“Pah,” Reece said angrily. “She is being positively foolish and I’ll not stand for it. My wife is with her now, trying to talk some sense into her. Thisshallbe resolved, Lord Braemoor. Everyone becomes nervous before a wedding… don’t they?”
“They do,” Troy said. “I was. So was Andreas. In fact, let me leave you with Andreas and I shall seek out Gar to see if he might have said something to upset the lady.”
He was already standing up, not giving Reece an opportunity to stop him. He knew why the young woman had suddenly changed her mind and he was going to seek the cause. He didn’t know why Gar would have had the opportunity to speak with the young woman, especially without a chaperone, so whatever happened must have been clandestine on Gar’s part.
The man wanted out of the marriage so badly that he’d done something questionable.
Truthfully, Troy was angry because Gar’s behavior earlier had led him to believe that Gar had perhaps changed his mind. He’d asked for a bath and that had lured Troy into a false sense of hope. He trusted his son’s word, but he didn’t trust it now.
Things were about to get ugly.
He knew that Maksim de Reyne had taken Gar to the knights’ quarters. He’d known that from the start, when they’d arrived and Maksim had led Gar away, so he could only assume that Gar was still there. His possessions had also been taken there, sincemen didn’t usually stay in the residence of their host unless there were no single women present. Therefore, his destination was the knights’ quarters—and if Gar wasn’t there, he’d hunt him down like prey.
He was going to get to the bottom of this.
As he stormed toward the door, Gar was just coming out. He was wearing a clean tunic, his boots, and pale patchwork breeches that Troy had never seen before. Truthfully, he’d never seen the man in breeches that weren’t leather, finely tanned, and shockingly expensive, and that included the pair he’d worn into the ground that more than likely had to be removed with a chisel today before he bathed. As Gar exited, Troy noticed that Maksim was right behind him, but Troy was focused on Gar.
He thrust a finger at him.
“You,” he growled. “I must have a word with you.”
Gar came to a halt, looking at his father with something close to fear in his eyes. Not quite, but almost. Without delay, he threw up his hands.
“I know,” he said. “Papa, I know why you are here. I was just discussing it with Maksim. I—”
Troy marched right up on Gar and grabbed him by the front of his tunic. Gar was bigger than his father, and heavier, but Troy’s rage fed his strength and he ended up yanking Gar over to the exact area where his son and Mattie had indulged in their earlier conversation. As Maksim stood back, eyebrows lifted, wondering if he should try to help Gar, Troy let go of his son and got in his face.
“What have you done?” he spat. “You told de Reyne’s daughter something, didn’t you? Somehow, you had a conversation with her and now she is telling her father that she no longer wishes to marry you.”
Troy, out of all the sons of William de Wolfe, with the exception of the youngest son, Thomas, was quickest to temper.He was well known for raging first, being rational second. It was a trait that Gar and his siblings were terrified of growing up and, truthfully, he was still terrified of it. When Troy was angry, the safest thing to do was run away. But Gar couldn’t run away.
He was stuck.
“She came here to apologize for the damage her dog had done,” he said, trying not to speak quickly out of sheer panic. “She offered to repair my breeches.”
Troy frowned. “What damage?” he said. “What dog?”
Gar gestured in Maksim’s direction. “Maks saw it,” he said. “When he was bringing me to the knights’ quarters so I could bathe, the lady’s dog attacked me from behind and tore my breeches to pieces.”
Maksim forced himself to step forward in support of Gar’s statement. “It is true, my lord,” he said. “My sister’s dog tore Gar’s breeches and she came to apologize and offer remediation.”
Troy stepped back from Gar, looking between the two knights. “So shedidcome here,” he said as his focus settled on Gar. “And you had a conversation with her.”
Gar nodded quickly. “I did,” he said. “I told her she did not have to repair the breeches, as they were beyond hope, so she made these for me.”
He was indicating the patchwork breeches he was wearing. Big pieces of linen had been stitched together. The breeches weren’t exactly fitted, but bigger and baggier. Troy peered at them, seeing that they were stitched with yellow silk thread. They were well made. The least bit puzzled, he shook his head.
“She did that?” he said, somewhat calmer. “That was quite generous of her.”
“I know,” Gar said. “I told her so.”
“Then why is she telling her father that she does not wish to marry you?”
Gar hesitated. “I told her about life on the border,” he said. “We had a conversation about it.”
“And?”
Gar took a deep breath. “Papa, you should know that the lady is quite refined,” he said. “She speaks several languages. She is very accomplished in all things that young ladies should be accomplished in and having a husband like me is an insult to such a woman. I am a knight. That is all I am. She deserves better.”
