William was astounded. True, he had heard her sing once but it had been nothing like this. It was as if she was singing only to him the way her voice reached out and grabbed his attention, caressing his ears with its soft lilt and bell tones. He found himself leaning forward, propping his elbows on the table and pressing his mouth against folded hands. He could not take his eyes from her and he would have been content to listen to her sing for the rest of his days.
He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The earl commanded her to sing three more songs, only relenting when she begged to rest. He motioned her back to the table and poured her a sloppy glass of wine himself.
“You lied to me,” he accused gently. “Ye can indeed sing like the blessed virgin herself and do not deny it. You must sing for me every evening.”
She took a sip of wine to ease her strained throat. “My lord is most kind.”
The musicians were joined by two mummers wearing outrageously colored trappings and pointy hats that jingled merrily. As the mummers began to work the room, William leaned slightly in Jordan’s direction.
“You were magnificent,” he said quietly.
She nodded coolly to him, keeping her gaze averted. If he could compliment her, then he could tell her what had become of her cousin. An eternity of silence spread between them as the mummers joked and danced, and Jordan sat back in her chair with her wine in hand.
William’s chair was slightly forward and she could see his strong profile as he watched the crowd. Not the mummers or the musicians, but the crowd. She felt the urge to shock him, purely due to the fact that she was angry with him.
“I am to be punished with Lady Jemma,” she said loud enough for him to hear her.
He turned slowly. “What did you say?”
Their eyes met. “I said, I am to be punished with Lady Jemma. The earl said I gave him little choice in the matter.”
William’s eyes changed color before her, she swore it. One minute they were beautiful hazel-gold, the next they were dark and cloudy. His face held no notable expression as he stared at her a moment. She held her breath, waiting to see what he would do next.
It did not take long for him to rise from his chair and go around her, approaching the earl from the opposite side so their conversation would not be for her ears. She did not look at them but her ears were keenly tuned to the hum of their conversation, trying vainly to make out any word at all.
When the conversation was concluded, he returned and seated himself. She looked expectantly, trying not to appear fearful.
“Well?” she demanded quietly. “What will it be? Fifty lashes at dawn with the cat o’ nine tails?”
“Not for you, anyway,” he replied casually.
She sat forward so fast wine sloshed out of her cup. “What does that mean? Do ye mean to say ye will lash Jemma?”
“I will not discuss this with you,” he said coolly. “What the earl orders and what I carry out is none of your affair.”
Jordan felt an almost physical blow from his attitude. Swallowing hard, she sat back in the chair again and silently contemplated Jemma’s immediate future.
She was tired, too, compounding her raging emotions. She was sick of the musicians and she thought the mummers were stupid and she was glad they were not singing her praises or she just might throw something at them.
Over on the opposite side of the table, she could see that Analiese was rising, saying her goodnights to her brothers and asking permission from her father to retire. He granted her with a wave of his hairy hand.
“William will escort you.” He flipped his wrist in William’s direction.
Jordan thought twice before snubbing Analiese’s departure. Rising from her chair, she curtsied. “Good-sleep, Lady Analiese. And I do apologize for the turbulent evening.”
Analiese looked her up and down before replying. “You would do good to learn humility, Lady Jordan, and rid yourself of your Scot temperament.”
Jordan’s cheeks threatened to flush bright red but she merely bowed, doubly upset when she saw Analiese take William’s arm with obvious delight, speaking to him in cooing tones. She was suddenly so angry she wanted to rip out all of the girl’s stringy blond hair by the roots. The earl, not oblivious to his daughter’s rebuke, turned to her.
“I am sure you are weary as well,” he said. “Had I not had other pressing matters, I would escort you to your room myself. However, I must leave that to my son. He has asked to accompany you, with your permission.”
In a panic she thought he meant Alexander, but she was quickly relieved to see Adam stand and smile at her.
“Of course,” she replied. “He does me an honor, sire. And allow me to express my apologies again for my rudeness and for my cousin’s tongue.”
He looked at her a moment and she was not quite sure what he saw, he appeared almost distant. To her surprise, he reached out and took her hand.
“This will take…time, my lady,” he said softly, only to her. “I only ask that you have patience, as I must have. Then, I think, this can be a good thing. I hope so.”
He was sincere. She could see that he could indeed be gentle when he wished it so and she felt a little less apprehensive about her presence.
“As do I, sire,” she replied.
Adam was there, placing her arm on his forearm and leading her away with everyone in the room watching them.
Alexander remained seated at the long table even after everyone else had retired and the servants were scrubbing the stone floors of grease and bones. He was well into his wine, drunk as he usually was this late at night. His mood was dark.
So the Scot bitch had his father and brother captivated already. Thank God his sister saw through the facade and hated her for what she truly was; the enemy. Aye, she was indeed the enemy as he saw it, and he thought his father was an idiot to have agreed to the king’s contract. It would serve absolutely no purpose; the Scots would continue to kill and raid, the English would continue to fight and die. One small marriage between minor players in a great theater would not make a difference.
