The nooning meal came and went, and the weather was quite sticky for late August. Jordan’s thoughts kept drifting to the lovely little lake on the outskirts of the fortress and wished vehemently she could go for a swim. Physically, she was feeling perfect again and her strength had returned almost fully. Being a prisoner in her rooms were very nearly driving her insane and she felt from time to time she could literally climb the walls, anything to relieve the monotony.
Not only had her strength returned, but so had her devious little mind. It was harmless, really, but she could be quite manipulative. She eyed Ranulf where he stood by the windows, wondering if she could coerce him into letting her out for a swim. Had it been William standing there, she knew she could convince him to let her go. But Ranulf was crusty and coarse and she was unsure of herself with him. But, she must try. She was going insane in her rooms.
She straightened her dress and cocked a determined eyebrow; poor Ranulf was in for a test of wills.
“Sir Ranulf,” she began pleasantly. “What say ye to letting Jemma and I go for a walk?”
He frowned at her. “ ’Tis much too sticky, my lady.”
She strolled casually to him, hands clasped behind her back. When she got within a foot or so, she stopped and raised her chin quite firmly. “Not if the walk is to the lake so that we may go swimming.”
His bushy auburn brows rose. “Outside the gate? I think not, my lady.”
She continued to fix him with a firm stare. “But I wish it.”
Oh, lord, Ranulf thought. Here she goes. He had heard she was a strong-willed lass, but he had yet to see her display herself because of her weakened condition. Apparently she was feeling up to par, and he braced himself.
“Then I do apologize for denying your request,” he said. “But swimming is out of the question.”
“Why?”
Unlike the other younger knights, Ranulf had a little more control when it came to dealing with women. He would not fold as easily. Mayhap that was the wisdom of William’s choice in letting him remain behind to guard her.
“Because ’twould be too difficult to see to your safety, my lady,” he replied evenly.
“Then bring more men,” Jordan suggested. “ ’Twill make yer job much easier to have yer flanks covered, then ye can concentrate on me.”
He shook his head. “Nay, my lady, I must still refuse.”
She was not about to give up. She looked at him frankly. “I am going, anyway.”
He almost laughed at her boldness. “Nay, you are not,” he said. “William would have my head if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she replied seriously. “Therefore, I am going. Ye may come or ye may stay; ’tis all the same to me. Jemma?”
Jemma was grinning, up on her feet. She was ready to go. When Jordan turned away from Ranulf, she was amazed to see that he was in front of her again, barring the door. She was a little startled at the speed with which the man had moved.
“If I have to physically hold you down, I will,” he said in an easy, controlled voice. “Now, why do you not return to your loom and relax? This is an afternoon that begs for sleeping.”
Being firm with him hadn’t worked, she thought with frustration. She then decided to be a bully.
“Ye wunna dare tie me down, Ranulf Kluge.” she exclaimed threateningly. “If ye so much as lay a hand on me, I shall scream murder.”
He shrugged calmly. “If you so choose.”
She sighed heavily. So bullying would not work with the man, she quickly discovered. Then a light lit her scheming mind; mayhap trickery would. After all, the man was wearing half of his armor.
Surely she could outrun him, at least until she hit the lake. Then, after she was already wet, surely he could not deny her a brief, luxurious swim. ’Twas worth a try. If nothing else, she would get some much needed exercise.
Suddenly becoming the very model of an obedient woman, she sat in the high-back chair and folded her hands.
“Very well, Ranulf, I will comply,” she said with feigned resignation. “ ’Tis far too humid, as ye say, for the walk to the lake. I might exert myself. Would ye do me the favor of retrieving my petit poi? ’Tis by my bed, on the table.”
He nodded. “I am truly sorry, my lady. I am not trying to be cruel.”
“I know,” she said with a faked smile. “Ye are simply following orders.”
He nodded again and returned the smile. She almost felt bad that she was tricking him, but not that sorry. As soon as he disappeared into her bedchamber, she was up and running.
