CHAPTER FOUR
For a day that had started so beautiful, the weather turned bad quickly. It was just a few miles from Brampton to Kirklinton Castle but as the weather threatened, Mathias picked up the pace.
He was disappointed, too, because the first hour of their ride had been very pleasant and leisurely. He and Cathlina had spoken of trivial things, like little stories from when they were younger or, in Cathlina’s case, a grandfather who had no teeth and spent all of his time gnawing on animal bones like a dog. She had giggled through the story and Mathias had been charmed by the way she told it. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt his wall of self-protection crumbling. De Lara or no, he was deeply attracted to her.
But then the clouds rolled in and the breeze began to pick up. He watched the sky turn dark but Kirklinton was at least another hour away so he gently prodded Cathlina to move a bit faster. But she wasn’t interested in returning home any time soon. She was more interested in their conversation and truth be told, so was he. Their quickened pace didn’t last long before they were back to a leisure stroll.
Mathias rode a big, heavy gray charger that was well past its prime. When he’d had his knighthood stripped, they’d taken his charger as well and he missed the horse very much. It had been Justus who had purchased the old charger for his son a few months after that fateful day and Mathias was rather fond of the beast, but he soon discovered it was rather skittish. It particularly didn’t like thunder. Every time the clouds rolled, the horse would jump. As Cathlina chattered on, it was taking increasing effort to control the old stud.
“Now you know all about my silly grandfather,” she said as fat drops of rain began to splatter. “Tell me about your family, Mathias. I have met your father and brother. Where is your mother?”
He clucked to the big horse to soothe it. “My mother died a few years ago,” he told her. “In fact, I was away at the time. My mother and I were rather close and it was always a regret that I was not with her in her final hours.”
Cathlina turned serious as he spoke of his mother. “I am sorry,” she said softly. “Was your mother ill for a long time?”
Mathias nodded. “She was,” he said. “I tried to spend as much time as I could with her but at that time in my life, I was traveling quite a bit and could not stay by her side for an over amount of time.”
“Traveling?” Cathlina asked, cocking her head. “Where were you traveling to?”
Mathias had been very careful throughout the conversation to avoid any mention of his knightly past. He’d done a good job of it so far but questions like the one Cathlina proposed could get him into trouble, so he was very careful in how he answered it.
“I was learning my trade,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie. He had been a young knight learning his trade – he simply didn’t specify which trade, smithy or knighthood. “My travels took me to France and to Italy.”
“You have been to Italy?” Cathlina was enthralled. “How was it? Was it beautiful? Did you go to Rome? My father went to Rome. He said the streets were paved with gold.”
Mathias laughed softly at her enthusiasm. “It is a beautiful city, to be sure,” he agreed. “There are many ancient and mysterious buildings. The people there told me that gods used to live in them.”
Cathlina’s mouth popped open in awe. “Is this true?”
He fought off a grin at her gullible astonishment. “That is what I was told.”
Cathlina thought long and hard about buildings where gods used to live. “I would certainly like to see them someday,” she said fervently. “Mayhap I shall travel there as well.”
Mathias studied her lovely face, so pure and sweet. He wanted to offer to escort her there, he truly did. He was so upswept in the moment, feeling giddy as he hadn’t felt since he had been a young boy. He would travel the world with her if only to speak on things like silly grandfathers and godly abodes. It made him feel more wonderful than he could ever recall, this beautiful young woman with the silly giggle. But the offer would not have been appropriate, and he was sorry.
“I am sure you will,” he said quietly.
She caught something in his tone, something that was both wistful and genuine, but by the time she turned to him, he was looking away from her. It seemed that he had spotted something up the road and she strained to see what had his attention. He seemed concerned and that, in turn, had her concerned.
“What is it?” she asked. “What do you see?”
Mathias wasn’t sure, but it was men on horseback. He could see them just over the rise, heading in their direction. Soon enough, they would be upon them. The wind whipped and the thunder grumbled as he watched their distant approach.
“Men on horseback,” he replied steadily. “More than likely, more knights for the tournament. More horses I must shoe.”
He said it with some humor, trying to deflect any concern over the potential approach of danger. He was successful in diverting her attention and when he turned to look at her, she was smiling at him.
“It is a pity that the tournament is only open to knights,” she said. “You are quite brave. I would wager that you could do very well in a tournament given the chance.”
Mathias stared at her. Her innocent statement brought an avalanche of memories crashing down on him. He’d competed in dozens of tournaments in his lifetime and for six years in a row had been the man to beat in every tournament from Edinburgh to Southampton. But that had been in between Mortimer’s wars, and he hadn’t competed in a tournament in at least four years. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“It takes more than bravery to compete,” he told her. “It takes a good deal of skill and strength.”
“Do you know much about tournaments?”
“I know enough.”
“I saw one tournament a few years ago,” Cathlina said. “When I fostered at Lincoln Castle, there was a very large tournament one year. Our lord and several of his knights competed. It was very exciting.”
A warning bell went off in Mathias’ head. He turned to her. “Who was your lord?”
