“She needed this one,” Jordan insisted softly. “It seems that Analiese is very threatened by me. She has had the attention of all of the menfolk here at Northwood for so long that when I came, she was naturally jealous. ’Tis why she has been so mean to me. And then tonight when I came into the hall with my fashionable dress, she felt very plain and ugly. So I gave her the dress to make her feel better.”
His eyes turned soft. “Is that why you are wearing this…this monstrosity?”
“Aye,” she gazed down at her dress.
“Then you will go to your rooms and change at once,” he said firmly.
“Nay, English,” she said resolutely. “I canna. Dunna ye see? I have to wear this dress. If I were to change it, it would insult Analiese. When I wear it and everyone says how lovely I look, she can tell them that it is her dress. But mayhap ye dunna understand a woman’s pride. ’Tis important that I keep it on.”
They stopped and he faced her, gazing at her so warmly and lovingly that she felt her insides go to jelly. She always found it hard to breathe when he looked at her this way.
“You are the kindest woman, my lady,” he said softly. “Simply to make plain Analiese beautiful you would risk looking less than tasteful so that you do not outshine her.”
“Then ye do understand a woman’s pride,” she smiled.
He wiggled his brows. “That may be the only thing I understand about women,” he confessed. “But I know one thing; that I do love you.”
She blushed, wishing he could take her in his arms. “I love ye, too, English.”
He didn’t dare touch her any more than he was already doing, her hand on his forearm, but he was aching to draw her against him. With a sigh only she heard, they turned back for the party.
Back inside the hall, Jordan resumed her place in the receiving line with a gentle smile to Analiese. The earl caught the expression and turned his questioning gaze on Jordan as she returned beside him.
“Everything is…all right, my lady?” he asked hesitantly.
“Aye, sire, everything will be fine,” she replied happily. “I am quite enjoying the party.”
He nodded, uncertainty and amazement filling his eyes. He kept glancing from Jordan to Analiese and back again, shaking his head. Jordan, for her part, felt as if a gigantic weight had been lifted for her and she felt quite free to enjoy herself.
Behind the family, a line of knights had taken up station. William, Paris, Deinwald, Kieran, Michael and Lewis stood silent and grim-faced as dozens of well-wishers filed by. Originally it had only been William, Paris and Kieran, and when the others joined, William made a point of casually moving next to Michael.
“Who in the hell is in command, de Bocage?” he demanded quietly.
“Ranulf has command of the castle, along with Captain Brockenhurst from Deauxville Mount,” he whispered back. “Marc and Corin are roving the walls and outlying areas, assisted by the captains of Northumbria and Hawkgrove. Viscount Wereford, the son of Cumberland, and Jason have command of the loft and the room.”
William nodded, glancing up the loft. It was a balcony that encircled the entire hall, flying several family banners and now lined with soldiers of all different houses. At the very near point of the balcony, almost directly over the dais, flew the banner of the clan Scott. He took another look at it, thinking that in this time of peace it was not particularly peaceful. It was a four-point shield on a background of Scott tartan, green, orange, white and black. The design on the shield was simple, a head stuck on the end of an upraised sword; the sword gloriously decorated with jewels and the Scot crown.
He turned away from it, hoping no one would comment at the gory crest, considering the entire purpose of the party was a peaceful one. His mind focused back to the festivities, the people, and several allied soldiers helping themselves to the food tables.
He elbowed Paris. “All the rest of the captains and officers are bloody well in here, eating us to the poorhouse. Lazy bastards.”
“You are in here,” Paris remarked drolly.
William didn’t even look at him. “As are you, which proves my point.”
In front of them, Jordan was doing quite well remembering her manners as well as all of the name and titles being thrown at her. She moved easily as if she were quite comfortable being the center of attention. She would engage the women in conversations about their jewels or dress, and encourage the men to tell her something of their families. All in all it was an excellent display, and he knew then and there that she would make a fine countess. He didn’t know whether to be proud or miserable.
