“I will take her with me when I see to the army,” he said quietly. “I have a feeling that seeing Gar’s wife will help spur on the men. They are already seeking vengeance for Gar. Now, they’ll seek it for Mattie.”
“Ye’re not riding with them, are ye?” Jordan asked, but it really wasn’t a question. It was a directive. “I’ll need ye here, English. We have much tae do with Gar.”
William’s gaze found his wife across the bed. “I am riding with them,” he said softly. “But not for the reason you think. The younger men can do the fighting. But this is a highly sensitive and political action and I must be there to ensure nothinghappens that could ignite the border into a larger war. With Edward having difficulty with the Scots, and a failed alliance with the German king, our actions against Westerkirk may have farther-reaching implications. I know you understand that.”
Jordan’s gaze was locked on William. “Ye dunna need tae bear a sword,” she said, clearly unhappy. “But if ye simply intend tae manage the situation, then I have no quarrel with ye.”
This was usual with them. William didn’t need her permission to do his duty and they both knew it, but he didn’t want her fighting him on it. An agreement from her was as good as permission. It was a dance they’d danced many times over the decades, especially as he grew older but still wanted to ride to battle.
She thought he was too old.
He didn’t.
“I am simply going to watch the situation,” William confirmed. “And I am going to watch the overly emotional brothers of Gar to ensure no one becomes a danger to himself. Grief can breed recklessness.”
That made sense. The family was having a difficult enough time with Gar’s injury. They didn’t need another young de Wolfe knight falling. As Jordan nodded in resignation and returned her attention to Gar, William made his way over to Mattie.
Somehow, she looked so small and pale sitting in that chair. There was another chair next to the hearth and he sat in that one, facing Mattie. She gazed back at him with an expression somewhere between anguish and fear.
William smiled faintly.
“I have need of you, my lady,” he said.
Mattie sat up straight. “You only need tell me, my lord.”
William glanced at the windows that overlooked the west side of the castle. Although he couldn’t see anything, he couldstill imagine the view from that window, a view of a big army that was forming below.
“Many men have come to punish those who hurt Gar and killed your brother,” he said. “If I’ve not expressed my sincere sadness at Maksim’s passing, please allow me to do so. He was a fine knight.”
Mattie’s eyes filled with tears. “He was,” she said. “He so wanted to belong to the House of de Wolfe. He envied the closeness the knights had, the camaraderie, and he just wanted to be part of it.”
“And he was,” William assured her. “He was a fine addition, and he died doing something very heroic. If it had not been for his alarm, the castle breach could have been so much worse. His actions saved many people, Mattie. That is what I will tell your father, if you will let me.”
Mattie nodded, blinking, and the tears spattered. “I would appreciate that,” she said. “I have been wondering how I am going to tell my parents.”
“I will do it,” William said. “But first, I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything, my lord.”
William held out a hand to her. “Go outside with me and see to the forming of the army,” he said. “The men know you are Gar’s wife. They also know you are Maksim’s sister. Let them see you as a tribute to both men. Let them see what they are fighting for. It will inspire them.”
Taking a deep breath for courage, Mattie took William’s hand and as he stood up, he gently pulled her to her feet. She was wiping the tears away as he led her to the door, his final glance toward the bed showing that Paris was already starting to remove the stitches that Jordan and Scott had so carefully put in. He was removing Mattie just in time.
She didn’t need to see that.
Leading her down the stairs that ended in the great hall, William found himself trying to tamp down his own anger at what had happened. He was usually quite levelheaded about critical situations, but every time he looked at Mattie’s lowered head, he started to feel rage all over again.
But this time, it was at himself.
This was his fault.
He was the one who had insisted on the marriage. He’d bullied Gar into it. He knew he had, but he’d justified his actions by telling himself that this was a necessary alliance. It was necessary for Gar to marry well. Fortunately, Gar had seemed pleased with the marriage, only to be cut down trying to protect his grandfather, who didn’t have the sense not to engage men half his age in battle.
Aye, that was his fault, too.
He knew that.
William found himself praying that he hadn’t created this marriage only to see it end in tragedy. He wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he had.
