talk about it in the least and Sebastian knew it, but Sebastian had jelly for brains sometimes.
But Sebastian didn’t have so much jelly for brains that he didn’t know he had broached a sore subject with his brother. Mathias kept himself so bottled up, however, that sometimes Sebastian wondered if the man cared about anything at all. But he knew, deep down, that he cared a great deal.
“He would be honored to have a de Reyne in the family,” he said confidently. “De Lara views you as an equal, Mat. You know he does. Ken and Stephen view you as a brother. Mayhap it is time to speak of such things again. Mayhap… mayhap it is even time to contact them again.”
Mathias kept his mouth shut as he removed the shoe from the water and moved to the horse.
Bending over, he pulled the horse’s hoof between his legs and fitted the shoe.
The horse tried to move around a bit and tried to kick at him but Sebastian set his food down and went to help his brother.
He held the horse firm as Mathias hammered on the shoe.
Dropping the hoof to the ground, he wiped the sweat off his brow and moved back to the fire where the remaining shoe was being heated.
“Mat?” Sebastian said quietly. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you.”
“What say you?
Mathias pulled the shoe out of the fire, his face red from the heat and exertion of wrestling with the horse. “What would you have me say?”
“Tell me your thoughts,” Sebastian pushed. He could see that he wasn’t getting anywhere with his brother so he ventured onward in an attempt to prompt him. “I heard something the other day that might be of interest.”
Mathias was only half-listening to him. “What is that?”
Sebastian reclaimed his food and chewed on the last of the meat.
“Henry de Beaumont is trying to put Edward Balliol on the throne of Scotland instead of the infant David,” he said.
“I heard some men speaking of it the other day. De Beaumont will need knights, Mat. Mayhap this will be an opportunity for us.”
Mathias looked at his brother. “De Beaumont is allied with our king,” he said frankly. “If we take up arms for de Beaumont, do you not think that Edward will catch wind of that? Nay, brother, I will not lose my head for a Scots rebellion.”
Sebastian knew that would be his brother’s response but he wasn’t pleased with it. He tossed aside the stripped bird bone and stood up, his manner growing agitated as it so often did.
“I do not want to be a smithy the rest of my life,” he hissed. “Mayhap you find comfort in swinging a hammer instead of a sword, but I do not. I will be a knight again someday, I swear it, and if it is without your support, then so be it.”
Mathias wiped the sweat off his brow. “Patience was never one of your virtues.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that times change. Tides and the flow of power change. You must be patient, little brother. We will not be like this forever, but for now, it is what we must do to survive.”
Sebastian wasn’t satisfied with that. He was about to fire off a volley of insults at his brother’s lack of courage when a soft voice interrupted him.
“Excuse me?”
It was a gentle female voice. Startled, Mathias and Sebastian turned to see Cathlina standing at the entrance to their stall.
Lit from behind by the nooning sun, her silhouette gave off an ethereal glow as she stood at the threshold.
Wrapped in a yellow linen cloak, her dark hair was braided and draped over her right shoulder and her dark eyes glimmered as she fixed on Mathias.
“I am so sorry to interrupt,” she said politely. “Do you remember me? You saved my sister and me yesterday from a brute, right out there on the avenue. I do hope you….”
Mathias cut her off, gently done. “Of course I remember you,” he said, realizing in a rush that he was both surprised and glad to see her again. “Are you and your sister well?”
Cathlina smiled warmly at him, thrilled that he remembered her. “We are very well, thanks to you,” she said. Then her gaze passed between Mathias and his brother. “I did not mean to intrude. I will only beg a moment of your time and then I promise I shall be gone.”
Sebastian was the first one to move towards her, his enormous red-headed presence overwhelming. “Lady Cathlina,” he said, a smile on his lips. “’Tis a welcome interruption, you are.”
Cathlina looked at the big, ruddy-faced brother and couldn’t help but be a bit put-off by him. He was smelling and sweaty and large. She instinctively took a step back as he came close.
“Thank you,” she said, eyeing him. “How do you know my name?”
Sebastian pointed to Mathias. “My brother told me,” he said. “I am glad to hear that you and your sister are faring well after yesterday’s fracas.”
Cathlina nodded. “Well indeed,” she replied. “Thank you again for coming to our aid. In fact, that is why I have come. I have brought you something in the hopes of emphasizing our gratitude.”
She lifted the basket in her hands and both men looked at it as if only just noticing it.
Both of them had been looking at her face, mesmerized by the unexpected appearance of such beauty.
Sebastian looked at the basket with interest but Mathias was on the move.
He didn’t want his brother frightening her, or worse. The man could offend easily.
“Your thanks yesterday was quite enough,” he said, his deep voice soft. “You did not need to bring us anything.”
“I realize that, but I wanted to,” she said, once again completely focused on Mathias as if Sebastian did not exist at all.
She couldn’t seem to do much more than stare at him.
“You would not take a reward and you would not sup with us, so I took it upon myself to bring you a few tokens of my appreciation. I hope you will accept them.”
Mathias was genuinely touched. More than that, he was coming to realize that every time he saw the woman, she seemed to grow increasingly more beautiful.
He was still apprehensive about her being a de Lara but truth be told, every second that he gazed at her saw that resistance taking a beating.
Looking at her hopeful face, he knew he could not refuse her.
“Of course we will accept whatever you have brought,” he said, his eyes glimmering at her. “You did not have to go to the trouble.”