He shrugged, those big shoulders lifting. “Though we have known each other a very short time, I have seen much that I like during that time and very little that I don’t. I may be many things, but a bad judge of character is not one of them. My life has depended on it. I would be willing to wager that you are a woman of good character.”
She was beginning to feel that wonderful warmth again, something he seemed so capable of creating between them. “Even though I do not like to tend wounds?”
He laughed softly. “Aye, even though you do not like to tend wounds.”
“And even though I do not like to sew?”
“Aye, even that.”
Her gaze continued to linger on him, drifting over the enormous bicep near his head, the muscular build of his bare chest. Being a proper lady, she should have been embarrassed faced with the bare flesh of a man, but found that she was not. She rather liked looking at him.
“What do you like to do, Matt?”
His easy smile turned gentle; he liked hearing his name come out of her mouth. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged and lay back down beside him; he gathered her into his arms and held her close. “I mean just that,” she said softly. “I like to tend flowers and sometimes I like to draw. What do you like to do in your leisure time?”
He thought a moment. “I have been a sworn knight since I was seventeen years of age,” he said pensively. “All I have known is war since that time. Seventeen years of battles. I suppose there hasn’t been much time for leisure.”
“But if there was time, what would you do?”
He tickled her nose. “Probably spend it with you.”
She giggled and swatted at his hand. “Aye, but doing what?”
He snorted, burying his face in her neck, his hot hands once again moving down the hollow of her slender back. “Doing what we just did.”
She laughed softly, pushing at him. “Be serious. I am attempting to get to know you, husband. You could cooperate.”
He pulled back and looked at her, though the blue eyes were still full of humor. Errant strands of bronze hair were in her face and he pushed them aside to get a better view.
“Sorry,” he said, though he really wasn’t. “I suppose if I had to think of one thing I like to do, ’tis to go fishing.”
“Fishing?”
“Aye. I used to do it with my father when I was a lad. In fact, I could fish before I could walk. There is much peace and serenity to fishing, far removed from the cries and violence of the battlefield. Fishing, to me, has always signified peace because I learned it at such a young age before I even learned to wield a sword.”
“I have never been fishing.”
“Then we shall have to remedy that.”
She grinned at him, a joyful smile which he easily returned. He wanted nothing more than to make love to her again, but he refrained. Better to bask in the wonder and joy of their first time together. She was his wife now and he looked forward to a lifetime of opportunity to further acquaint himself with her lovely mind and body.
She fell back asleep in his arms. Though Matthew did not sleep, he stayed with her and did not move a muscle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was dawn.The battlements of Wellesbourne were bathed in pink light as the sun began to rise, basking the green countryside of Warwickshire in warm, soothing shades. From his post on the wall, Matthew could see a three-point buck in the distance, finding his morning meal.
Birds flew overhead, singing sweetly to greet the new day. He glanced up at the lavender sky; perhaps the birds always sang so sweetly and he just hadn’t noticed. But this morning, he found pleasantness in nearly everything. He had left his wife still sleeping in her small bed, warm and cozy, and for the moment, life was good. It was surprising to realize that there was an agreeable side to his existence, far removed from the war and death he was so accustomed to.
But that was until Mark and Luke arrived. The middle Wellesbourne brothers looked dismal and tired. It was usual, when the army was housed at Wellesbourne Castle, for Mark and Luke to take the night watch. Matthew and John usually patrolled during the day, and with Matthew, sometimes all night as well. But last night, Matthew had found great comfort sleeping next to his wife in her small bed. By his brothers’ expressions, he guessed that it had not been a quiet patrol.
“Greetings, brother,” Mark said as he approached.
Matthew pushed himself up off the wall where he had been leaning. “Good morn,” he acknowledged. He looked between Mark and Luke. “Why the grim faces?”
Mark and Luke came to a halt, Luke rubbing his eyes wearily. “We received a rider from Warwick last night,” Mark said. “TheEarl of Oxford has made it to France, apparently quite welcomed by Henry Tudor. He brings with him the de Vere fortune to support the French mercenaries that Henry must pay for in his quest to claim the throne. This is bad news, Matt. It gives Henry more powerful barons than we would like.”
