Jordan was standing up, looking beyond the table as he approached. “Where is Jemma going?”
William stopped before her, the damask covered table between them. “She is feeling ill, my lady. Kieran will take care of her.”
Jordan was up and moving. “If she is ill, then I must tend her.”
William moved around the table and met her halfway, grasping her arm. “She will be fine,” he said quietly. “Your place is here.”
Jordan flushed and yanked her arm free of his grip. “If she is sick, then I will tend to her. Kieran has other duties, I am sure.”
He frowned, cocking a black brow. “Trust me when I tell you that there is no need,” his voice was very quiet. “She is as drunk as a fool.”
Jordan blinked at him. “Then where did she get the whisky?”
When he looked puzzled and opened his mouth, she firmly cut him off. “English, Jemma can drink a barrel of wine and not feel a thing. I’d wager she could drink all of yer knights under the table. But the only drink she canna tolerate is whisky. I smelled it on her earlier, though I had not the chance to stop her.”
He sighed. “Be that as it may, she is far gone and I will not have her embarrassing the house of de Longley,” he turned her around and pointed her toward her chair. “Sit and enjoy. Jemma will be safe enough.”
Reluctantly, she complied. And she was later glad that she had.
The evening was wonderful. The food had been deliciously prepared, the entertainment lively, and the company good. With Adam on her right and the earl on her left, she was pampered and well cared for. William sat several chairs down from her and she could only see him if she obviously made the effort. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she made no such attempts and her heart ached not being able to see him.
The party went on all night. Jordan danced with every man of any importance who asked it of her, including the earl. Three times. From the moment she stopped eating until before dawn, she was never off her feet.
It was a wild, giddy world she had never before experienced on this level and she loved it. She loved to be happy and gay, but was increasingly disappointed that William had not yet danced with her. Just once, she hoped. What harm could it do? Just once to dance with the man she loved, in public, with everyone watching them. It almost brought her to tears thinking that she could pretend it was their wedding dance.
But William was busy, constantly roving the hall, checking in with his officers, making sure everything was running smoothly. But he kept his eye trained on her, watching every man that danced with her like The Wolf that he was. The sense of possessiveness that filled him was overwhelming but he did nothing to stop it. He could not have if he tried.
She kept passing him glances every time he would re-enter the hall and he could do nothing but gaze back at her. He knew she wanted him to dance with her, but he could not. It would not have been proper for the captain of the troops to dance with the future countess. He hoped to God she understood that he didn’t dance with her not because he didn’t want to.
A couple of hours before dawn most of the revelers were drunk through and through. The earl had long since retired, but Jordan, Analiese, Alexander and Adam were still going. Analiese and Jordan had spent the evening becoming comfortable with one another, yet William was still distrustful. Open hostility was much easier to handle than subversive thoughts.
Alexander reacted much the same way to Jordan that he always had; he ignored her. Adam, however, was obviously smitten with her and William had to smile at the naive boy. He was doomed for a heartache.
William had been watching Jordan all night and noticed that she had imbibed a good deal of wine. Every time a dance would end, someone would hand her a cup and she would drain it in one hoist to the cheers of her admirers. As much as he disapproved, he didn’t stop her because that was part of the tradition. He knew that one good hangover and that would cure her of this particularly vile custom. At the next party, she would remember and be far more cautious. Unless she was a lush, and then she would like it all the more. He chuckled inwardly to that thought.
By the time dawn broke, Jordan was bouncing off of the furniture and William decided she’d had enough. She had spent a wonderful evening, of which she would most likely remember little, and had won a great many admirers, mainly of the male sex. It had been blatantly evident that she was the princess of the party. Analiese, having ingested a great quantity of wine herself, seemed not to care, for she shared a good number of male attentions by her own right.
Jordan was propped against a table, half-talking and half-sleeping with a young nobleman, a cousin of the Earl of York. She giggled, slurred and he could hear her voice clear across the hall. When he marched sternly up to her, she tipped her head up to look at him and almost fell over backward.
He reached out and grabbed her, sending the man a scowl that sent him immediately away.
Jordan watched the man go, her head bobbing and weaving. “Ye chased him away, English. He was about to tell me a secret about Alexander. I do love secrets.”
He slipped his arm around her back, supporting her. “ ’Tis no secret you have had too much to drink,” he said, being mindful of who watched them. “ ’Tis time for you to retire.”
She pouted. “But my party is not over.”
“Aye, it is,” he enunciated each word.
Halfway across the hall she began to sag and he pulled her more firmly against him. “Why dinna ye dance with me, English?” she slurred. “I waited and waited.”
He started to answer when a shadow crossed in front of them. He raised his eyes to find himself staring into the beady orbs Baron Billingham. The tall, ugly man looked at Jordan as if he were appraising a side of beef and William bristled. It was no secret that the baron was particularly vile and William was fully prepared to do battle with him in order to protect Jordan.
“Tell me, lass,” he said with a leering smile, “do you have any sisters?”
Jordan tried to straighten up for she knew who the man was. She was trying desperately to form an answer in her alcohol-soaked mind but could not seem to remember any words.
