“What things?”
William put his hand on Gar’s shoulder. “Come,” he said. “Let us speak. You must be weary from your travels, so let us become comfortable.”
With a lingering glance at Mattie, Gar did as he was told. Following his grandfather over to the nearest table, he sat down amongst his family members and others who had joined the group, men who were more than happy to pour him cups of wine and cheer his marriage. Of all the things he thought hewould feel when he returned home from Hensingham, a sense of pleasure wasn’t among them. Even happiness. Was he happy? Not strangely, he was. He’d been happy since the day he married Mattie. Joy the likes of which he’d never felt in his life. It was unrecognizable in his world.
But welcome.
Very welcome.
Gar was glad to be home…
With her.
*
“Well? What’s wrong?”
The question came from Troy. He’d found his wife out in the bailey, standing next to the fortified carriage that bore the de Reyne colors of blue and black. She was just standing there as the business of the bailey went on around her, as if nothing else in the world existed at the moment.
She was lost in thought.
But Rhoswyn’s head came up when she heard Troy’s question. She’d suspected he might come after her, and she really hadn’t wanted him to, but her thoughts of finding a quiet place to cool her jumbled emotions faded away when she saw the carriage that had brought Gar’s wife.
Now, she could think of nothing else.
“Why should anything be wrong?” she replied after a moment. “Everything is just as ye want it.”
Troy pursed his lips wryly as he came up behind her. “You seem to have wanted it yourself until now,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”
Rhoswyn knew it wouldn’t do any good to avoid him. Troy was sharp. They’d been together for so long that she didn’teven know where she ended and he began. It was a symbiotic relationship that few couples had.
After a moment, she shook her head.
“She’s perfect,” she said quietly. “Perfect and pretty.”
“She is,” Troy said. “And Gar is quite obsessed with her, so if you do not like the girl, keep it to yourself.”
Rhoswyn sighed heavily, leaning against the carriage. “I dunna know her enough tae like her or dislike her,” she said. “All I can see is a pretty, perfect English lass for my son.”
Troy leaned against the carriage also, standing just a few inches from her and watching her lowered head. His Rhoswyn, a warrior in her own right, Scottish to the bone. He suspected what the problem was.
“I know you wanted a clan chief’s daughter for him,” he said softly. “But Gar is English. He serves the English. Papa and I discussed this at length and it is better that he marry an Englishwoman who can bring an alliance with her. It will be better for him in the end.”
“Why?” Rhoswyn said, her head coming up to look at him. “I have never understood why ye thought an English wife would be better. He could have done so much good for the Lowlanders, Troy. For my people, for my father’s allies. He could have made a difference.”
“Did Red Keith put you onto this line of thinking?”
Rhoswyn shook her head. “Of course not,” she said. “My father was glad Gar was marrying, no matter who it was. He said that a lad that beauteous needed tae find a wife in a hurry before he realized how women reacted to him and became a rake.”
Troy snorted. “That sounds like something your father would say.”
“I just wanted Gar tae have a wife who would value him.”
Troy frowned. “And what makes you think Mattie will not?”
Rhoswyn shrugged. “Because she’s pretty and perfect,” she said, repeating what she’d said before. “Lasses like that only care about themselves. They will expect their husbands tae fall at their feet. Gar doesna need a wife like that.”
Troy cupped her face with a big hand. “I think you are worrying needlessly,” he said. “I think you must come to know Mattie yourself before you can make any judgment about her. Don’t you?”
