Armored Hearts
continued to maneuver items in the cabinet.
    Gareth glared at the old man’s back. He couldn’t fly now; the man could turn to him any moment. “But I’d have to jump there.”
    “So?”
    “It’s not dignified.”
    Strong shrugged, closed the cabinet, and faced him. “Never be embarrassed about what you have to modify in order to function. I like your independent spirit. It will do you well. Your pride, on the other hand, is your greatest weakness and we need to get rid of it as soon as possible. Go to your chair the best you can.”
    Gareth narrowed his eyes at the man. He crossed his arms, stiffened his spine, and waited for him to bring his chair.
    Strong leaned against the cabinet doors. “I’m really not going to bring your chair to you. Don’t be ashamed. You were quite agile during swordplay. Just do the same back to your chair.”
    Instinct lead Gareth during the swordfight, but now he had returned to his faculties. How must he have looked as he jumped and hobbled about the room? He’d not give the tutor another display. He huffed. “Bring me my chair. That’s an order, and last I checked you were under my grandfather’s authority and so under mine. You don’t order me; I order you.”
    Mr. Strong sighed and lifted his hands in a gesture. “I suppose we are at an impasse. I’ll not do it.”
    The clock began the chime for the hour with the two men staring at each other. The tutor’s expression remained unchanged. His face held the same bored expression that Gareth constantly strove for. But one better. The man never broke eye contact and smirked throughout.
    When the clock’s chimes had finished, Gareth swallowed his pride and dropped his eyes. He hobbled and jumped his way to the chair. Heat rose on his neck, and he’d never felt so demoralized. He placed his lap blanket across his legs and started pushing himself toward the door.
    “Where are you going? We’ve not started your instruction for the day.”
    Gareth didn’t turn to face the man. He didn’t like being pressured to jump to his chair like some undignified wiggle worm. How could the old man say pride was Gareth’s greatest weakness? It wasn’t his pride. It was the stupid chair and his blasted legs that were his greatest weakness. Why couldn’t he will them to step and walk? It was obvious they were strong enough to support him. It wasn’t the old man’s place to embarrass him or tell him he needed to get over it.
    He opened the door and rolled down the ramp.
    “Lord Smyth!” Strong called from the doorway, “When you are over your ire, you need to return for further instruction or else you’ll never learn the claymore.”

Chapter 3
7 Years Later

    Gareth sat in the shade of the backyard, avoiding the sun and the scrutiny of the guests. Grandfather never hosted these sorts of gatherings and had always declined invitations. But now, he’d even hired a house staff for the day. Young ladies and gentlemen entertained themselves in his backyard. Some played badminton on the lawn, others sat at a card table.
    Tabitha’s cheeks were pink from running the badminton court. She shrieked and giggled as she hugged the dark-haired girl she was partnered with to keep from tripping. Both wore fashionable, white, corseted day dresses and hats.
    Grandfather had noticed Tabitha wasn’t being invited out into society enough to find a gentleman, so now society was invited to visit her. A last ditch effort to marry her off.
    The game broke up and the other team left the net. The dark-haired girl hugged Tabitha again and peered up at Gareth under thick, dark lashes. He thought for a minute she grinned at him. He ignored the idea, knowing better. The girls stepped away from the net and under the shade of a tree.
    ***
    Jessamine whispered into the ear of her new found friend, “Who is the young man in the shade there? The one watching us?”
    Tabitha glanced in the direction Jessamine nodded. “Oh that is Lord Smyth, Lord Pensees’s
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