“What do you care? You hate Scots more than anyone else around,” Alexander said as he was strolling past. He was weaving drunkenly as he headed for the door. “Besides, you are married.”
The earl glanced over his shoulder at the man. “Mayhap you should marry, Alexander, and then you would not be such a pain in the arse.”
Jordan could not stop herself. She started to giggle. William groaned inwardly, wondering what was going to come spilling forth from her delicious little mouth and praying she didn’t offend the man too greatly. Fortunately, the baron had had enough to drink as well.
“Nay, my lord, no sisters,” she said between chuckles and snorts. “Just me. And my cousin, Jemma, and my other cousin, Caladora. But there are plenty of beautiful Scot lasses for the choosing.”
The earl guffawed loudly in one short burst. “None that I have seen; at least, none like you.” He reached out a thick finger and stroked her cheek. “I’d pay good money for you.”
Jordan lost all of her joviality at that moment. She was frightened of the man and pressed closer to William. She was trying to formulate a reply when the baron, mercifully, moved away without another word.
William, relieved the encounter had not come to blows, hastened her from the room. As soon as they were in the foyer, he gathered her into his arms and took the steps two at a time until he reached her rooms.
There was no guard outside, which meant that Kieran was still inside with Jemma. Jordan had passed out cold on his shoulder and he shifted her so that he could knock on the barred door.
Suddenly, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and spun around, at an extreme disadvantage with Jordan in his arms. He certainly didn’t want her to become a shield should a sword fly out at him and he was fully preparing to drop her to protect them both.
But it was only Alexander. The man stood
in front of him, swaying dangerously. William’s tensed body relaxed at the sight. He was annoyed; he had no time for Alexander’s nonsense tonight.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded of the viscount. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I wanted to tell you to leave her alone,” Alexander replied.
William didn’t show any emotion. “Go to bed,” he said. “You are drunk.”
“Aye, I am,” Alexander agreed. “But I know what I am saying. Leave the bitch alone.”
William reached out his foot and rapped on the door. It was almost simultaneously opened by a grim-faced Kieran, who was gazing hostilely at Alexander. He had heard the voices.
“Take Jordan,” William said quietly, handing her carefully over to his knight.
“Give her to him.” Alexander crowed. “By all means, let Kieran have the whore. He’s a big man with big needs. Hell, there’s enough to go around for everyone.”
William’s nostrils flared in a rare display of his fury. A hard lesson was coming for the viscount.
“William,” Kieran stopped his advance. “Let me take Alexander back to his rooms. You take Lady Jordan.”
Kieran was afraid William was going to commit murder by the sheer look on the man’s face. But William shook him off.
“Nay, I shall be but a moment,” he assured him evenly. “Put her to bed.”
Kieran watched as William put a crushing hand on Alexander’s shoulder and turned the man back around, forcibly escorting him down the hall. William was speaking to him, but Kieran could not hear the words. But he knew the tone and he didn’t like it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
An hour later, William came back. Kieran admitted him, looking closely for any signs of blood on his hands. William saw his expression and waved him off.
“Nay, I did not kill him, but I wanted to,” he said. He sat heavily in the high-back chair, feeling his fatigue as he did.
Kieran studied him. “What’s that cut on your eye?”
William put his finger to it as if he had forgot it was there. “That? Just another one of Alexander’s tantrums. Seems he didn’t like what I had to say. But I, on the other hand, was most interested to hear what he had to say.”
Kieran sat opposite him. “And what was that?”
William let out a sigh, resting his head against the back of the chair. “ ’Twas not Analiese that made an attempt on Jordan’s life. It was Alexander.” When Kieran appeared shocked, he went on. “He did not exactly admit it, but he had knowledge of the attack that only my knights knew. Unless we have a spy among us, which we do not, Alexander made the attempt.”
Kieran let out a long hiss. “Bastard,” he said with conviction. “What did he say that led you discover him?”
“In his drunken state he mentioned the Welsh archer, the fact that the man was murdered with a dagger, and of Analiese’s necklace. Had he mentioned only one correct fact and not several, I would simply have assumed that he was guessing.” He exhaled wearily and scratched his forehead. “But then there was the curious statement that he believes himself in love with me and does not like the attention I have been paying Jordan.”
Kieran wasn’t surprised by the admission. “Alexander’s fondness for men is well known, William, but you are not his type,” he said. “His tastes run from young boys to the effeminate noblemen of the king’s court. He has never shown any desire for a fighting man.”
“Then I am given the dishonor of being the first.” He rubbed at his neck. “This conversation sickens me.”
Kieran took the hint. “Now that we know it is him, how do we protect Jordan against him?”
William lifted his eyebrows. “Now that we know it is him, I would say it makes it much easier,” he said. “We’ll continue the guard, but I think she can be allowed more freedom due to the fact we’ll place a guard on Alexander as well.”
Kieran snorted. “How are you going to explain that to de Longley?”
William sat forward, pausing a moment before rising exhaustedly to his feet. “I shall think of something and let you know when I do,” he said. “Now, I shall check on Jordan.”
