“I do.”
“Did she tell you?”
“She said she has four hundred soldiers and a sizable dowry waiting for her outside, and that she is on her way to Wellesbourne Castle to marry her betrothed.”
Matthew continued to sit immobile. Luke wasn’t even sure if his brother was breathing. Finally, Matthew cast a long glance at his brother before looking to the lady.
She stood in the middle of the room, a vision of ruby and lustrous hair. She had the most beautiful face he had ever seen, delicate and sweet, yet with a hint of wisdom that was difficult to describe.
A cursory examination of the lady showed him absolutely no physical flaws as far as he could tell. But the expression she held was of indignant outrage, tempering his reaction to her presence.
“What did you say to her?” he asked his brother.
Luke was glad he was out of arm’s range. He did not want a massive fist to come flying at him. “I… I told her that you were terrible company because you were awaiting the arrival of your betrothed whom you did not want to marry.”
“Is that all?”
Luke winced, closing his eyes. “I said awful things.”
“How awful?”
“She hates us, I know it.”
Matthew did not want a fight on his hands from the onset. In fact, gazing at the lady, he wasn’t sure he wanted a fight at all. He was rather taken aback by what he saw. The only appropriate thing to do was face her.
Matthew rose from his chair slowly, like the phoenix rising from the ashes, a massive man with equally massive shoulders on which to bear the weight of a kingdom. Everything about him reeked of power and command as his presence, once seated and inconspicuous, now filled the entire room.
It was a gesture not lost on Alixandrea. In fact, she had to suppress the urge to back away. She’d never seen such a sizeable man, even though he was in full armor which made him appear even larger. To her credit, she stood her ground as he approached. When he came within a few feet of her, he stopped.
“Lady Alixandrea?” he asked.
“I am the Lady Alixandrea,” she not too subtly corrected the pronunciation of her name,Alix-ahn-dray-a,so that he would know for future reference. “And you are Sir Matthew?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Aye,” his deep voice was without force. “Forgive me, my lady. This is not how I had planned our first meeting.”
Her lovely lips turned up at the corners cynically. “From what I understand, were it left up to you, there would be no first meeting at all. Just how did you plan it?”
Matthew could only imagine what his foolish brother had told her.Awful things. Unless Matthew wanted this marriage to be strained and conflicting from the beginning, he had to make amends. He had to undo the damage that Luke had done.
“Certainly not in a tavern with my brother drunk and me well on my way,” he said. “I had hoped to meet you at Wellesbourne in the great hall where the appropriate introductions would take place.”
She cocked her head slightly, studying him; he was a handsome man, not obviously beautiful, but in a rugged, masculine sort of way that was both powerful and intriguing. His pale blond hair was shorn tight against his scalp, curly and coarse. He had enormous blue eyes, a square jaw and gentle-looking features that were oddly out of place for a man of his fierce reputation. His ears even stuck out a little, giving him an inherently human quality.
But in that quality was something innately calm, although she knew that he was one of the most fearsome knights in therealm. He had been with King Richard on many campaigns against Henry Tudor’s forces and had proven himself without question. She’d been hearing tales of The White Lord of Wellesbourne since she had been ten years old. It was a long time to hear of a legend.
So the man did not want to be married. There was no great crime in that. But she was disappointed. Somehow she had hoped that he would have longed to know her just as she had longed to know him. Her uncle had filled her with fairy tales of the man. Matthew had apparently been filled with horror stories of her.
“Then let us make the introductions now, however inappropriate,” she said, trying not to sound too bitter. “My uncle Howard Terrington, Lord Ryesdale, sends his greetings. I am the Lady Alixandrea Terrington St. Ave and I have come with my maidservant, my manservant outside, and four hundred soldiers to be placed under your command. Such were the terms of the contract, my lord. We are fulfilling our pledge.”
Matthew found himself watching her mouth as she spoke. Her lips were sweet and pillowy and lush. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, dirty and minimally drunk as he was, to be greeting this intriguing creature.
It was occurring to him that she was not at all what he had expected. The reluctance and bitterness that he had associated with this betrothal for so many years was quickly turning into something different. He did not know what yet, but it was different.
“And I am Sir Matthew Wellesbourne, Lord Ettington, heir to Wellesbourne Castle and sworn servant to our king, the illustrious Richard,” he took another step towards her, keenly aware of their size difference; he was easily twice her width and more than a foot taller. “I welcome you to Wellesbourne and would ask the honor of escorting you to the castle, my lady.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure that doing so would not take you away from your ale and wenches, my lord?”
Now he knew what Luke had been telling her. He resisted the urge to grab his brother by the neck and squeeze.
