Chapter Three
“Are you going to say something to him?”
“Say what?”
“That he must look better than a pig who has been sleeping in his trough?”
The words were hissed between Andreas and Troy, with Andreas asking his father if he was going to do something about his slovenly brother. A brother who was about to meet his intended, but he smelled like a compost heap.
Even the men, who weren’t hugely given to extreme hygiene, found it offensive.
Troy sighed heavily.
“I have,” he muttered. “You have. His mother has. Poppy has. Even Matha has and she went so far as to force him into a tub of water, but he would only take his tunic off because he did not want to undress completely in front of his grandmother. Matha took a brush and soap and scrubbed him so hard that she made him bleed in places, but he got out of the tub and continued to wear those damp breeches until they smelled to high heaven. He’s wearing them even now. That is what you smell—mildew.”
Andreas knew that. He knew all of it. But he still could not believe his brother had no real sense of cleanliness or proper grooming when it came to not only visiting an ally’s home, but meeting the man’s daughter, who happened to be his betrothed.
It was an appalling situation.
“I am going to try one last time,” Andreas said. “Gar may be the most handsome out of all of us, but he is also the filthy boar of the family.”
Troy shook his head. “He does not care.”
Andreas pursed his lips angrily and reined his horse around, heading for the rear of the escort where Gar was located.
He didn’t want to be in the front because he was still protesting the match in general and didn’t want to appear eager by being in the lead as they arrived at Hensingham Castle.
Andreas found his brother in the very rear of the escort, astride his distinctive black-and-white warhorse, aptly named Taches, which was a French word meaning spots.
Taches, which sounded much like the word dash when spoken, was a very intelligent horse who was hell in battle.
Gar adored the beast.
“Hensingham is just over the rise,” Andreas said as he drew near. “I came to tell you that there is a stream to the south. We can stop if you wish to wash your face and clean up a little.”
Gar eyed his brother. It was the same tune he’d been hearing from the man since they’d departed Gleann na Fola weeks ago and, much as when Andreas had mentioned washing the first time, Gar simply ignored him. He’d been doing it the entire journey.
Andreas still hadn’t gotten the message.
“Nay, thank you,” Gar said. “I am definitely smelling the sea. I’d forgotten how much I love that smell. We do not get it where we live.”
He was changing the subject from his stench to the fortress before them, but Andreas wasn’t going to let him. “Speaking of smell,” Andreas said, reining his horse alongside his brother’s. “You stink.”
“That is only your opinion.”
Andreas rolled his eyes. “Christ, Gar,” he said. “It is everyone’s opinion. Our grandparents, our father, your mother, the farmers in the fields and the priests in the churches. Everyone thinks you smell because you do. Lad, you cannot meet your bride like this. The woman will be horrified.”
Gar grunted, refusing to look at his brother. “That is her misfortune,” he said. “I am what I am.”
“That is all you have to say about this?”
“What more would you have me say?”
Andreas cast him a long look. “Gar, I know you are not this stupid,” he said. “Are you deliberately doing this? So she will take one look at you and beg her father to break the betrothal?”
Gar still refused to look at him. “Think what you will.”
“I can and I do,” Andreas said as if a revelation had just occurred to him. “Now this is starting to make sense. You are trying to break the betrothal yourself by presenting a picture of the worst husband a woman could have.”
Gar shrugged. “I am a knight,” he said. “I serve at a border castle. It is the most brutal life imaginable. It is no place for a woman, so if she cannot accept me for who I am, then it would be best that we not marry.”
He meant it, every word. Andreas felt foolish for not figuring this all out at the start. “It will not work,” he said. “Papa is not going to break this betrothal and if you keep this up, he will not break it simply to teach you a lesson. You cannot bend him to your will, Gar. You know this.”
Gar still didn’t respond. He simply spurred Taches forward, carving a path through the center of the escort until he reached his father. As he drew near, he heard Troy grunt.
“God,” he muttered. “I can smell you coming.”
Gar reined his horse alongside his father.
“I do not understand why everyone is making my personal choices out to be such a monumental issue,” he said.
