Chapter One #3
The man had no sense of hygiene, cleanliness, or anything along those lines.
If it was natural, he accepted it, no matter what it was.
That came from living with men, and training with men, and in all honesty, women scared him.
He knew nothing about them and he couldn’t control them like he could control men, so anything out of his scope of expertise had him intimidated.
And William knew this.
God help him, he knew. His wife knew. Gar’s mother knew.
The women in the family knew that Gar was wildly handsome and, in truth, quite gentle toward the opposite sex when he wanted to be, but he had no idea that the way he lived or kept himself was offensive.
He was an idiot when it came to sensing a woman’s thoughts or needs.
If they said the sky was blue, he would think they meant it was red because all things were red and brutal and harsh in his world.
The world of a knight living in a border castle that was always on the alert.
Always fighting for its life. Gar wasn’t used to not being in battle mode, every hour of every day, so to relax with his family was difficult for him.
To relax and be pleasant around a woman he had just met was even worse.
Mattie de Reyne had no idea what she would be getting in him.
William wasn’t sure how he was going to break it to Gar.
Clean up, lad. Your betrothed is expecting you.
But Gar had to know.
“Now?” Gar finally said, breaking into William’s train of thought. “De Reyne is bringing that up now?”
“Now.”
Gar frowned. “But why?”
William shrugged. “Because the lady is of an age where she should be married,” he said. “There is nothing unusual about that, Gar.”
No, there wasn’t, but Gar wasn’t ready for it. It was written all over his face. “We have only been betrothed eight or nine years and—”
“Nine. Closer to ten, actually.”
“—and some betrothals go on for many more years,” Gar said, finishing strongly because he didn’t like being interrupted. “Men must become established.”
“You are established.”
William seemed to have an answer for everything, which was driving Gar to desperation. “Poppy, I do not wish to bring a wife to this place,” he said, gesturing to the hall, to Gleann na Fola in general. “This is no place for a woman, especially not now. It is too rough. Too volatile.”
He had a point, but William wasn’t going to let him off so easily. “Mayhap that is true,” he said. “But you said yourself that the battle with the Maxwell is finished. Did you not just tell me that?”
Gar had. He silently cursed himself for giving his grandfather ammunition in this argument, but that didn’t matter.
He didn’t want a woman here.
“I did,” he said. “But you know as well as I do that sometimes, battles do not remain finished. Sometimes they flare up. I cannot be worrying about a new wife when I have to worry about the Scots.”
William nodded thoughtfully. “I thought you might say that,” he said.
“Therefore, I am sending you five hundred more men in addition to another five hundred that are part of your de Reyne dowry. I will also send Atreus de Norville to you. You will be well fortified with men and knights and can, therefore, afford the time to focus on your new wife.”
“I don’t want to focus on my new wife.”
“You have no choice.”
Gar didn’t know what to say. The man had everything figured out. Trying very hard not to have a tantrum, he looked at his father, who had thus far remained silent throughout the exchange.
“Well?” he said to Troy. “Do you have anything to say about this? Do you agree with him?”
Troy grunted and scratched his head. “Lad,” he said after a moment.
“All of the refusals in the world will not change this. When you marry a member of the House of de Reyne, that means we will be linked to the Lords of Hensingham by marriage and then by blood when you have children. That is an extremely valuable alliance and I, for one, see the strength in it. It is a noble calling.”
Gar could see that he’d get no support from his father. “And you agree that I should bring her back here, to this dangerous outpost?”
Troy sighed. “She will be your wife and she will go where you go,” he said.
“Women have survived at dangerous castles before. And before you say another word, know this—your mother told me to tell you that if you voice any further objections, then she will come here and you will be very, very sorry. Are you willing to risk the wrath of your mother?”
Gar wasn’t. There were a lot of things he could deal with and do so ably, but an angry mother wasn’t one of them.
Rhoswyn Kerr de Reyne had been the only child of Red Keith Kerr and he had raised his daughter like a warrior.
As his grandfather once told him, Rhoswyn and Troy got into a battle years ago and Rhoswyn defeated him, which led to a marriage.
Rhoswyn was as tough as nails, so under no circumstances did Gar want to tangle with her.
