Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I’ve never been inside a castle,” Winnie said as she and Matthew walked toward their next destination, Skipton.
They’d parked their car in the lot nearby and now stood in front of the gatehouse—two large, circular towers holding up a portcullis at the back.
“Really?” Matthew asked. “Never?”
“The closest things I’ve seen in Utah are granaries, so I guess you could count those.”
He chuckled at her joke.
They neared the large precipice of the castle, and Winnie stared up at the brown and black stones, marveling at the alternating raised spaces of the towers, the coat of arms, and eventually the writing at the top.
DES OR MAIS
“‘Henceforth,’” Matthew said, motioning to the writing. “It’s the Clifford family motto. Lady Anne had it created as a defiant slight against Oliver Cromwell, who wanted the castle destroyed.”
Winnie smiled. “I like the sound of this Lady Anne.”
“You would ,” Matthew said with a roll of his eyes, then he motioned her forward. “Come on. There’s much more to see than the gatehouse.”
He was right. Winnie couldn’t believe the sight before her as they passed beneath the portcullis and were greeted by the sight of a full-blown, real-life castle.
Stretching across the length of a pristinely cared for lawn, the castle boasted multiple drum towers, light brown stone, and a Union Jack that waved proudly at the foremost tower. Small windows speckled a few of the towers, and a broad staircase led up to the front entrance.
The medieval fortress—according to Matthew—had been preserved for over nine hundred years and was open for guests to explore every room, aside from those off to the side, where a family privately resided.
“It’s incredible,” she breathed.
“It really is,” he agreed. “I’ve been here countless times, and it still doesn’t get old.”
They moved forward, the noise from the town outside being cut off as the grounds of the castle echoed that same peaceful silence from Malham.
The area wasn’t full in the middle of the day, but those who were there still spoke in hushed tones. Was that just the English way? She couldn’t deny that it was a refreshing change to what she was used to.
“You mentioned Utah before,” Matthew said in his own lowered tone as they climbed the castle steps. “That’s where you’re originally from?”
Winnie nodded. “Yep. Born and raised. I graduated college there, then moved all over until I found consultant work in New York.”
“There weren’t consulting opportunities closer to home?” he asked next.
Oh, there were opportunities. Plenty of them. Especially being near Dad with all the many connections he had as a lawyer. But she’d chosen New York for a reason—and that was to get some space between her and her family.
Of course that had never stopped her dad from still giving her his contacts left and right.
“New York just called my name I guess,” she replied.
“Does your whole family still live in Utah?”
“My parents do. But my siblings are scattered everywhere now. Oregon, Germany, Florida, California.”
They reached the top of the steps and turned to face another set. Winnie had to admit, she was kind of over stairs after Malham, but if these led to another view like the cove had, then she wouldn’t complain at the top.
“Do you ever get to see them?” Matthew asked.
Why the sudden interest in her family? Or was he simply making polite conversation? “We get together once in person every year, but other than that, we just see each other during video chats.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “As you well know.”
He smiled, though he had the decency to look slightly sheepish. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”
“No, you aren’t,” she said with a small laugh. “You were eating the whole thing up.”
He shrugged. “Well, any man would when he hears a beautiful woman finds him attractive.”
Winnie looked at him, her lips parting at his words.
Beautiful. He’d called her beautiful.
Obviously, he wasn’t aware of the effect he’d had on her, as he motioned straight ahead and pulled her attention elsewhere. “You’ll like this.”
Winnie followed his gaze, still reeling before catching sight of the enormous tree in the center of the open-roof courtyard. “It’s a tree,” she stated, “just…growing right there.”
He laughed at her stating the obvious. “That’s a yew tree, planted in the sixteen hundreds, reputedly by the very Lady Anne who erected the sign in the front. ”
“Yeah, I really like her,” Winnie said, propping her hands on her hips and nodding her head as she admired the towering tree above them. Its trunk twisted toward the sky like a giant licorice.
The inside of the courtyard boasted of far more windows than the outside of the castle had, countless, skinny frames lining the walls to the doors that led to even more rooms.
