Chapter Two
Three weeks later
Hensingham Castle, Cumbrian Coast
“His party is nearly here!”
Mattie heard those fateful words, uttered by her cousin, and family’s ward, a young woman by the name of Agnes de Witt.
She was the only ward at this time because Lady Hensingham, Mattie’s mother, had made the decision that she simply didn’t want to deal with a gaggle of young girls at this time in her life.
She didn’t have the patience any longer.
But the truth was that Agnes was enough to make anyone want to forgo the company of multiple young women because she was loud, opinionated, excitable, sweet, and silly.
She was a handful at the best of times and she’d whipped Mattie into a frenzy for the past several days because they knew Gar de Wolfe was on the approach.
Now, he was here.
Mattie thought she was going to faint.
“They are?” she gasped, running for the lancet window of her bower and straining to see the road that led to the gatehouse of Hensingham. “Where? I do not see them.”
At Mattie’s feet, her dog, Winchester, jumped excitedly. Winnie, as he was called, was a long-legged dog with a big head, quite smart. He’d latched on to Mattie as a puppy a few years ago and never left her side. She gave the dog a pat on the head as Agnes pointed from the window.
“They will appear soon,” Agnes said confidently. Then, she yanked Mattie away from the window and forced her to stand before her. “Let me look at you. We must make sure you are as beautiful as you can possibly be.”
Mattie prepared for inspection for the third time that day.
With a grin, she sighed impatiently as Agnes scrutinized her and Winchester ran circles around them both, sensing the excitement in the air.
She was forced to turn a circle in front of Agnes, who found a spot on the yellow silk surcoat that looked as if it might be trying to unravel.
Agnes inspected the jewelry, her hands, and her hair, which had a circlet of gold around the crown with a semiprecious stone hanging from the front so that it draped over her forehead.
In a word, she looked stunning.
She smelled good, too. Agnes had made sure to rub her arms and neck with perfumed oil, smelling of roses.
It was a heady scent. Not one part of Mattie wasn’t polished, primped, or presentable.
She’d been working on her clothing for weeks, preparing for the moment when she would meet the man she was betrothed to.
The boy she’d met only once, but a boy who had made a lasting impression.
Mattie had been waiting for nine long years and now that the moment was upon her, she could hardly contain herself.
It was what she’d been praying for.
“Tell me about him again,” Agnes said, using a horsehair brush to sweep away what she perceived to be dirt on the hem of Mattie’s surcoat. “Tell me how handsome and brave he is.”
Mattie smiled as she remembered the young man in her mind, somehow creating an almost godlike vision of him.
“Very handsome and very brave,” she said.
“Papa tells me of Gar’s adventures when he hears of them.
I know that he is a garrison commander on the Scottish border and that he commands a thousand men. Imagine that! A thousand-man army!”
“A thousand men,” Agnes sighed. “He must be very powerful.”
“He is,” Mattie said. “He is a de Wolfe, after all. His father is the second son of William de Wolfe, the great Wolfe of the Border. Of course you know who that is. You have heard of the Earl of Warenton.”
“I have.” Agnes nodded. “Is Gar his father’s eldest son?”
“Nay,” Mattie said. “He has an older brother, from his father’s first wife. She was killed and his father married a Scotswoman, and Gar is the firstborn of that marriage.”
Agnes flopped onto Mattie’s bed, her elbows bent up and her chin in her hands, as Winchester jumped on the bed and lay next to her. “Is he rich, then?” she asked.
Mattie shrugged. “I do not know,” she said. “I think so. Everyone knows that the House of de Wolfe is the largest and richest in the north. Papa told me that Gar will inherit wealth from his mother’s father because she is his heiress.”
Agnes pondered a rich husband with de Wolfe ties.
“Think of the home you will have,” she said.
“Think of the magnificent castle you will be chatelaine over. It will be the biggest, most beautiful castle in all of England and you must have many feasts. You must show them what a great wife Gar de Wolfe has.”
Mattie found her way over to the polished bronze mirror that had a surprisingly true reflection.
It was about as tall as she was, five feet in length or so, and she admired the beautiful garment she was wearing.
The neckline was a little daring and it nipped in at her waist, accentuating her figure.
The sleeves were long and belled, giving her an elegant appearance.
But the more she looked at herself, the more the doubts began to come.
“I hope I will be a great wife,” she said wistfully. “I do so want to be a good wife to Gar. I want to be helpful and obedient. I want to learn of the things that are important to him.”
“What about the things that are important to you?” Agnes asked.
Mattie considered that question. “I’m sure that what is important to me will be important to him, also,” she said.
“I am certain we are of the same mind. We both want a fine home, and children, and the respect of our vassals. Aggie, I have spent the past nine years dreaming of this marriage and I feel as if I already know it. I feel as if I am already in it and I am Gar’s and he is mine. We will be perfect.”
Agnes smiled dreamily. “Of course you will,” she said. “You have planned and prepared for it. You are ready to become Lady de Wolfe.”
“I am,” Mattie said, grinning. “I am ready and willing. But he must hurry up and arrive!”
Agnes scrambled off the bed and ran to the window as Winchester leaped off the bed after her. “Shall I run down the road and take a stick to his horse to make him move faster?”
Mattie giggled as she went to the window, pushing her eager dog aside. “Aye,” she insisted. “Gar will be the most handsome knight of the entire escort. You will know him by his dark hair and green eyes. I remember those eyes. They were magnificent.”
“Gar was magnificent.”
“He was,” Mattie said. “I can hardly…”
A knock on the door startled them away from the window and when the panel swung open, Mattie’s mother was standing in the opening. Julia de Reyne took one look at her daughter and motioned to her furiously.
“Quickly, Matilda,” she said. “He is approaching the gatehouse!”
Mattie bolted, but Agnes had made the unfortunate mistake of standing in her path as she tried to run to the door too.
“Get out of the way!” she roared at Agnes. “Move!”
She shoved, Agnes went sideways, and Mattie beat a mad pace to the open door where her mother was. She blew past her mother, stepping on the woman’s toe, and Julia growled at her smarting foot.
“Slowly, Matilda!” she called after her daughter. “Careful down those stairs. They are treacherous!”
Agnes, having recovered from being pushed aside, finally made it through the door, following Mattie’s trail.
The dog was right behind her, barking excitedly.
Unfortunately for Mattie, she was going a little too slowly because of her mother’s admonition and Agnes was going too fast to keep her balance, so she slipped on the steep spiral stairs and crashed into Mattie from behind, and the two of them went sliding down the rest of the stairs until they hit the bottom.
Winchester, thinking it was all great fun, jumped on them and barked.
By the time Julia reached them, Mattie was slapping Agnes on the arms, scolding her for having crashed into her, and pushing her jubilant dog away.
Snorting at the ridiculous young women and one excited dog, Julia pulled her daughter to her feet and encouraged her to continue to the keep entry, leaving Agnes to collect her dignity.
Winchester remained with Lady Hensingham, sadly, as his mistress ran outside.
For certainly, the entire world awaited Gar de Wolfe, who was a cross between God and Adonis in the eyes of Mattie.
He was knightly perfection and she was ready to worship on the altar of his greatness.
As she’d told Agnes, the man was positively perfect.
She hadn’t seen him in nine years, but she didn’t need to. She simply knew.
God’s Bones, but she was wrong.
Very wrong.