Chapter Four #2
Gar didn’t want to dig himself into a hole. He really didn’t. He didn’t want to be married, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt her feelings. Even without Maksim’s threat, he still would not have wished to hurt her.
“Men do not usually look forward to things like that,” he said. “They have other things on their mind.”
“Like what?”
Gar shrugged. “It is men who control England,” he said. “Men who keep it safe from the Scots and the Welsh and the French. We worry about making it safe so that ladies like you can live in peace and own wild dogs who tear people’s clothing.”
Mattie glanced up from what she was doing, which happened to be stitching together those big pieces of linen. “Is that what you do?” she said. “Protect women like me?”
“Aye.”
“But I am nowhere near the Scots border.”
“You are closer than you think.”
“They never make it over here.”
“That is because men like me are keeping them on their side of the border.”
She paused in her stitching, looking up at him. “Fair point,” she said. Then, she returned her focus to her sewing. “Tell me, my lord—if I were to ask your father or brother about you, what would they tell me?”
Gar could see that she was making something with those linen squares, but he couldn’t tell what it was. “That I am devoted to my men, to my family, and to my cause,” he said. “What else should they tell you?”
“I would hope they would tell me what kind of man you are.”
“I just told you.”
She continued to busily sew. “You told me of attributes,” she said. “Is that all you are? Devoted to your men, your family, and your cause?”
“What else should I be?”
She shrugged as she added another piece of linen. “A well-rounded man is many things,” she said. “Do you like to laugh? Do you enjoy singing? Do you enjoy telling stories of valor? Do you enjoy reading?”
“Reading?” he repeated, frowning. “I do not have time. I have a clerk that reads and writes for me.”
“But you can read and write?”
“Of course I can.”
“Then what are your likes, my lord?” she asked. “Do you have any diversions you are fond of?”
She couldn’t see his expression as he watched her lowered head. “You ask many questions.”
“It is my right. We are betrothed.”
Gar didn’t reply. Mattie continued sewing as he continued standing there, watching her through the tiny window. But he didn’t want to do that any longer.
He needed to get out there and face her.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything to wear.
His breeches were in tatters and the tunic he’d been wearing, and the accompanying protection, was in a pile on the floor.
The same servant who had washed him was shaking it all out, preparing to clean it, but Gar wasn’t watching the man go about his duties.
He was more interested in what the man was wearing.
He had an idea.
Out in the sun, Mattie continued sewing the pieces of linen together, wondering where Gar had gone.
He’d fallen silent. When she dared to look up at the small window, she couldn’t see his eyes any longer.
She was wondering if she’d offended him with her attempt to come to know him and thought about calling out to him again, but decided against it.
He was still in there, somewhere, but clearly no longer wished to speak to her.
As she debated what to do about it, the door to the knights’ quarters suddenly opened.
Mattie looked up in time to see an enormous man come through the door, shoeless, with breeches that were far too small for him and a tunic that hardly fit.
He looked like a sausage that had burst its casing.
She erupted into laughter.
Gar knew he looked ridiculous, but her laughter was doing something to his ego. He frowned at her.
“I know how foolish this looks,” he said. “But I have no other clothing and it is not suitable for me to continue to talk to you through a window. With a conversation like this, we must speak face to face.”
Mattie had her hand over her face as she struggled to stop the giggles. Just when she thought she had herself under control, she looked at him and the laughter started all over again.
“You look as if you have stolen a child’s clothing,” she said.
Gar wasn’t happy with her insult, true though it was. “I told you that I do not have any clothing of my own right now,” he said. “Your brother was supposed to find me something to wear, so until he does, this is all I have.”
Mattie was laughing so hard that she was crying. “Do not let anyone else see you like that,” she said. “They will think you’ve gone simple in the head.”
Increasingly annoyed, but strangely charmed by her laughter, Gar folded his arms over his chest and ended up tearing the seam on the tunic.
The sleeve came away from the torso portion with a loud ripping sound.
Mattie screamed with laughter as he tried to keep his dignity by pretending it didn’t matter to him, but the truth was that the breeches were far too small and he risked tearing those, too.
Better say what he needed to say and say it quickly before the entire garment came apart.
“I am glad you find my embarrassment so hilarious,” he said sarcastically. “Lady, I’ve come a long way and I would appreciate it if you stopped laughing at me.”
Mattie took a deep breath, struggling to regain her composure, but it started right up again when she looked at him, so she quickly focused on the sewing in her lap. Furiously, she resumed working on it.
“My apologies,” she said, stitching quickly. “I will not laugh again.”
He cocked a dark eyebrow. “Somehow, I do not think you can hold to that vow,” he said. “I think you find me foolish, which brings me back to the point I was making before. Wouldn’t you rather marry someone who is better suited to you?”
Mattie remained focused on her sewing. “Since you have asked me again, am I to understand that you wish to marry someone who is better suited to you?”
“This is not about me,” he said. “I do not want you to make a mistake and regret it for the rest of your life. It would make both of us miserable.”
“Just what is that you think makes us so unsuitable for one another?”
He wondered if he just shouldn’t come out with it. Perhaps he’d danced around the subject long enough.
It was time for truth.
“My lady, let me tell you about my home,” he said.
“If we marry, I will take you there and that is where we shall live. My garrison is in a remote area of the Scots border called Gleann na Fola Castle. It is a fortress built for defense, not comfort. The walls are tall, the chambers small, the windows smaller, and it is rather compact. That means the stables and men are crowded into the lower bailey and the kitchen is in the lower level of the keep. The level above that is the great hall. Above that are more chambers, living chambers, but because space is at a premium, those chambers are often full of stores so the Scots cannot steal them. It is freezing in the wintertime and cold in the summertime, and there are no women there at all. It is all men. I have a thousand-man standing army, so it is crowded. It smells of men and animals and I am used to it that way, so have no illusions that it is a fine palace. It would be hell for someone like you. You would hate it the moment you arrived.”