Alexander was sure of that, as he was also sure that only he was wise enough to see the situation for what it was; a charade. The marriage between the house of de Longley and the house of Scott was nothing more than a grand play staged by Henry himself.
Alexander took another gulp of wine, feeling the familiar heat wash down his throat. And the worst of it was that William seemed to be paying particular attention to the little slut. He was captivated by her, as all the males were. Except him, of course. The only people who entranced him were slim boys on the brink of adulthood and occasionally squires that would take a coin in exchange for their loss of innocence.
But then there was the captain himself, the majestic Wolf. Alexander snickered into his cup. Analiese fancied herself in love with the man. But so did Alexander. Strange thing that he and his sister were in love with the same man. Problem was that William paid neither one of them the attention he should beyond polite obedience, but by damn if he wasn’t acting like a dog in heat around the Scot bitch.
The thought of Lady Jordan Scott brought Alexander’s blood to a slow simmer. He could see he was going to have to do something about her. He could not have William’s attention so divided, it was bad enough competing with his sister, but with the added intrusion of the Scot….
He took a heavy gulp, draining the chalice. He wondered if William had bedded her yet.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jordan still had no idea what had happened to Jemma. She sat on the edge of the big bed swathed in her pale linen robe and nothing underneath. She was accustomed to sleeping nude, ever since she was a child. It was a habit she had never given any thought to until she had been forced to travel with the soldiers to Northwood. But this was not her home to parade around as she pleased; not yet, anyway. Somehow the robe provided a false sense of protection from the hostilities of Northwood.
She was tired but could not sleep. After brushing her hai
r thoroughly, she rose and went to the narrow window that faced the inner bailey and gazed down at the activity below. It was quiet with splashes of torchlight here and there, and she could see soldiers on both the outer and inner walls, walking their posts. A few even had dogs with them, dogs as big as she was. There was only a sliver moon above and the night had cooled dramatically.
A soft rap came upon the antechamber door. With her maids asleep in an adjoining smaller chamber, she assumed they had not heard it and went to answer the door herself. She was flooded with relief to see William until she remembered she was still angry with him.
“What is it ye want?” she asked coldly.
If he thought anything of her tone he did not let on. “I came to make sure you were well settled for the night.”
“I am,” she said curtly. “That is to say, I am but I know not how my cousin fares. Mayhap ye should go and ask her the same question.”
He pushed into the door and she jumped out of the way, startled at the swiftness and force of his action. The door slammed behind him and she heard the bolt slide through, even though he had continued to face her the entire time.
For a moment she doubted the wisdom of speaking rudely to him, but she would not back down. He glowered at her.
“That will be enough impertinence from you,” he told her in a low voice. “Your cousin is settled. For what she did tonight she is fortunate she is not on the rack.”
“She was defending me.” Jordan shot back. “Since no one else would, she filled the void. If she is punished, then I must be punished, too.”
He would not be pulled into her rage “Jemma has an unmanageable tongue and she must learn what she can and cannot say, especially if she is to be lady-in-waiting to a countess,” he said patiently. “You, fortunately, have more sense than she does, although your remarks tonight were highly questionable.”
“Oh!” Jordan shrieked furiously, spinning away from him and marching aimlessly toward the far windows. “And I suppose ye gave no thought to Alexander’s slanderous statement or Analiese’s insult. Ye are thinking that I am the only perpetrator here.”
He was silent a moment. She heard him sigh and heard what sounded like a blanket hit the chair when she realized it was his cloak.
“Come here,” he said.
“No,” she crossed her arms stiffly.
“It was not a request.”
She had learned to associate that tone with the calm before the storm. Slowly she turned, her face dark, but she still did not go to him.
“What do ye want?”
He did not reply but continued to look at her. Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she uncrossed her arms and stomped over to him. He sat back on the arm of the high-back cushioned chair and drew her between his massive legs.
“What I am thinking is that you still have a great deal to learn,” he said mildly. His face was inches from hers, but her head was lowered in a pout and he found himself talking to the top of her head. “I know how hard it was for you tonight and I’d say given the circumstances, you were remarkable. But Alexander and Analiese are two vicious pups, spoiled and pampered, and you must be mindful of them. Additionally, they are the earl’s children and Alexander is the heir, so if you want the rest of your life to be relatively peaceful, I suggest you learn to patiently deal with them.”
She was picking at her fingernails, pouting, her hands touching his chest. “Why dinna ye tell me he had children?”
“Because you had enough on your mind without worrying about step-children,” he said. He put his finger under her chin and lifted her to look at him. “I know you are made of much better things than they are, Jordan. Do not lower yourself to their level just to feel a small amount of satisfaction. I think the earl would like a wife with more dignity than that.”