Heavily, he sighed.
“Truly, Papa?” he said with displeasure in his tone. “I must truly marry this girl?”
“You must.”
“But I do not even remember her,” he said, trying not to sound as if he were whining about it. “She was a little girl I was kind too those years ago and nothing more.”
“You made enough of an impression on her that her father asked for a betrothal.”
Gar rolled his eyes. “So my reward for saving a… a child is that I have the privilege of being married to her?” he said. “That is ridiculous. It was ridiculous from the start, but you saw an alliance in it, so I have been forced to accept it.”
Troy cocked an eyebrow. “I was forced into a marriage with your mother for the sake of an alliance and I am a better man for it,” he pointed out.
“Poppy and Matha have the most chaotic romance of all because long ago, she belonged to Poppy’s liege.
At least you do not love a woman who belongs to someone else. ”
“I do not love anyone.”
“Enough, Gar,” William said softly, stopping the argument.
“The subject is not up for discussion. You are going to travel to Hensingham Castle, where Lady Matilda de Reyne is waiting for you. You will spend some time there, coming to know the woman you are to marry, and then you shall wed. That is what her father wanted.”
Even Troy looked at his father curiously. “They do not want a wedding right away?”
William shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “His missive said that he wishes for his daughter to come to know her betrothed before the marriage is to take place. To be fair, I have heard of something like this before, but usually when the brides are quite young. Lady Matilda has recently seen her nineteenth birthday, so she is not a child. She is a grown woman.”
Troy shook his head. “I think that is a very bad idea.”
“Why?”
Troy grunted, exasperated. “Although a period of acquaintance can be beneficial if the couple comes to like one another, it can also be a terrible thing if they cannot stand the sight of each other, knowing they still must wed.”
William glanced at Gar. “And you afraid that will happen?”
Troy looked at his son, who was sitting moodily in his seat, clearly pondering how he could get himself out of this predicament. “If they do not get along and the lady wants out, and Gar agrees, the betrothal can be broken,” he said. “I do not think you want to see that happen.”
“So you feel a swift marriage is for the best?”
“I do.”
Gar abruptly stood up. “You two decide what you want,” he said. “I have an army to see to. I haven’t slept in three days and I’ve hardly eaten, so do what you must and let me know what you decide since I do not have any choice in this matter.”
He stomped off, heading back across the hall to the spiral stairs that would take him back down to the ward. He was battered and bloodied and irritable, so neither Troy or William blamed him. It had been a brutal campaign and he’d come home to something he’d been avoiding, and ignoring, for years.
“If I were you, I would send Rhoswyn here to ensure this place is cleaned up to the point where a woman could actually live here and not die of a disease,” William said quietly.
“Gar is not a cultured man or one who cares about appearance. I fear Lady Matilda’s reaction when he brings her back here. ”
Troy couldn’t disagree with him. “So we pretend Gar isn’t as slovenly as he is?” he said. “I do not think that is fair to the lady.”
“It is more than fair,” William said. “The lady does not need to face such barbaric conditions when Gar brings her home. We do not want to frighten her.”
Troy sighed heavily. “Once Gar leaves for Hensingham, I suppose I could send my wife over here, but she’s not the best of chatelaines. You know this, Papa.”
William’s mouth twitched with a smile. “She’s hell in battle, however,” he said. “She is a worthy woman.”
Troy looked at his father and, seeing the smirk, broke out into a grin. They both knew that Rhoswyn had not grown up being taught usual womanly duties, including how to tend a keep, and it had been Troy who had been forced to take on that role for some time after they were married.
He wasn’t about to do it again.
“Mayhap there is someone else who can help other than Rhos,” Troy said. “Andreas’ wife is closer by proximity, anyway. She has managed to keep The Hermitage quite habitable.”
“True.”
The servants chose that moment to appear with the food Gar had requested.
He wasn’t there to eat it, but that didn’t mean that Troy and William didn’t make a feast out of it.
Even if Gar lived in a pigsty, the man always had excellent food and drink.
Troy and William took advantage of that because they were quite certain this wasn’t the last battle they were going to have with Gar about his betrothal.
They had to keep up their strength.
They were going to need it.