Chapter Seven #2
She was being sweet and encouraging, but Gar wanted to run.
He’d done everything he could for this marriage already—he’d come under his own power.
He’d relented to his father and gone through with it.
But there was nothing in the laws, by God or by king, that said he had to dance with his new wife.
He was about to feign a twisted ankle when Maksim and Andreas suddenly appeared on either side of him.
“Bess the Bold, the whore foretold, had hips that told a tale,
Of princes charmed and pirates fooled and pleasure bought with ale!
She found a knight, a handsome lad, and whispered in his ear—
‘I’ve the sheath, my love, to bury your sword, and you’ll none find better than here!’”
Gar burst out laughing as Maksim handed him another cup of wine. He was still holding on to Mattie with one hand, but he took the cup and downed it in one swallow. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a neat man and the last few drops of it ended up splashing on Mattie.
Right on that beautiful blue silk.
Gar lost his humor in an instant.
“God’s Bones,” he said. “I am so terribly sorry. Please forgive me. It was an accident.”
He was genuinely contrite and Mattie looked down at the bodice.
It was barely speckled with two tiny drops of wine.
Before she could reply, however, Julia was there, inspecting the damage.
She was certain her mother was going to explode at both Gar and Maksim, but surprisingly, she didn’t.
She took her daughter by the hand and began to lead her away.
“Come with me,” she said. “We will change you out of the garment so I can have the laundress look at it. We will find you something else to wear so you that you may return to the feast.”
Mattie looked at Gar, who still seemed horrified by what he’d done. But her mother was tugging her away, so there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to stay, to continue dancing with her husband, and perhaps he sensed that because he began to follow.
“Empress?” he said. “May I come?”
Julia glanced over her shoulder, seeing the big knight following. He had clearly decided to call her what he deemed an appropriate name for his wife’s mother and, thinking it rather charming, she didn’t correct him.
“It is not necessary, Gar,” she said. “I will return her shortly.”
But Gar didn’t back off. He continued to follow them out into the night, into the bailey, with the big keep to their right. Julia and Mattie were about halfway to the keep entry when Gar caught up to them.
“Wait, please,” he said, watching the women pause to look at him.
“The hour grows late and I am not entirely sure I want to return to the feast because Maks will force more wine down my throat and my father will threaten to monopolize all of my attention because he will want to discuss family business, so if you are agreeable, I would like to take Lady de Wolfe to our chamber for the night.”
Lady de Wolfe.
That was the first time Mattie had heard herself referred to as such and it made her feel rather warm and giddy inside. She looked at her mother, seeing that Julia didn’t seem troubled by the suggestion. In fact, she nodded.
“That seems wise,” she said. “It is growing late, as you said, and the men will only become more drunk. It will cease to become a wedding celebration at some point. Very well, then—you and my daughter may retreat to her chamber. I have had it prepared. I will go back into the hall and find Agnes and send her to bed. She does not need to be in the hall as the lone female among wolves.”
With that, she kissed her daughter on the cheek, looking at her as if she wanted to say something more, but refraining. Her warm expression said everything words could not. Mattie watched her mother retreat toward the great hall, hearing a soft voice beside her.
“Come along, my queen,” Gar said. “It has been a long day.”
Mattie turned to him, smiling. “I’m your queen, am I?” she said. “Mother is the empress and I am the queen.”
He nodded, taking her by the hand. “I may not know anything about marriage, or women in general, but I do know one thing,” he said.
“Women are the queen wherever they live and breathe. I’ve watched my mother and grandmother enough to know that.
And every wife should be treated like a queen. My father has set that example.”
Mattie giggled softly. “Good,” she said. “Then he has taught you something about marriage.”
They began to walk, heading up the steps toward the keep entry. “He hasn’t so much taught me as I have simply observed,” Gar said, politely taking her elbow. “The women in my family are revered. That is simply the way of things.”
“Tell me about your mother,” Mattie said, interest in her tone. “Why didn’t she come with you to Hensingham?”
“Because my brother’s wife just had a child,” he said. “The child is not thriving and my mother thought it would be best if she remained with my brother and his wife, simply to help out. If the child did not survive, she did not want to be away.”
“Understandable,” Mattie said. “She sounds like a caring woman.”