The earl was introducing her to Earl Corvalis’ son, Langley. The lad was perhaps her age and he obviously was not thrilled to meet her. Jordan tried her best to be pleasant, but the situation was uncomfortable and she was eager to get on with it. She was hungry and her feet were starting to hurt, and the fool was taxing her good humor sorely.
She feigned interest as the lad’s father engaged the earl in a hearty conversation, ignoring Langley who stood in front of her. If he were going to be rude and not talk to her, then she would reciprocate. She could see him from the corner of her eye, looking at her and fumbling at his tunic.
Kieran saw the dagger first. It was right in his line of sight. The other knights saw him moving for his sword and, without question, drew theirs from their scabbards in a surge of force. By the time that action had been completed, they had all seen the source of Kieran’s concern and William was in motion.
Faster than speed itself, he grabbed Jordan out of the way. Paris had the earl and the viscount, shoving the men behind him, while Michael protected Analiese. Kieran and Deinwald descended on the earl’s son like vultures as Lewis tried to shove the confused guests clear of the melee.
People were screaming, falling away from the center of confusion and the soldiers on the loft began to break rank to go see what the matter was. Jason and Viscount Wereford were shouting at the top of their lungs for them to fall back, not at all sure themselves what was transpiring. It threatened to turn into a boiling mass of panicked people.
Jordan gasped as William swung her into his arms and was just getting a grip on his neck when he deposited her into Michael’s big arms.
“Get the ladies out of here,” he ordered sharply.
She clutched Michael’s neck, still reeling from shock and the pain of her still-tender shoulder being jostled, but she heard William’s orders and she balked.
“No!” she yelled at him, but he had already turned away. She looked up at Michael. “Dunna take me out, Michael. Not now. I must stay.”
He ignored her, sweeping her away with him and somehow managing to take Analiese along. Three of Northwood’s senior men-at-arms came rushing to his aid from their posts by the door.
Jordan had to stay. She had no idea what was going on, but she guessed she was either the cause or the cure. Twisting hard, she managed to loosen Michael’s grip and he had to stop or drop her.
“Calm down, m-my lady, all will be well,” he insisted.
She glared at him, half-clutched in his arms. “Put me down, ye brute, or I shall box yer ears.”
She was dead serious. Michael would obey William’s order to the death, but for some reason he found himself obliging and set her gently on the ground.
She sighed irritably and straightened her confining clothing. Her shoulder was aching a great deal at all of the exertion and she rubbed at it. Michael, seized with the fear that he had somehow reinjured her shoulder, went down on one knee so that he could look her in the eye.
“Are you all right, m-my lady?” he asked, his deep blue eyes concerned.
She waved off his concern. “I am fine. I would return now.”
“Nay, my lady,” he said firmly. “I have been ordered to return you to your rooms.”
Jemma came racing up then, a difficulty considering she was inebriated. She grabbed Jordan as she came to a halt so she would not fall over.
“What in the bloody hell is
going on?” she demanded.
Jordan could smell the liquor on her breath. And not just any liquor; it was whisky. She wanted to demand where she had got it from, but held her tongue. For now, she ignored her cousin’s question.
“Aye, ye have indeed been ordered to return me, Sir Michael,” she eyed him stubbornly. “But Sir William dinna say when ye were to return me to my rooms.”
His eyebrows rose. “But…my lady, he meant now.”
She ignored him, and Analiese and Jemma as well, straining to see what was going on.
What was going on was a lot of yelling and confusion. William had shoved his two knights out of the way and had hauled the earl’s son to his feet. He was brutally rough with the lad, drawing even louder protests from the young man’s kin.
“Where’s the goddamn dirk?” he demanded harshly to no one in particular.
“I have it,” Kieran held the emerald-encrusted blade in his left hand, still clutching his huge sword in his right.
William had Langley by the collar and forced him to meet his eyes. “You were going to stab the future countess,” he accused through clenched teeth.