He was so right. Her anger fled and her heart began to thump in her chest as their gazes locked. She was so close she could smell him, a clean smell of leather and lemons, more than likely from the soap he had used when cleaning up for dinner. Without even thinking she reached up to touch his cleanly shaven face, feeling the beginnings of coarse stubble beneath her fingertips. He was so, so beautiful.
“English,” she whispered. “Where is Jemma?”
“She is in the cellar,” he replied hoarsely. “She has a cot and I made sure she was given a hot meal. You will see her on the morrow.”
They fell silent again as her hands continued to explore his face, his hair, and finally the collar of his tunic. He thought he had died and gone to heaven, so soft and sweet was her touch.
“Will ye flog her?” she asked softly.
“Not if I have anything to say about it, and the earl usually listens to me,” he said honestly.
“But if ye had to, would ye flog me as well?” she persisted.
“No,” he said flatly. “I would not.”
“But the earl said….”
He cut her off. “The earl said that you gave him little choice in the matter, meaning he was not about to punish you so, therefore, he has second thoughts about punishing Jemma.”
She looked surprised. “He said that?”
“Aye.”
She lowered her gaze, noticing that she was now playing with the ties on the front of his tunic. A strange heat filled her arms and her belly, the same heat she had felt when he had kissed her. It was disarmingly wonderful and she wondered what in the world she was feeling. She’d never experienced those sensations before she had met William.
Mayhap it was the feeling of love, she thought. She felt as if to explode with her feelings as they built and built, loosening her tongue and filling her with uncharacteristic boldness.
“English?” she said.
“Aye?”
She looked up at him then, her eyes focusing on his soft lips and his beautiful eyes. “What would ye say if I told ye I fancied myself in love with ye?”
His smiled faded and his eyes widened. Jordan tried to gage his reaction but she was quickly becoming frightened. She had the most horrible fear that he was going to leave and never speak to her again. Sweet Jesu,’ what had she been thinking to confess that? Her boldness and her giddiness suddenly vanished and was replaced by utter humiliation. She felt his grip on her tighten.
“Do you realize what you are saying?” he rasped.
“Aye,” she replied uncertainly. She knew she must apologize for her rashness and tried to form the pretty words, but instead she slid in the opposite direction and found herself spilling out the rest of her admission. “Aye, I do, and I am sorry that ye dunna feel the same way. Ye have been so kind to me and I dunna want to make ye uncomfortable. I shouldna had said anything. I dunna know what possessed me.”
He looked completely incredulous and she was thoroughly confused. So far he hadn’t leaned one way or the other and she didn’t know what degree of embarrassment to succumb to. She wished he would let her go so she could throw herself out the window.
“Jordan… I am overwhelmed,” he said simply.
She pulled back from him, averting her gaze. “I can see that.”
He pulled her back to him earnestly. “ ’Tis not what those are thinking,” he hastened to reassure her. “ ’Tis not a question as to whether or not I love you, but you are to be the earl’s wife. I will not deceive him by carrying on with you.”
Stung, she pulled away from him and everything about the situation angered her. Damn him; she had not reached her conclusion without his help and encouragement.
“Ye already told me I had yer heart,” she said, agitated. “Ye have kissed me twice now, passionately I might add, and now ye stand here holding me as if I were yer own. Was I misinterpreting ye, English? I thought ye wanted me, which is why I….”
She broke off, confused and ashamed. William watched her, verging on an emotional tirade, but forced himself to calm. He ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture; of course he gave her that impression because it was the truth. He was being violently torn in two by his loy
alties to his liege and his feelings for her.
“I do want you,” he said quietly. “I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, but it has been wrong of me to mislead you, Jordan. I guess I am just a selfish man at heart. I suppose I simply wanted a taste of something that could never be, something that will stay in my memory for always.”
She wasn’t going to let him get away. She loved him and she wanted him, and even though she was compromising his integrity, she meant to have him. Her only hope was that he would not end up hating her and himself. He was already weakened by the sight of her; mayhap she could weaken him more. She’d never wanted anything in her life as much as she wanted him.
“I shall give ye more than a taste,” she whispered.
She was facing him a mere few feet away. He looked tired, defeated, and sad. Reaching up, she untied the sash that closed her robe, and in one swift movement, in one fragmented second, the robe was in a soft pile at the base of her very naked, very beautiful body.
William could only stare in open astonishment. She was absolutely perfect in every way. He knew his mouth was hanging open and he quickly closed it, knowing he had to get the hell out of the chamber or he would be a dead man. She was so willing and so naive, and it was too much to ask of him to be strong for the both of them. He bolted up from the arm of the chair and turned rapidly for the door.
“English?” Her voice reached him like a caress.
He stopped but he did not turn around. “What?”
“I dunna want ye to leave.”
“I must,” his voice was tight.
She walked over to him and embraced him, her front to his taut back. Her hands trailed up and down his massive arms.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 64