“You sent Dray to speak to me about it again? And he accuses me of deliberately avoiding washing myself so the de Reyne daughter will take one look at me and demand her father break the betrothal? I find that incredibly insulting.”
Troy looked at him. His big, handsome son with Rhoswyn, their firstborn. He’d been so proud of Gar and, truth be told, still was. Nothing could change that. But he was being pushed to his limit by a stubborn man and, quite frankly, he was at the end of his patience.
It was time for this game to end.
“Do you know what I find incredibly insulting?” he said. “That you would think so little of the de Wolfe name that you would deliberately shame your family with your actions.”
Gar looked at his father, frowning. “How am I shaming the de Wolfe name?”
Troy sighed heavily. “I am not going to explain this to you yet one more time,” he said.
“You know the issue, yet you refuse to amend your actions or your appearance. You know that the moment we go through the gates of Hensingham, I will be embarrassed. Dray will be embarrassed. Poppy, the greatest knight of his generation, will be shamed by your actions, a man who has done nothing to deserve it. All because you do not want to do as you are told.”
“But, Papa, I—”
Troy cut him off. “Shut your lips,” he growled.
“I do not want to hear your excuses or your reasons, because they mean nothing to me. You have always been my most obedient son, Gar, the man I could depend the most on. But when it truly comes to something important, like a marriage to create a strong alliance, you would rather ruin this for all of us than do your duty. If you truly feel like our relationship will be the same after this event, then you must continue. But know that I, for one, will never look at you the same way again.”
With that, he spurred his horse forward, away from the escort and over the rise as the great fortress of Hensingham Castle came into view.
He left behind him a son who was genuinely hurt by his words, mostly because nothing he’d said was untrue.
That was the truth of it. Gar had resisted, even pitched a tantrum, but he’d been unsuccessful at getting his way.
He was unsuccessful. An entire de Wolfe family harassing him hadn’t done what a few short sentences from his father had done.
Troy finally put it in terms he could understand.
Shame.
Nay, he didn’t wish to shame his family. No matter how much he didn’t want this marriage, he didn’t want to ruin his relationship with his father more. It had come to that. Perhaps it was time to finally put aside his monumental pride and do his duty. As much as he hated to admit it.
The escort continued the rest of the way to Hensingham’s gatehouse in silence.
When the party drew close, Gar could see his father in the gatehouse speaking to a tall, gray-haired man.
His father was off his horse, standing alongside the man who seemed genuinely glad to see him.
They were having a rather animated conversation from what Gar could see, but he rode straight up to the men, dismounted his horse, and focused on the man who was speaking to his father.
He didn’t even wait to be introduced.
“My lord,” he said, interrupting their conversation. “I am Gar de Wolfe. Are you Lord Hensingham?”
The man appeared both pleased and slightly taken aback by Gar’s seemingly forceful manner. “I am,” he said. “I am Reece de Reyne. Do you not remember me, Gar?”
Gar smiled weakly. “I was young those years ago, my lord,” he said. “I apologize that I did not recognize you on sight. But I am hoping you can assist me before we proceed further.”
By this time, Troy was looking at him with great curiosity. He was afraid that Gar had another end game in mind, but Reece didn’t know that. He nodded to Gar’s question.
“If I can,” he said. “What is it you require?”
Gar pointed to himself. “I have just come from a series of battles on the Scots border that has seen my garrison in the center of it,” he said.
“When you sent word to my father about executing the marital contract, I had very little time to do much more than get on my horse and come. As you can see, and possibly smell, I’ve not had the opportunity to bathe or clean up as I had hoped.
We simply came as soon as you summoned us.
I am ashamed that you should see me in such condition, but such is the life of a fighting man.
I do not wish to risk offending your daughter, so I am hoping you can provide me with a place to wash so that I might be presentable. ”
As Troy fought off a smile, one of both relief and approval, Reece was more than willing to help Gar in his time of need.
“It would be my pleasure,” he said. “I have heard about the trouble you are facing on the border. I am glad to see that you have survived without injury.”