Mattie didn’t reply right away. She kept her head down, sewing with purpose.
She was clearly making something, but it still wasn’t clear to Gar what, exactly, she was making.
He was more focused on her, on her lowered head, watching her delicate hands fly with the needle, noting the myriad colors in her hair as the sun glistened off it.
She truly was an exquisite creature, but even so, he sensed a steely strength in her.
She wasn’t a flighty female. That much was clear.
This was a woman of substance.
Already, he knew that.
“And you think I would be unhappy in such a place?” she said after a moment.
Gar nodded. “I do,” he said. “I truly do.”
She continued to sew, pondering his honesty. At least, he thought so. But he was wrong. Something else had been building up in that pretty head and it was about to come flying out at him.
“How kind of you to be concerned only with me,” she said, but she didn’t mean it.
“But how manipulative. Do you think I am stupid, Sir Gar? Do you think I cannot see that you are trying to convince me that you are only concerned with my happiness so that I can break this betrothal that you clearly want nothing to do with?”
For such a small woman, she was intimidating when she was angry.
Gar wasn’t hard pressed to admit that. “My lady, I am simply being honest with what you are facing,” he said evenly.
“You and I were children when we met ten years ago. The situation has changed dramatically. I’m no longer that young man who saved you from de Vries and you are no longer the young woman who needed saving.
We are two different souls, lady. Can you not see that? ”
Her sewing was growing faster, her movements jerky.
At one point, she reached into the sewing kit and pulled forth a pair of shears, cutting some material into strips, which she proceeded to sew onto one end of whatever she was making.
She didn’t reply to him, but continued working on her project until, finally, she seemed to be finished.
The patches of linen she’d brought with her were now all sewn together and when she stood up abruptly from the stump she’d been sitting on, she held up what it was.
A pair of quickly stitched-together breeches.
“Here,” she said, thrusting them at him. “Since my dog ruined your clothing, you can wear these until you find something more suitable. Burn them when you no longer have a use for them, because I certainly do not want anything to remind you of me.”
He caught the breeches, which were practically thrown at him. Clutching them against his abdomen, he looked down at the garment in shock.
“You made a pair of breeches?” he said, astonished. “Right now? As we were speaking?”
She was closing up the sewing kit. “It is not as difficult as you make it sound,” she said.
“I just sewed the linen together. They are big pieces, so it was simple enough. There are two sleeves for your legs and the breeches will tie up at the top so you can secure it around your waist. I know it is not very elegant, but as you have pointed out, you are not an elegant man. But mayhap you can get some use out of them.”
Gar didn’t know what to say. As he looked at the breeches, a creeping sense of guilt washed over him.
Had he been so cruel to this woman who was trying so hard to make amends with him for what her dog had done?
Was he being so stubborn about this marriage that he was overlooking the fact that, perhaps, they weren’t so terribly different?
He simply didn’t know.
“My lady,” he finally said. “I am… humbled. You did not have to do this.”
Mattie closed the top of the sewing kit and faced him.
“Aye, I did,” she said. “Your breeches were ruined because of my dog and since you would not let me repair them, I used what I’d brought for the repair to fashion you a new pair.
But this conversation has been enlightening.
I see now that you only came here out of obligation, but with no real intention of going through with the marriage.
And you may deny it all you wish, but you have been trying to manipulate me into breaking the betrothal because you are too much of a coward to do it yourself.
Given that I am the only one between us with a sense of decency, I will do as you wish.
I will ask my father to break the betrothal.
Is there anything else I can do for you to make your life easier, my lord? ”
God, but the woman could be vicious when she wanted to. Vicious and utterly, completely in the right. Gar was a knight’s knight, a man who commanded thousands, a man who could keep the raging Scots at bay, but at this moment, he felt completely belittled and beaten down by a woman half his size.
But he absolutely deserved it.
“My lady, I am sorry if you feel slighted,” he said, genuinely meaning what he said. “It was not my intention to offend you. You are a beautiful woman, very accomplished, and any man would feel extremely fortunate to have you.”
“Anyone but you,” she said pointedly. Bending down, she picked up the sewing kit, preparing to take her leave, but her gaze lingered on him.
The hurt, the disappointment in her expression, was obvious.
“Just so you are aware, from the moment our betrothal was final, I have been completely faithful to you. There have been many men who tried to woo me, but I sent every one of them away. Every single one. You see, I was betrothed to the great Gar de Wolfe, son of Lord Braemoor, and a knight with an astonishing reputation even at a young age. I was so proud of that, so I considered it a privilege to be completely faithful to you. I can see now that my loyalty was wasted. You did not ask for it, but I gave it because it was the right thing to do. My apologies that you were betrothed to a woman who worshipped the very thought of you. My apologies if that was not what you wanted. I do hope you find a woman worthy of you, someday.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed back across the bailey, leaving Gar standing there feeling like a monster.
A horrible, vicious monster. It didn’t take an epiphany to quickly come to the conclusion that the only person between them who wasn’t worthy in this situation was him.
That articulate, kind, magnificent woman was far too good for him.
She’d been open and generous, and he’d been a scoundrel.
He’d just done what Maksim had told him not to do.
He’d broken her heart.
Devastated by what he’d just done, he took his patchwork breeches and headed back into the knights’ quarters.
He had some thinking to do.