Jemma had no time to react at all. Jordan was flinging open the door only to find three startled soldiers staring at her. When one took a step toward her, she grabbed hold of his breastplate and pulled as hard as she could, standing aside quickly as he crashed hard through the open doorway. She reasoned that an obstacle would somehow slow Ranulf’s pursuit. She heard Jemma’s gleeful laugh as she raced for the stairs.
She could hear Ranulf cursing loudly, his bootfalls not far behind her. It had become a game and she had every intention of winning.
Jordan was deep into the stairwell when the herald trumpets sounded high atop the outer wall, announcing the approach of the Northwood’s army. She never heard it.
She hit the landing and gained speed, mindful of Ranulf’s footsteps on the stairs behind her. Her skirts were up around her thighs as she took the second flight of stairs like a runaway horse, hoping she would not fall and break her neck but thinking God would believe it suitable punishment for being so wicked.
Still, the game was fun and she was beginning to giggle as she ran. She tore in the grand foyer heading for the entry door of the keep. Fortunately for her, the doors were open because of the heat; she doubted she would have had time to stop and open them with Ranulf in hot pursuit.
When she plunged from the innards of the keep out into the steamy inner bailey, she considered herself halfway home. A quick glance over her shoulders showed Ranulf and two soldiers close behind. It was enough to give her a boost of adrenalin, and she pulled away from them with an exhilarated laugh.
It did not strike her as odd that both the inner and outer gates were open. She merely saw it as aiding her escape. The soldiers on the walls and in the compound were astonished to see a streak of blond hair and light blue silk rush by, obviously delighted that three men were in fast chase of her. Had she shown any hint of distress, she would have been aided by two hundred men, but they did not equate the loud laughter they heard with any sort of distress. It was enough to confuse them greatly.
Jordan was nearly to the outer gate. She could see the trees beyond and, past them, she knew was the lake. She also knew she could gain much needed ground in the grass because their heavy armor would weigh them down in the soft dirt. ’Twas enough to make her shout for joy. She could almost feel the coolness of the water lapping at her neck.
She was through the gates and across the moat. Much to her distress, she heard footfalls behind her almost simultaneously as her own and she knew that she had lost her edge. She was therefore not surprised, merely disappointed, to feel Ranulf’s thick arms snatch her about the mid-section.
They both went down on the grass, he more heavily than she as he broke their fall. Jordan struggled violently as he stood, hauling her up like a sack of grain. She didn’t want to go back. To be so close and then to be prevented was maddening.
She tried to pry his hands loose from her waist, wailing and kicking at him as he struggled to walk back up the slight incline they had fallen over. Her humor was still good in that she wasn’t trying to truly hurt him, only break free. She would alternately hang limp and become dead weight so he would have to shift his grip, and then instantaneously become a wild, twisting mass of hair and material.
Amidst all of the daft tussling and pleading on her part, she heard him laughing a deep, throaty laugh. Not loud, but she heard it. It made her smile too, but she didn’t give up.
At least
, she didn’t stop her struggles until both she and Ranulf heard a shout in the distance. She froze, hair hanging wildly in her face, stunned to see the advance of Northwood’s army coming down the road. Ranulf stopped, clutching her with both arms to his hip and gazing appreciatively at the sight of the troops.
Jordan’s mouth formed an unconscious “O” when she saw a knight split away from the company and ride toward them with breakneck speed. She knew it was William because she recognized the charger. And she furthermore knew she was in deep trouble. Her initial delight when she had seen the incoming company was quickly turning into overwhelming apprehension.
The ground shook with the thundering hooves of the gray destrier and Jordan was so stunned she could not even push the hair from her eyes. All she could do was watch as the massive figure on the massive charger approached.
When he reined his animal to a halt, it was with great clouds of dust and rattling armor. The horse continued to dance excitedly as William looked down at the two of them, his visor down so she could not see his face. It was several long seconds before anyone spoke.