They were inside the keep now and Gar collected one of the torches on the wall to light their way up the spiral stairs.
“She is,” Gar said. “She is also Scots to the bone, as is my grandmother. There are many Scots in my family, so you are aware. I think my brothers and some of my cousins are truly men of two countries because of it. My mother’s father is a clan chief called Red Keith Kerr. He’s a terror.”
They were nearing the top of the steps at this point, moving in the light of the torch through the darkness. “My mother’s mother is also Scots,” she said. “She is related to Robert de Brus, Lord Annandale.”
“How is she related to him?”
“Through an aunt.”
“Annandale is the Scottish royal family.”
Mattie nodded as they headed down a small corridor. “Through her, I am descended from King David of Scotland,” she said. “But it is a female line, so it means little.”
“It is still royal blood,” Gar said. “I do not know if my father knew that. He never mentioned it.”
“Does it matter?”
They had reached a closed door and Mattie lifted the latch, pushing the door open to reveal a warm, fragrant, and comfortable chamber beyond.
There was an enormous canopied bed in the center of it, with heavy woolen curtains all around.
A fire burned brightly in the hearth, creating a warm atmosphere.
Gar was rather pleased by it all and would have said so had something not launched itself at his hip.
Winchester was on the attack.
Mattie shrieked when the dog grabbed hold of the edge of Gar’s blue tunic, growling and yanking at it. He wasn’t actually biting Gar, but he was determined to tear the tunic to pieces. With a heavy sigh, Gar rolled his eyes and looked down at the dog as it tugged and tugged, snarling all the way.
Mattie raced over and grabbed the dog by the neck.
“Winnie, stop!” she commanded. “Let go this instant!”
Winchester failed to respond. He was going to rip the tunic right off Gar’s body because, clearly, the garment must have also offended him at some point in its life.
Gar kept his hands up so the dog couldn’t bite them, but he didn’t move.
He just stood there, looking at the dog as Mattie tried to pull him away.
“Mayhap if we ignore him, he will exhaust himself and move on,” Gar said.
Mattie was seriously tugging on the dog. “He has never done this before,” she said, grunting. “My apologies that he seems to have a dislike for you.”
Gar just stood there, being buffeted around slightly as Mattie tried to pull the dog away.
She finally managed to do it, embracing the dog around his chest as she carried him to the door.
Gar moved around her, and the dog, opening the panel so she could toss the dog out.
She barely managed to make it back inside before Gar slammed the door, keeping the barking, snapping dog out on the landing.
Slightly winded from the fight, Mattie pushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.
“Naughty beast,” she said. “He really is very sweet, though I’m sure you cannot see that. He is very protective of me.”
“Good,” Gar said. “I’m glad. That means when I am away, you have a protector.”
Mattie smiled reluctantly. “I suppose,” she said. Then, it occurred to her that they were finally alone in her chamber and she began to feel a little nervous. “Now that the violence has been tossed outside the door, I suppose we should prepare for our… evening.”
Gar could hear the timidity in her voice. Truth be told, he was feeling a little himself. “It seems strange, doesn’t it?” he said. “We’ve only just met, yet we are expected to know each other as husband and wife. We’ve not even called one another by our Christian names.”
Mattie was still smiling as she moved to the dressing table to remove the jewels she wore. “True,” she said. “Everything has happened very quickly.”
“It has.”
“I give you permission to call me Mattie if you wish.”
“Your name is Matilda.”
She nodded as she moved to unfasten the necklace. “Matilda Eleanor Joan Julia Catherine Fernanda,” she said. “I was named for nearly every woman in my family.”
He chuckled. “I would say so,” he said. “I feel rather simple with only one name.”
“Gar?”
“Gareth.”
“Why do you go by Gar?”
“Probably for the same reason you are called Mattie,” he said. “Something in childhood that stuck. That is my identity now. Gareth is a stranger.”
The necklace came off and Mattie carefully set it on the table. “Are you named for someone?”
“Nay,” he said. “But my siblings and I all have singular names. Nothing nearly as elaborate as yours.”
She went to pull the pins out of her hair. “How many siblings to you have?”
“Six,” he said. “Four brothers and two sisters. My sisters are young and silly and they will be thrilled to have an older sister in you. I hope you are prepared for a good deal of hero worship.”