“I will not tell her,” she finally grumbled. “But tell me where you are going. What is in your basket?”
Cathlina settled down as well, though she was still eyeing her sister with some anger. Roxane had a way of getting under her skin.
“Breads and treats,” she finally said, returning her attention to her mare as she began to saddle the animal. “I am going to Brampton to bring them to the man who saved me and Abechail from the attacker yesterday. It is the least I can do.”
Roxane followed her sister to the horse and actually began helping her tack the animal. “The man?” she repeated, thinking back to the day before and the events surrounding Abechail’s near abduction. “The big man with the dark hair?”
Cathlina nodded as she strapped on the saddle. “Aye,” she said. “He said he would not take a reward but I feel strongly that I must do something for him. Had he not intervened, surely Abechail would now be lost. He would not even come to dine with us so I thought to bring him some manner of treats to show our gratitude.”
Roxane pulled the bridle off the nail on the wall above the mare’s head, her manner thoughtful. “What was his name again?”
“Mathias.”
“Mathias? What was his surname?”
“He did not say.”
Roxane fussed with the straps on the bridle, her mind drifting to the very big, very handsome man who had saved her sisters from tragedy. He had delightful dark hair and a sculpted face.
“Mathias,” she repeated, somewhat dreamily. “He was quite handsome, don’t you think?”
Cathlina could hear the hopeful tone and she was irritated by it. Her sister had an eye for men,anyman, and she could already tell that Roxane’s easily-won affections were about to shift to yesterday’s hero.
Cathlina had spent most of the evening thinking about the dark-haired stranger, pondering his beauteous face and deep, gentle voice. The massive arms, the unruly hair, the twinkle in the green eyes… she was smitten by the picture. The mysterious Mathias was her private joy and no one else’s, and certainly not her fickle sister. She would not share a secret fantasy that would surely never be fulfilled. It was but a dream, but it washerdream. She turned swiftly to Roxane, a finger in her face.
“You will not think of him,” she hissed. “If anyone is to show affection towards him, it will be me, do you hear? I was the one he saved, you little fool. You have Beauson and Dunstan to occupy your affections. Leave Mathias alone.”
Roxane looked rather surprised. Her sister never spoke of a man, so this was a rare occurrence. It also made Roxane very jealous because as the eldest, she felt it her birthright to have first right of refusal on any man that crossed the sisters’ path.
“Beauson and Dunstan are merely father’s knights,” she said. “They are not men I intend to marry.”
“Why not?”
Roxane shrugged her slender shoulders. “Because they are mere knights,” she repeated. “I will marry a lord.”
“Then you will put Mathias from your mind because he is not a lord. He is a smithy.”
Roxane’s brow furrowed, just as quickly lifting in realization when she became aware that her sister was right. “You are correct,” she declared. “He is not a lord. We are de Laras and therefore must marry well. Mayhap Father will convince Cousin Tate to find us wealthy husbands. Do you recall when we visited last Christmas and the fine men that were gathered at Carlisle?”
“You mean when you first beheld Kenneth St. Héver?”
“I do.”
“He is a mere knight, Roxy,” Cathlina said, somewhat gently, although she was thankful that Roxane was off Mathias’ scent. “He is not a lord. But I am sure there are many other men of standing that Cousin Tate can align us with.”
“I hope so,” Roxane said wistfully. “I am growing rather weary of kissing knights.”
Cathlina lifted an eyebrow at her. “You should not be kissing them at all.”
Roxane shrugged with a half-hearted attempt at defiance. “I do not kiss Dunstan anymore,” she said, “merely Beauson. I do believe Dunstan has a fondness for you so he is unresponsive to my charms as of late.”
Cathlina finished with the bridle. “Dunstan is a nice enough man, big and strong, but he is not what I would call a smart man,” she said. “Besides, he is too old. I am not interested in him as a romantic prospect. He will have to seek affection elsewhere.”
With that, Cathlina finished the last strap on the bridle and moved to secure the basket on the back of the saddle. Roxane assisted her and between the two of them, they managed to tie it down securely.
“Mayhap you should ask Dunstan or Beauson to escort you to town,” Roxane said. “It is a long ride to Brampton and there are dangers about. You know you should not go alone.”
Cathlina shook her head as she gathered her mare’s reins and turned to lead the horse from the stable. “I do not need an escort,” she said. “The ride to town will take an hour or two at the most. It is a fine day for travel and I shall return in good time.”
