“It was not a long ride and the day was fine.”
Now both eyebrows lifted in a mixture of concern and disapproval. “It is not safe for a lady to travel alone,” he said as mildly as he could. “Does your father know you have come?”
“He does not.”
Mathias wasn’t sure what to say to that, but one thing was for certain; he was very flattered that she should risk her personal safety to deliver what she considered a reward for assisting her. In fact, he was rather stunned.
“Would you allow me to escort you home, then?” he asked softly. “I cannot allow you to return home unattended now that I know you have no escort. I hope you understand.”
“It is truly not necessary. I can find my own way home.”
“I am sorry, but I must insist. If you will not give me permission to escort you, then know that I will follow you all of the way home to ensure you do not run into any trouble. I can either ride with you or as your shadow. It is your choice.”
Cathlina very nearly refused him again but she quickly realized that if he escorted her home, they would have more of a chance to talk. Perhaps she could come to know him better. Clearly, she was attracted to the man. Now that she had seen him again, it served to reinforce her initial opinion of him. He was handsome, gentle mannered, and undoubtedly brave. There was much to be attracted to.
Unlike her sister, Cathlina didn’t particularly care if he was a lord or not. Roxanne was the one with lofty goals. Cathlina had, since she could recall, merely wanted a man she liked a great deal no matter what status he held in life. She’d heard of many lords who were selfish, vain, and immoral. Being a lord didn’t mean one was automatically of good character. Cathlina would rather have good character and love over wealth and status. The man in front of her was of good character. She could sense it.
“Very well,” she said after a moment’s deliberation. “I would be honored with your company. Are you certain you can spare the time?”
Mathias looked around the stall, at the big charger he needed to finish. Taking the basket in one hand and the lady by the other, he gently escorted her over to a stool near the wall and helped her to sit. He set the basket down next to her.
“I must finish with this Son of Lucifer,” he said, throwing a thumb in the direction of the big black charger. “When I am finished, I will be happy to escort you home. Is that acceptable?”
“It is.”
Their eyes met, brown against green, and for a moment, the pull between them was stronger than they could grasp. It was difficult to describe, this attraction between two people who had no expectations or obligations to their brief association. Up until a few minutes ago, all Mathias knew of the Lady Cathlina de Lara was that she was incredibly beautiful but, unfortunately, she was also a de Lara. He had warned his brother against her. Now, he was not so apt to heed his own warning. There was something about the woman that was very, very special. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her because she muddled his mind. She was bewitching. He finally had to force himself away.
“I will not be long,” he said as he made his way back over to the horse, who tried to bite him. He frowned at the animal. “These animals are sometimes quite difficult to handle for those they are not familiar with.”
Cathlina watched him with interest as he pulled another red-hot shoe out of the fire and began hammering at it.
“It is a very big horse,” she said. “A war horse?”
Mathias nodded as he pounded. “This nasty boy has seen several battles.”
Cathlina eyed the scarred horse. “We saw several knights in town yesterday when we arrived,” she said. “My father says there is to be a tournament in a few days.”
Mathias nodded as he put the shoe back into the fire. “So it would seem.”
Cathlina studied the man as he stirred the fire. He was wearing leather breeches and a leather apron, and a rather worn linen tunic that in greater days had probably been a bright shade of red. It was very worn and the neckline was torn just enough so she could see portions of his muscular chest. The man had the biggest arms she had ever seen, muscular to a fault, and his chest seemed to match that particular pattern. She’d never thought much about men’s chests before but in peeking at Mathias’, she thought his rather attractive. The man was purely big and beautiful, and her cheeks began to flush. She averted her gaze and sought to divert her innately passionate thoughts.
“Where… where were you born, Mathias?” she asked, struggling to think on something else to speak of.
He continued to stoke the fire, his face and body riddled with lusty, oozy sweat, causing his inky hair to kink up in small curls around his neck.
“Throston Castle in Northumbria,” he said. “It is near the eastern coast.”
“I see,” Cathlina said, cocking her head as she tried to imagine where he was from. “You must have learned your trade from a very young age. Did you ever think to become anything other than a smithy?”
He pulled the red-hot shoe out of the fire again and set it on the anvil. He didn’t want to tell her his deepest, darkest secret for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that she was a de Lara. Therefore, for all she knew, he was what she saw: a smithy. There was no reason to tell her any differently because it would have been far too complicated to explain anyway, and itmight possibly frighten her away. He didn’t want to frighten her away.
“Like what?” he asked, glancing up at her with a twinkle in his eye. “A farmer? A sailor?”
Cathlina took the question seriously. “You are big and brave and intelligent,” she said. “Perhaps you could have found someone to sponsor you as a page or squire at a young age. You could have been a fighting man. You said you were born at Throston Castle? Who is the lord at Throston?”
My grandfather,he thought. They were heading deeper into a subject he wanted to avoid. He pounded on the shoe.
“An old man by the name of Lenox,” he replied, then shifted the course of questions back onto her and away from secrets he did not wish to divulge. “Your father is a knight, is he not? Allied with the Earl of Carlisle, you said?”
