Mattie’s laughter grew. “I had other things on my mind, Gar,” she said. “Burning those terrible breeches was not among them.”
“Terrible?Youmade them for me.”
“An action I sorely regret, as I’ve told you.”
He scowled at her, but he didn’t mean it. “So long as you did not do anything to them,” he said threateningly. But he caught Caria snickering and he frowned at her. “And you—I’m curious to know how you intend to keep me here should I desire to leave.”
Caria’s answer was to rush over to the bed and lie across his legs. She giggled uncontrollably as the dog jumped on the bed and licked her in the face before moving over to Gar and licking him in the face, too. Gar found himself petting the dog, who was now incredibly friendly, as Caria was repeatedly hit in the face by the wagging tail.
All of it, joyful chaos.
And it was a moment he would remember for the rest of his life.
Eventually, Jordan did bring William to Gar’s chamber so that William could see for himself that his grandson was going to recover. Troy wasn’t far behind him, as were Andreas, Reed, Corey, and a host of other de Wolfe cousins, uncles, andrelatives, all of them crowding into that large chamber, all of them having the opportunity to speak to Gar, shake his hand, or hug him. That young, capable knight who had worked so hard against a common enemy, who had fought the good fight, and who was now on the road to recovery.
In the weeks to follow, Maksim was escorted home by Gar, when he was well enough to move, as well as William and twelve more de Wolfe knights. Mattie was among the escort, too, informing her parents of Maksim’s valiant deeds and ultimate sacrifice, and stood beside them as their only son was buried in the family chapel. As difficult as it was for the de Reyne family, they took comfort in Maksim’s heroic last actions. They took even more comfort when, eleven months later, Mattie delivered a healthy son.
A son she named Maksim.
Unfortunately, William did not live to see his great-grandson born, but Gar felt his presence that night. He was in Jordan’s very existence, in his son’s first cries, and in the love that Gar had for his wife. William de Wolfe, a knight of legend, was in every touch, every breath, every word his family spoke, in that moment and every moment thereafter. But when it came down to William’s final moments on earth, on a warm August night with his family all around him, Kieran’s words came to ring true.
If you want to fight, then fight. But if you want to rest, then rest. You have earned the right to choose. Do not let others do it for you.
In the end, William didn’t. He chose for himself.
And that was the way he wanted it.
EPILOGUE
Ten years later
Castle Questing
He couldn’t getthem off the crypts.
Gar had offered to take his sons outside into the sunshine, affording his pregnant wife some time to rest, but the boys were much different under their father’s control than under their mother’s. Five young lads, all of them lively and full of life, and once their father took them outside, they ran straight to the chapel at Castle Questing because it was a place with things to climb on.
And that was what they were doing.
Climbing.
They reminded Gar very much of him and his own brothers when they were younger, and Troy laughed every time he saw Gar trying to control his gang of ruffians—and he especially laughed on this night when he went on the hunt for Gar because no one had seen him in a while. Wandering out into the bailey, he followed the sounds of the shouting children to find Garsitting on a bench that had been installed in the chapel, watching his children hide from one another.
“There you are,” Troy said. “Your wife was wondering where you were.”
Gar grinned as he looked up at his father. “Here,” he said, gesturing to the boys. “They wanted to visit Poppy and Matha, so here we are.”
Troy sat down next to Gar, watching Mak, Keith, Milo, Jasper, and Oliver chase each other around the crypts. They were all dark-haired, all in the image of their father, except for Oliver, who very much favored his mother. Still, they were a wild bunch that had exhausted their mother’s old dog so much that Winchester had gone back to Hensingham Castle to live out his elder years in peace with Mattie’s parents.
Peace was certainly nothing he’d get at Gleann na Fola these days.
“This is exactly where they need to be,” Troy said, eyeing his mother’s new crypt. The grief of her recent passing was still fresh for the family. “Matha should see what wild animals her Scots blood has created. They are only like this because of her.”
Gar started laughing. “But Mama is Scots, too,” he said. “It cannot all be Matha’s fault.”
Troy shrugged. “I tend to disagree,” he said. “Speaking of disagreement, I see you’re wearing those patchwork breeches again and I heard that your wife told you not to. Well?”
Gar was still grinning as he looked down at the breeches that had become a legend in his family. “I wear them at every wedding, and proudly so,” he said. “Mattie made these for me when we first met and I wore them at our wedding. They bring good fortune. I’ll tell you what I told her—I am bringing good fortune to the new couple by wearing them to their celebration.”