“Ranulf de Pennington,” she replied. “He held the castle for the crown. He nearly won the joust but a big black knight under Roger Mortimer’s banner beat him. Nearly drove Lord Ranulf right into the ground. We all hated him very much after that.”
Mathias looked away. That big black knight was me, he thought ironically. Odd how the world, so big most of the time, had suddenly grown quite small. “Did you even know the knight’s name or was he simply the Hated One?”
Cathlina giggled. “I do not recall,” she said. “It was something like Rain or Rainton. I do not remember. If I ever meet this man, I will punch him right in the nose and call it justice for Lord Ranulf.”
It was de Reyne. Mathias knew she didn’t know his surname because he never told her. He thought to never tell her now lest she punch him in the nose. Moreover, it seemed as if she already had a bad opinion of him. He cleared his throat, almost nervously, and hastened to change the subject.
“So you have been to Lincolnshire,” he said. “You have traveled a great deal. Many people do not ever leave the towns they were born in. You have been fortunate.”
She was successfully diverted. “I was at Lincoln Castle for six years,” she replied. “There was so much war going on and my father was away so often that my mother did not want her daughters away as well. I went to foster when I was eight years of age and returned home six years ago.”
“That would make you twenty years of age.”
“You are correct,” she said. “I had my birthday last month. How old are you?”
“Too old.”
She grinned. “It is not fair you know my age and I do not know yours.”
He cast her a sidelong glance. “I am much older than you.”
“How much older?”
“Thirteen years.” When she began to count her fingers, slowly, he laughed. “I have seen thirty-three years.”
“God’s Bones,” she said, shaking her head. “Are you truly so old? Why have you not married before now, Mathias?”
“Who says that I have not?”
“Have you?”
He snorted. “Nay,” he said. “I was betrothed once but she found a better prospect.”
The truth was that he had been betrothed to the Lady Lucy de Geneville, a niece of the Lady Joan, Roger Mortimer’s wife. But that betrothal had been quickly dissolved when Roger had been captured and anyone associated with him dishonored. He didn’t particularly care about it, although Lucy had been devastated. For some reason, she had fallen in love with him. He still remembered her tears when everything fell apart. Looking at Cathlina, for the first time in his life he was coming to understand, however small, the disappointment Lucy must have felt. To be separated from the person you so desperately want….
“Impossible,” Cathlina cut into his thoughts. “There is no better prospect than you. Why, you are a successful craftsman with a thriving business. I would think any young lady would be honored to be your betrothed.”
He gave her a half-smile, humble, but his eyes were on the knights that had now drawn much closer. In fact, they began to race towards them down the road, kicking up rocks and dirt, and the line of eight or ten men-at-arms behind them were also beginning to gallop. Mathias went on his guard.
“My lady,” he said, holding a hand out to her and trying to remain calm. “Come to me. I would have you get on my horse and ride with me.”
By this time, Cathlina saw the horses racing towards them and she was frightened. Dutifully, she directed her palfrey over to him and he took the reins to hold the horse steady.
“Those men?” she said, reaching over to pull herself onto his horse. “Who are they?”
He let go of her horse long enough to pull her up in front of him. She was warm and soft and smelled of lavender, but he ignored the very sweet sensations as he settled her on his lap. As the thunder rolled and the wind whipped her hair into his face, he let go of her palfrey so he could have full control of his steed. The old horse had a lot of strength but not a lot of speed, and he was without a weapon. He was mentally calculating the odds and several potential escape plans when Cathlina suddenly let out a hiss.
“It is Beauson,” she said. Then, she started waiving frantically. “Beauson!”
Mathias had no idea what she was doing, or who she was speaking of, but he quickly realized she knew the incoming knights. He held his charger steady as the party closed in on them.
It was a well-armed group. The de Lara knights were dressed for battle, including massive broadswords and a variety of smaller weapons. The men-at-arms were also well equipped. Both knights threw up their visors, angry and accusing eyes moving between Cathlina and Mathias. In fact, the knight in the lead unsheathed his broadsword and pointed it dangerously at Mathias.
“If you value your life, you will let her go,” he snarled. “Release her!”
“Wait!” Cathlina cried, throwing out her hands. “Put down your weapons, both of you! He has done nothing wrong!”
The knight retracted his sword somewhat but not all of the way. He was eyeing Mathias critically. The lady didn’t seem harassed or injured, but the man sitting behind her was very big and very menacing looking. The sword remained at the ready.
“What do you mean?” he demanded. “Your father is frantic, Lady Cathlina. What goes on here?”
“Beauson de Velt, put your sword away,” Cathlina commanded. “I rode into town on an errand and this man politely offered to escort me home. I am perfectly fine and everything is well. Put the sword away.”
Beauson eyed the young lady. He was more confused now than he was when he rode up. “What errand?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. The sword lowered. “What do you mean?”
Cathlina sighed impatiently. “I mean that this man saved Abechail and me yesterday from certain harm,” she said, gesturing at Mathias. “I went on an errand this morning to thank him. He is quite trustworthy, I assure you.”