They stepped across the stone flooring, moving to the stairs at the left as Matthew continued to share his wealth of knowledge about the enormous fireplaces tall enough for children to stand in—“It’s been said that the fires were so hot, the chefs used to cook without clothes on”—to the toilets on the top floor that sent their waste down, down, down, where “individuals used moss to clean themselves up afterward.”
Winnie listened to everything, even when she was squirming in the darkness of the dungeons, completely enraptured by the history Matthew shared with her.
“Now I know why we’ve come here,” she said, moving to yet another room, this one labeled Lord’s bedchamber .
“Why is that?” Matthew asked.
“So you can teach me all about the medieval era and make me fall in love with history, too. Then I’ll want the festival to be as authentic as you do.”
His gleeful smile made her laugh. “Is it working?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she lied.
It was totally working.
They passed by a few more rooms as Matthew continued his questioning of her family. “So, I assume your siblings left Utah for work, like you did?”
Honestly, he was probably just curious, and his questions were harmless. But Winnie always felt crummy after touting her siblings’ experiences. She always looked so dowdy afterwards.
“Yeah, Scott is an anesthesiologist, Samantha is an architect, Spencer is a pilot, and Sarah is a software engineer. They all found more money everywhere else but Utah. ”
The driving factor for most people. And yet, did it ever make them happy? Had it made her happy?
Matthew moved to stare out one of the windows nearby, the courtyard tree’s vibrant green leaves visible at eye-level from the warped glass. “They all have S names? Was that a coincidence?”
“Um, no.” She moved to look at the tree, too, watching as a young girl pranced around the stone barrier at the base of it.
“Is Winnie a middle name, then?” he pressed.
“Nope,” she said. “I was the accident of the family as the youngest. They said they chose Winifred because it means peace and joy, but I called their bluff a few years ago and found out they just couldn’t think of any other S names they liked.”
Yet another reason she was on the outside looking in with her family. Her mood shifted, as it always did when she spoke of them. “They told me with five kids, and with me as the youngest, they wanted me to stand out in all the best ways. Fat bit of good that did me.”
Matthew couldn’t stop staring at Winnie.
Dad had been right. He’d been right about everything. Mr. Knox’s pressure, her siblings’ successes, her own insecurities being hidden by the pride she was forced to exhibit. But now, listening to her speak of her family and their jobs, he could see clear as day the self-doubt in her gray eyes.
How it pulled at his heart.
“Ready to go to the next room?” she asked, her smile clearly forced.
She moved on before he had the chance to respond.
He felt bad for asking so many questions about her family when her spirits were clearly lowered, but he’d wanted to hear the truth from her own lips. Now that he had, he longed for the Winnie from before. The Winnie who’d made fun of his car and the Winnie who’d marveled at the sights.
Honestly, their trip so far had exceeded any expectations he’d had, especially in regard to Winnie’s response to things. She’d been impressed with his home, with Yorkshire and England, and he couldn’t begin to explain how happy that had made him.
Now he needed to bring her happiness back.
They continued moving from room to room, and Matthew shared more of the history with her, relieved when she finally shifted from unhappiness to intrigue once again.
“So, did visiting here inspire your love of the medieval era?” she asked, peering through one of the many turrets they passed by.
She leaned forward, and Matthew had to pull his gaze away from her jeans once again. Even those terrible wellies she still wore didn’t distract him from how good she looked today.
“Matthew?”
He blinked, staring at her as she turned around with a quizzical look. “Hmm? Oh, yes. There were other things, of course, but visiting here definitely helped nurture my love of history.”
It was strange to be speaking with her like this, as if they were actually friends. Shocking what being nice to a person could do to another.
“So you’re obsessed with all of history, not just the medieval era?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, all of it. I know, it makes me even more boring, but that’s the truth of it.”
He was used to women finding him boring, his love of history apparently repulsive. He’d never had droves of girls chasing after him like Cedric for being a striker or Graham for being a piper, or even Finn for being in a small Irish band. Women just didn’t take an interest in what Matthew had to say, it was as plain and simple as that.
And yet, the notion of Winnie feeling the same was disappointing .
“I don’t think it makes you boring,” she said as if hearing his thoughts. She looked through the next turret. “I think it’s refreshing. You know what your passion is and you’re not afraid to pursue it. It’s admirable.”
