Page 313 of Historical Hotties
Thor snorted softly. “I once told him that I did not think I would make a very good husband.”
“I remember.”
“Have I?” Thor turned to his father, tears suddenly in his eyes. “Have I been a good husband, Papa? A good father? I’ve so wanted to emulate you in everything. I hope I have made you proud. I know that I added Wylde to my name, to honor my wife’s family and the Tamworth line, and I have always been afraid that, secretly, that has disappointed you. Has it?”
Gage put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “Of course not,” he said. “You are simply making your own mark, creating your own dynasty. Some say that the measure of a man is upon the field of battle, or in the political arena. But I’ve come to think that the true measure of a man is how much he is loved by his family and friends. You took a broken woman and her equally broken children and created something fine and whole. Henrywas right when he said you deserved more than being a garrison commander for your father. He was right and I was wrong.”
Thor smiled weakly, wiping at the tears in his eyes. “I think we were both wrong,” he said. “I will have to name a son after him as penitence.”
“Wherever Henry is, I am certain that will please him.”
“So long as I please you, that is all I am concerned with.”
Gage gave Thor a squeeze, but Caledonia was calling to him, so he stood back as Thor joined his wife. He leaned over Jane, still holding the baby, as Caledonia pointed out a dimple on the baby’s chin.
Just like her father.
Those years ago, Gage had indeed been wrong when it came to fighting the idea of his son, his greatest son, marrying a widowed countess. He was grateful that he’d been wrong, because what Thor had with Caledonia was nothing short of magical. As Gage had said, Thor had taken a broken woman and her broken children and made something whole and wonderful out of them.
And they made something whole and wonderful out of him, too.
Thorington de Reyne-Wylde, Earl of Tamworth and Stafford, had turned out to be a remarkable warlord in his own right. He had indeed made his own mark by taking on his wife’s surname, bringing a Wylde streak to the Aragon mercenary and Visigoth blood that already flowed in his veins.
One Wylde knight, indeed.
And Gage couldn’t have been prouder.
*THE END*