“Nay!” the boy was scared out of his mind. “I was going to give her the blade as a gift.”
“With the blade pointing at her?” Kieran snarled. “I saw you unsheathe it, boy. Do not lie.”
The young man shook his head hard. “Nay, I tell you. It became unsheathed accidentally.”
De Longley was standing next to William, his face dark. His usually mild expression was menacing.
“Lady Jordan did not survive an arrow to be cut down by the likes of you,” he growled. “William, remove him and his family from my house.”
“Wait!” Earl Corvalis was pale. “He has done nothing. My boy would not murder anyone.”
De Longley whirled viciously. “We have known each other a long time, Bruce, and because of that friendship I will not order your son killed. But from this day on I will wash my hands of you. You are no longer welcome at Northwood.”
“Why did ye try to kill me, lad?”
The arguing instantly ceased, all heads turning in the direction of the softly-uttered question.
Jordan stood calmly a few feet away, her eyebrows lifted questioningly. Michael stood behind her, looking sick. Against all that he was, he had disobeyed a direct order from William and fully expected harsh punishment. It would not have bothered him so much had he understand just why he did it, but he could not have explained the action in words.
Jordan took a step closer to the panting, angry group of men. “Answer me.”
Langley blinked. “I was not trying to kill you, my lady. I was attempting to give you the dagger as a gift and it accidentally came from its sheath.”
“Where is the knife?” she asked, looking at Kieran, and at William.
Kieran extended his open palm, it was a small, beautiful dirk. She stared at it for a moment.
“That doesna look like the dagger of a young lord,” she remarked, then locked on to William’s eyes. “In fact, it looks much like a dagger my grandmother gave to me. Exceptionally feminine, wunna ye say, Captain?”
William didn’t answer her. His face was like stone, his eyes murky and dark with rage. She knew he would not answer her, but she believed she had made her point. She turned her attention back to Langley.
“I believe ye, Langley Corvalis,” she said. “ ’Tis a dirk fitting a countess and I graciously accept.”
“As I believe you, Langley.” From behind Michael, it was Analiese. Michael flinched; he had doubly failed. He had left Analiese with the soldiers and trusted that they would see her safely to her rooms. He might as well take his own sword and throw himself upon it now because once William finished with him, he would have wished he had.
Analiese approached Jordan. “Father, I know Langley well,” she said in an amazingly civil tone. “He is arrogant and silly, but he is not a murderer. I must concur with Jordan.”
De Longley wasn’t convinced. “Lady Jordan, Analiese….” He stammered.
Jordan cut him off, capturing him with her pale green eyes; only de Longley could order the boy released. Mayhap with Analiese’s surprising show of support, she could secure it. One boy had already been flogged and outcast because of her and she did nothing to prevent it; she would prevent this lad’s humiliation if she could.
“Sire,” she said pleadingly. “As a personal favor to me as yer betrothed, I would ask that ye release the lad on his word. I believe him, and no harm has been done.”
De Longley suddenly looked very old. He met her gaze a moment before nodding wearily. “As you wish, my lady.”
William instantly released his hold and the boy nearly fell to the ground. His father caught him and whisked him away. Slowly, the receiving line began to form again, the hum of whispers filling the room. The music resumed timidly, mingling with the voices.
Jordan smiled her thanks to Analiese, who gave her a short nod in return. But there was no mistaking the camaraderie she saw in her eyes. Elated and relieved, she again stood next to the earl feeling as if the evening had already been a momentous victory.
Except where William was concerned, he stood behind her shooting her a piercing gaze that she could almost feel through her clothes. She heard de Longley chuckle next to her.
“William is displeased, I would say,” he whispered to her.
She shrugged. “I am sorry, but he was wrong.”
The earl gave a loud snort. “William? Never.”
Jordan saw that her statement had greatly amused the earl. It was obvious that the man had an extremely high opinion of his captain.