Matthew didn’t know what to say. Did she really feel that way?
“So when did you first know you wanted to start jousting?” she asked next.
Was she asking her own questions to avoid answering his? Even if she was, he owed her a break.
“Well,” he began, “it always fascinated me when I was younger, but that grew when my dad hired the Birdwhistles to work in the stables when I was…fifteen, I think it was? Hubert had been a knight for quite a while before that and had participated in other tournaments. Once I found out, I’d return home from Eton for summer holidays, and he’d show me how to joust, training me up little by little.”
He paused, wondering if he was speaking too much, his voice echoing around the small room they stood within. But Winnie leaned back against one of the stone walls and listened to him with focused eyes.
It had been a long time since he’d had someone even pretend to show interest in his love of history and the joust. Dare he keep going?
“I proved good enough in the sport to participate in a few events alongside Hubert,” he continued. “We had a great time jousting together and against each other.”
His mind strayed for a moment to those early days of jousting. The feel of the solid lance in his grasp, the focus required to succeed, the satisfaction of the cracking and splintering of wood when he struck his opponent directly on target.
“It was and has always been rewarding,” he said. “But my favorite part is the feeling that comes when I dress in the armor and ride down the list. I’m just entirely and completely immersed in history, as if I was actually a knight chosen to fight for king and country.”
He stopped again, wondering if he should be embarrassed by the things he was sharing, but Winnie still listened, her eyes even more intent than before.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I wasn’t able to do as much once I started uni. I dreamt of becoming a history professor next, graduated with my degree, and shortly after, I received a job offer at a university where I got to teach for a few months, but life obviously had other plans for me.”
“What plans?” she prompted.
“My dad being diagnosed with MS.”
Winnie’s brow furrowed at once. Matthew could understand why. Dad’s diagnosis had been a traumatic thing for the Wintour family as a whole, but together, they’d managed to grow stronger because of it.
“He needed a lot of help in the beginning,” Matthew continued, “so I moved back home to help with the estate and his recovery.”
“That must have been so hard for you to give up your dream,” she said.
But Matthew shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult, just more sad than anything. I’d worked a long time to realize that dream, but in the end, I found another one. I created the medieval festival, brought Hubert on as one of the knights, and eventually built up the event from the ground up.” He looked away. “Until I ran it back down into the ground.”
To his surprise, she laughed. “You think that’s funny, do you?” he asked, unable to hide his own smile.
“Sorry,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “It’s not funny, just the way you said it. In reality, you didn’t run it into the ground, or it would be completely dead. All it needs is a little…resuscitation.”
Matthew stared at her, still marveling at the change that had come over the two of them. “I think that is the nicest thing you’ve said to me about my festival, Miss Knox.”
He hoped she didn’t mind his little nickname for her. He’d used it first to annoy her, but now, he found it suited her so well, it was hard to break the habit.
“Well, it was overdue,” she said. “I’m sorry I took so long to say it.”
Their eyes met, another level of understanding passing between them before she looked away, her eyes traveling over the stone walls, flooring, and ceiling.
“I still can’t believe I’m standing inside of a real castle,” she murmured, shaking her head.
Matthew smiled at the way she took everything in, like a child in a candy shop—or like himself in a history museum.
“Do you know what Char and I used to play here as kids?” he asked.
“What?” she asked.
“Hide-and-seek.”
Winnie laughed. “Hide-and-seek? Here? That can’t be allowed.”
“Oh, it absolutely isn’t,” Matthew said, his grin growing. “We played it anyway, though.”
She smiled, just imagining the young Wintour kids hiding in the nooks and crannies of an actual castle. What a childhood that must have been.
“Did you ever get caught?” she asked.
“By our parents, yes, but it didn’t stop us from playing again. We added more rules, so if other people were around, we had to walk when trying to tig each other.”
“Tig?”
“You know, tap them so they’re out.”
She nodded her understanding.
“We had to be deathly quiet,” Matthew continued, “no matter how few or how many people were here. It was always best when the castle was quiet, though. Like today. ”
His eyes took on a faraway look, then he cast a sidelong glance at her.
“What?” she questioned.
“I wonder what it would be like to play now…” he said, then he ended in a loaded silence.