“I do not think I want to know what is going on here,” William said with an even voice. “But, for curiosity’s sake, enlighten me, Ranulf. Why was Lady Jordan running like the wind?”
Ranulf sounded steady and calm. “She was attempting to escape, my lord, for the coolness of the lake, which I had denied her.”
A simple explanation. Jordan was thankful he did not use words like ‘lie’ and ‘deceive.’ They still could not see William’s face.
“Then you are saying, in essence, that she was disobeying you?” he asked.
Ranulf hesitated a split second. “Aye, my lord.”
The helmet bobbed in a faint nod. He was silent for a few moments and Jordan knew he was contemplating her punishment. She hoped, for Ranulf’s sake, that he would not be blamed. She was prepared to staunchly defend him, even at the risk of a greater wrath.
Finally, William extended a huge gloved hand. “Give her to me.”
Ranulf put her feet on the ground and steered her over to William’s horse, lifting her into the waiting arms. She ended up facing William in the saddle, so glad to see him but scared out of her wits that he was going to take a stick to her for her disobedience.
The rest of the army had caught up and the herald trumpets sounded again. Peasants and servants alike had begun the familiar chant welcoming William home again. The eerie howling didn’t frighten her as it had the first time she had heard it and she felt a strong sense of pride in her William. Wolf, they cried. But she dare not say a word until he did.
The arm that gripped her was tight and unmoving. When his destrier came to an unsteady halt in the outer bailey, he dismounted and pulled her down with him. He flipped up his visor and bellowed orders to Paris before turning swiftly and half-dragging her across two baileys until they were enfolded by the welcoming dimness of the castle.
She stumbled on the stairs and he turned to pick her up, still not uttering a word. She held onto his neck, looking remorsefully at his eyes which were the only thing visible through the open visor. He didn’t look at her.
He reached her chambers, barking at the soldiers to clear the way and then snapping at Jemma to get out. Once he took her into her bedchamber, he slammed the door so hard it knocked a cup off the table next to her bed.
William put her down and she instinctively backed away, watching him unlatch his helmet and rip it off. It sailed, spinning, into the nearest wall.
When he did look at her, his eyes were dark with fury. “Would you mind telling me just why in the hell you were disobeying Ranulf?”
She began to shake. “He told ye, William. I wanted to swim and he had denied me, so…so I ran from him.”
His nostrils flared. “I told you to obey him without question. Is this how you define obey? By being as unruly as a young child? Damnation, you have no idea of the danger you are in here, do you? Of the people who would like nothing better than to see you bleed Scot tartan all over the ground and then rejoice for it? I do not leave orders to restrict you, Jordan, I do it to protect you. But I need your cooperation.”
Her mouth was hanging open in genuine regret. She knew all that he said was true. Lowering her head, for she could no longer look him in the eye, she turned her back on him and broke into quiet sobs.
He cursed in earnest, but it all came out as a long hiss. “Do not do that. I do not like it when you cry.”
She answered him by sobbing louder and he knew she was hurt. But he was infuriated with her. He had to be firm and not take her in his arms and soothe her as he wanted so desperately to do. She had to learn a lesson.
He watched her, her gently heaving shoulders. To say he had been surprised when he saw her bolting from the gates of Northwood would have been an understatement. He was about to sound the battle cry when he saw that it was Ranulf, and a few soldiers, who chased her. But his initial fear had turned into bone-grinding anger by that point and wondered what in the bloody hell sort of game they were playing. His anger was not directed at his knight, however, he knew how persuasive and stubborn she could be.
He forced himself to cool, and with each breath he took he inhaled her lavender scent and it calmed him more. He had missed her terribly and was sorry that the first words from his mouth had to be harsh ones.
It wasn’t long before he was willing to forget everything and throw her down on the bed and make love to her. She looked so damned good to him, so healthy and vital.
“Jordan,” he said with quiet firmness. “Look at me now.”