Beauson wasn’t convinced. “Why did you not tell me or Dunstan so that we could escort you into town?”
She didn’t want to tell them the truth; it was that she hadn’t wanted anyone to stop her from going. She backed off somewhat, frowning.
“If I had wanted anyone to escort me, I would have asked,” she said. “Now, go over there somewhere. I will gather my horse and join you in a moment.”
Beauson eyed her a moment before eyeing Mathias. “I cannot leave you, my lady,” he replied. “I have orders from your father to bring you home.”
“You are not leaving me alone,” Cathlina said testily, slithering off of Mathias’ horse as he held her arm to gently ease her to the ground. “I have asked you to move away so that I may thank my escort and gather my horse. I do not wish to do this with you hovering over me like a hung dog. Go, Beauson. That is a command.”
Beauson sighed heavily, looking to Dunstan, who was the bigger yet less bright of the pair. Dunstan shrugged and was already moving away, snapping to the men-at-arms as he went. They were all shuffling back down the road in a group except for Beauson; he remained. He seemed to be very interested in Mathias.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Mathias opened his mouth but Cathlina cut him off. “I told you to move away,” she said, pointing an imperious finger to the group already down the road. “You will not ask his name. It is none of your business and if you do not move away, I will tell my father you were most disobedient and… and very naughty. Do you understand me?”
Beauson cleared his throat loudly, an unhappy gesture, and reined his horse sharply back, going to gather with the group that was now lingering about thirty or forty feet down the road. As the wind whipped and the rain began to pick up, Cathlina gathered the reins of her palfrey and made sure Beauson was out of earshot before facing Mathias.
He was still mounted on his horse, looking down at her with an expression between utter pleasure and utter longing. Cathlina could read emotions on his features and her heart began to beat strongly in her chest. She was feeling so many things that it was difficult to voice them but she was coming to realize that she was more than likely not the only one sad at their parting. Though Mathias had always been very polite and very kind, he’d never given her any indication that he might be romantically interested in her. Until now; she could see it on his face.
“Thank you for everything you have done,” she said softly, sincerely. “You saved me and my sister yesterday and I will always be grateful.”
He smiled faintly, feeling a tremendous pull. Those big brown eyes were sucking him in, swirling him in the maelstrom of her beauty until he was dizzy with it. He truly couldn’t stomach the thought of never seeing her again but he knew to carry on any relationship with her would have been extraordinarily unwise. She was a de Lara. Still, it was hard to resist a pull he’d never felt before and a lady he very much wanted to know. Torn, confused, his disappointment was palpable.
“You are more than welcome,” he said quietly. “If you should ever need saving again, please do not hesitate to send word to me.”
Her grin broadened. “Are you my savior, then? Do you plan to make a career out of it?”
He laughed, leaning forward on his saddle so he could be closer to her, however small the gesture. “I would do it quite happily, but I hope you will never again need saving. To save you means that you will be in some manner of danger, and that I could not abide. I would not ever wish that for you.”
She gazed at him seriously, her smile fading. “What will you do now, Mathias?”
“What do you mean?”
“Will you return to shoeing chargers for the tournament? Or will you mayhap travel to Italy again someday and relive the days of your youth?”
He shrugged. “If I go, it will not be alone,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “Mayhap I will take you along so I have someone to talk to. Sebastian can be such a bore and all he wants to do is chase women.”
She laughed. “I will not chase women, I promise,” she said, sobering. Her brown eyes glimmered at him. “If you go again, I do hope you will consider taking me. It would be a lovely thing to travel with you, I am sure.”
The conversation was coming to a close, Mathias could feel it. They were floating along on sweet, dreamy words, bordering on flirting, and he was scrambling for things to say, feeling a desperation he’d never felt before. He didn’t want the moment to end.
“Do you have plans for any more trips into town?” he asked. “If you do, mayhap you will do me the honor of another visit some time.”
Cathlina could feel the desperation, too. She didn’t want to leave him but she knew he had to return. She could feel the stares of her father’s knights on her back, heated and questioning.
“Father has made mention of coming to see the tournament that will take place in a couple of days,” she said. “We will be in town then and mayhap I will see you at that time.”
Mathias’ thoughts were running wild. We will be coming to see the tournament. He began to think all manner of foolish things at that moment. In fact, he could hardly contain himself. Reaching down, he took her hand and kissed it softly.
“You will see me at that time,” he said quietly. “Have no doubt that I will find you.”
Cathlina felt his kiss down to her toes. Other than her father and grandfather, a man had never kissed her, and certainly not in the sweet and warm way Mathias had. Wide-eyed, she watched him turn and ride off, wind gusts and rain pelting him as he went. In fact, the rain was falling fairly steadily and she had to wipe it from her eyes as she mounted her palfrey, but she hardly cared. Mathias the smithy had charmed her, had listened to her, and had finally kissed her. That was all she cared about.
Even when her father spent an hour yelling at her for being foolish, she considered the crime well worth the cost.