The line of knights resumed behind the family. William ducked back, tapping Michael on the shoulder and motioning for him to follow.
They found their way into a small office. William was furious, struggling to keep his composure as he faced off against Michael.
“Would you kindly explain why you disobeyed a direct order?” He thought he sounded rather calm.
Michael’s jaw ticked. “She began to fight me, m-my lord, and I was afraid she would reinjure her shoulder.” He shrugged irritably. “She threatened, demanded, cajoled, and the next thing I knew, I was standing behind her as she interrogated Corvalis. It was as if she were you, my lord. I bowed without questioning her will, and I cannot explain m-my actions. I stand ready for punishment.”
“Michael, you are at least three times her size. Did it not occur to you to use force?” William snapped.
“Aye, m-my lord, it occurred to me, but every time I m-moved to take her she threatened to box my ears or slug me in the nose,” he said, obviously appalled at his lack of courage against the small woman. “I didn’t want to offend her, or hurt her, or m-myself for that matter. Besides, I did not see any real danger in letting her remain, albeit far removed from the trouble.”
William’s eyes were dark. “ ’Tis not your duty to determine if there is any real danger,” he growled. “I am your captain and you are my knight. You will do as I tell you without a second thought. I know Lady Jordan has vast powers of persuasion; believe me, I have been on the receiving end many a time. But that does not excuse your blatant disregard for my orders.”
“No, sire,” Michael agreed stiffly.
William’s hands were clenched in a hard ball behind his back. He trusted Michael’s judgment of the situation, but he would not tell him that. The point remained that he had disobeyed him. And that could not go unpunished.
“Adam’s knighting ceremony will be tomorrow night,” he said in a low voice. “You will not attend.”
It was a harsh blow but Michael didn’t flinch. Instead, he nodded quickly. “Aye, m-my lord.”
William eyed him, standing like a strong young tree before him. “Furthermore, you will be assigned to guard Lady Jordan tomorrow night since the rest of the knights will be at the service. See if you can resist her feminine wiles so that she may survive the night.”
Michael again nodded stoica
lly. “Aye, m-my lord, it shall be done.”
“See that it is,” William replied. “I will not have this conversation with you again. You have been warned.”
Dismissed, Michael spun on his heel and marched back into the hall, relieved he did not get his head taken off as he expected. The punishment was severe enough, but in the back of his mind he realized that William had made no mention of failing to keep Analiese from the room. Not so strange when he considered that William only had eyes for the fair Lady Jordan. And he could see why.
By the time William entered the hall, guests were taking their seats and the feast was about to begin. He was making his way to the head table when the drunken form of Jemma stumbled in front him.
He reached out to steady her, cursing silently when he saw who it was. She was in no condition to attend a formal banquet.
“Hello, English,” she slurred, then giggled. “Oh, I mean Captain.”
He frowned, hoisting her up so she would not fall. But he was not only irritated, he was apprehensive as well. If Jemma indeed knew everything about him and Jordan, then she must be removed at once before anything was inadvertently said.
“Come along,” he said, half-carrying her with him.
Over by the wall, several feet away, stood Kieran. William socked him with a look that made him straighten and take notice. He thrust Jemma at him.
“Look at her,” William hissed. “She is drunk. I thought you were watching her.”
Kieran looked concerned. “I was,” he insisted. “She’s only had two or three glasses of wine.”
William rolled his eyes. “Then she obviously cannot hold her liquor. Take her upstairs.”
Jemma reeled away from William right into Kieran’s broad chest. She smiled her sweet, curvy smile at him that even William found pretty. “Hello, my strong Sassenach knight,” she said dreamily. “Ye look mighty handsome tonight.”
William gave Kieran a disbelieving look before shoving them both toward the door. Kieran guided her just outside the door frame where William saw him pick her up. With a sigh to compose himself, he headed once again for the dais. This evening was growing more chaotic by the minute.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 76