She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, turning dutifully as requested. Her pink-flushed face was so lovely and pitiful that he had to clasp his hand behind his back to keep from pulling her to him.
“Do you understand what I am saying?” he asked pointedly, but gentler. “Everything I do, I do to keep you safe and free from harm. You must help me accomplish this.”
She nodded, her lower lip trembling. “I wasna thinking,” she whispered. “I simply wanted to swim.”
He gazed down at her, hoping she indeed understood what he was saying. But enough was said. He fought off the natural instinct to enclose her in his arms because he wanted her to know just how deadly serious he was. She had placed herself in jeopardy and if he were to turn soft now it would probably ruin all that he was striving for to make her understand her position here at Northwood. He hated being strict with her for any reason, but in this case he must or the consequences could be severe.
“I must go,” he said after long moments.
When he turned for the door, she called out softly. “Will I see ye later?”
He paused and turned. Her face was upturned to him and he wanted to kiss every tear from it. He felt himself weakening.
“Aye, you will, you know that.”
He blew out, closing the door much softer that he had opened it. She stared at the door before sagging onto the bed, emotionally spent.
Welcome home, William, she thought dully.
*
She supped with Jemma later that night and went to bed early. She didn’t want to listen to Jemma complain that Kieran had not yet come to see her. Hell, she didn’t want to do anything but sleep and forget this day ever happened.
She thought she was dreaming. Something was tickling her neck, calling her name softly. She tried to bat it away, burying her face deeper in her pillow, but it was quite persistent. She gradually became aware when she realized she was slapping at a hand, gently touching her face.
She rolled on to her back, knowing it was William even before she saw his face in the dimness. Light from the full moon streamed in through her open windows. The oil cloths were pulled back to allow for ventilation in the humidity. The entire room was cast in a soft silver light as she smiled sleepily up at him.
“ ’Tis late, English,” she remarked.
“Aye,” he answered, leaning over with his arms braced on either side of her body. His face was gentle and s
weet, nothing like the enraged man she had seen this afternoon.
She promptly rolled away from him and hugged her pillow. “I wish to go back to sleep now,” she said, feigning disinterest in his presence.
“Like hell,” he growled and rolled her back over, falling into bed beside her.
She giggled with delight, snuggling against him with great contentment. He held her tightly, kissing the top of her head or any other bit of flesh that was close to his lips.
“The last time I saw you, you were pitifully weak,” he said. “Who was that wild woman I saw running from the bailey today like she had never seen a sick day in her life?”
She groaned and buried her face in his tunic. “Did ye have to bring that up again?”
He chuckled. “I take it, then, you are feeling better?”
She was wide awake now, her movements energetic and quick. She snapped her head up to look at him, her hair askew and a twinkle in her eye. “Aye, that I am. I have been going insane the past few days staring at these walls. Now that ye’re back, can I go outside more often?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “We shall see,” he said. His mind turned to Analiese. He had been surprised to learn from Ranulf that no one as much as even approached Lady Jordan’s door. He had expected an attempt of some kind in his absence.
Jordan was leaning on his chest looking down at him. He lay on his back, his arm tucked behind his head.
“Oh, English, dunna make me beg,” she pouted. “I want to go outside and live as normally as I can, I canna holed up here in my rooms while the world goes on about me. What will happen after I become countess and certain things are expected of me? I canna stay a prisoner forever.”
He ignored all of her statements except one. “I want to see you beg.”
She caught the flash of passion in his eyes and she was lost. A smile crept onto her lips and before she realized it, she was kissing him with intense desire. She had been cooped up for days, pacing and worrying. Her energy, much to his delight, was finally finding a release.
Jordan always slept in the nude, so the only matter of concern at the moment was removing William’s breeches and tunic. It was an agonizingly wonderful process he was to discover; with every stay that was released, she would kiss the exposed skin underneath. When she finally removed his tunic, she proceeded to drag her mouth all over his chest until he thought he might die from the sheer pleasure of it.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 73