He lumbered to her door and entered quietly, shutting it behind him. She lay on her back, one arm over her head and the other on her stomach, softly snoring in her stupor. He smiled, knowing she would have quite a headache when she awoke and imagining how foul her humor would be. Seeing that she was well and not wanting to wake her, he went softly for the door. The minute he lifted the latch, he heard her stir.
“English?” she called.
He moved back to the bed. “ ’Tis me, love. Go back to sleep.”
“I will, but I want ye to sta….” She rolled toward him and immediately gripped the bed. “Oh, God… I dunna feel so well.”
He could see what was coming and struggled to keep from smiling as he quickly retrieved her chamber pot.
Jordan retched her guts out in it and then some. William could do nothing more than hold her hair back so she would not soil it and speak softly to her while she gasped in her misery.
She fell back on the bed, her face green. “Oh, English, I feel awful. I have never felt so bad in my entire life.”
He threw a piece of linen over the pot and sat on the bed beside her. “Then mayhap at the wedding party you will not drink as much,” he said with gentle sternness. “Consider this your lesson.”
“Why dinna ye stop me?” she turned the blame around.
He laughed softly. “Because you would not have listened to me and probably would have accused me of spoiling your fun. Some things you must learn on your own, my lady. But I am curious; you have never been drunk before?”
“Not like this,” she moaned softly. “I dunna like wine much. And I could never drink enough whisky to make me sick.”
Kieran opened the door softly and peered in, grinning at the two figures on the bed. “Did anyone call for water?”
William grinned in return and nodded at him. “Aye, we did.”
“I thought so,” he closed the door behind him.
“Why the water?” Jordan rolled onto her side and hugged her pillow, trying to stop the bed from moving.
“To wash you up,” he replied. “And to drink. Byron has a concoction of mashed root and herbs that is guaranteed to make you feel better.”
She shoved her face into the pillow. “If I drink anything I will surely barf it up.”
He reached over and rubbed her back. “No, you won’t, I swear it.”
She fell back asleep, but the godawful potion was waiting for her when she next opened her eyes, and she drank it gladly.
*
Jordan awoke around noon. Even with her tremendous headache, she was determined to seek out Analiese and return the heavy, expensive necklace she had borrowed the night before. She was eager, too, to see if Analiese had a change of heart over the night once the wine had worn off and her mind had cleared.
She was apprehensive that the lady who would greet her this morn would be the same lady she had met the first day she had come to Northwood. She knew that hate wasn’t something one could forget over the course of a few hours.
But she wanted to go alone, not with her entourage of soldiers following her. She knew she could not simply walk out; nay, she would have to be cleverer than that. She must consult a higher source of cunning and deceit, for she was not particularly good at it.
Fortunately, Jemma was a master of trickery and decided that Jordan would dress as a serving girl and slip past the guards unnoticed. But the real convincing came when Jemma insisted on going and Jordan insisted she stay. It threatened to be an all-out brawl until Jordan told Jemma if she followed her, that she would send her back to Langton. Jemma ceased her arguing because she knew William would do it if Jordan asked it of him, and the thought of leaving Kieran terrified her.
Jordan traded clothes with Maggie the maid. The simple coat and tunic was too big, but she cinched up the girdle until she could not breathe to make it
fit properly. Plaiting her hair into a thick braid, she tied a kerchief around her head and put on Maggie’s worn brown slippers. She then took a basket and threw a pile of mending in it, concealing the necklace at the very bottom.
Jordan felt very sly and wicked, but also a great deal of freedom. She was not allowed from her rooms unescorted for any reason, and the thought of wandering the halls of Northwood in disguise made her feel very adventurous.
Jordan had a general idea where Analiese’s rooms were, simply from the talk she had heard and knew approximately how to get there, but even if she got lost she was not worried. Somehow, she would find her way. The thought that she would be anonymous in her serving garb, free to go anywhere in the castle, blotted out all apprehension she might have.
Jemma pinned her braid up under the kerchief so that her hair would be concealed. It was the final step before gathering her basket and opening the door, keeping her head lowered so that the guards could not recognize her. Jason had been on duty earlier; she prayed he was not there now for he would surely notice her.
Walking past the guards had been exceptionally easy, much to her surprise. No one said a word to her. She continued down the corridor, not daring to raise her head until she had rounded a corner and was out of their sight.
Getting her bearings, she knew that the family’s quarters were further down the corridor. It was so long she could not even see the other end. With a deep breath of excitement, she trudged down the endless hall. Wouldn’t Analiese be surprised to see her?
She went up a small flight of stairs and the hallway widened considerably. On the floor running the length of the corridor for as long as she could see was a richly woven woolen rug. Instantly she knew she had entered the de Longley family’s realm. She pushed forward, eager to find Analiese’s rooms.
There was a soldier further down the hall, standing stiffly next to a door. She approached him.
“Sir,” she said. “Might ye tell me where Lady Analiese’s room is?”
He looked sternly at her. “Why?”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 77
