The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Mayhap the earl will send her to London when the king and queen return,” Jemma remarked.

  Jordan glanced over at her lady-in-waiting, sitting invisibly in the shadows. The woman looked positively lonely and she felt a stab of pity for her. “Aloria, where did ye foster?” she asked simply to bring her into the conversation.

  Aloria’s head came up from the book, surprised to be invited to speak. “In Gloucester, my lady. I went to foster when I was five years old.”

  Both Jordan and Jemma looked up at her. “What?” Jordan demanded. “Why on earth were ye so young? ’Tis madness.”

  Aloria looked at both ladles unemotionally. It had been so long ago that she had forgotten the pain of being abandoned.

  “My mother wished it,” she said simply.

  “But why?” Jemma asked. “Were ye a naughty child that she dinna want ye around? To be only five years old and fostering is terrible.”

  “ ’Twas not so bad,” Aloria murmured into her book. “ ’Twas better than staying home.”

  Jordan heard the last sentence, uttered very quietly. She set down her embroidery. “Yer home life was unhappy?”

  Her voice was so soft and soothing that Aloria felt herself instantly becoming comfortable with her new mistress’ manner. She could already see she was not at all like the women of Windsor, conniving and petty and nasty. She was gentle and sweet, and had an air of kindness about her. Aloria had never been around anyone such as Lady Jordan and was a bit unbalanced; she had grown terribly accustomed to always being on the defensive.

  It had been so long since Aloria had been around decent people she had nearly forgotten how to act. She had never been good at playing court games as it was, and there was something about Lady Jordan that made her want to open up.

  “Aye,” she said after a moment. “Verily.”

  Jordan felt sorry for the big-boned lass. “Was yer family cruel?”

  Aloria looked at her, wondering why in the world she felt like confiding in this woman, this Scot. She had always been so good at covering up her emotions, at evading them, but now she felt like spilling them all out to this gentle woman. And she still had no idea why.

  “Not cruel, not really,” she said softly. “You see, I am a bastard, the result of a liaison between my mother, the Countess of Devon, and the earl’s chief steward. Yet the earl publicly accepted me as his child, fed me and kept a roof over my head, yet he could not stand the sight of me so when I was five years old, I was sent away to foster. I have been fostering ever since.”

  Jordan’s jaw dropped in sympathy. Jemma, too, was misty with pity.

  “Aloria, how terrible for ye,” Jemma exclaimed softly. “Have ye never had a true home, then?”

  This woman speaking was certainly not the she-devil Aloria had run into earlier. She was speaking and acting gently, like her cousin. What was it about these two women that made her feel suddenly comfortable, suddenly as if her words mattered? She didn’t know, only knowing that these two Scots weren’t like any English she had ever met. She found herself telling them things she had never voiced to anyone.

  “Not really,” Aloria shrugged. “Not until I came to serve the queen at my mother’s request, but even then I didn’t truly fit in. I am not the very model of a true court lady.”

  “Why not?” Jordan demanded. “You are pretty, and well-groomed, and knowledgeable.”

  Aloria gave her mistress a weak smile. “But I am not tiny and fragile like the rest of them, like the both of you,” she replied. “True ladies are tiny little things that men like to take care of. No one wants to take care of me.”

  Jordan and Jemma looked at each other as if the thought had never before occurred to them. And Jemma began to feel exceeding guilty about the name-calling earlier.

  “Aloria, I dinna mean it when I called ye a cow,” Jemma said sheepishly. “Everybody looks like a cow to me because I am so short.”

  Aloria actually smiled at Jemma. “I started it, my lady, by calling you a bug. And I do apologize for that.”

  Jemma grinned back and waved her off. “I have been called worse,” she pointed at Jordan. “By her, no less.”

  Aloria gave a little laugh as Jordan nodded vehemently. Then her new mistress fixed her with a pleasant gaze.

  “You’ll fit here, Aloria,” Jordan assured her softly. “I promise ye will.”

  Aloria did not even dare to hope but she nodded. “If I survive,” she said, half in jest. “The knights look as if they want to kill me, especially the captain.”

  Jordan cocked a confident eyebrow and sat back in her chair. “Let me tell ye a little secret about the knights of Northwood, Aloria. A little honey and they will be eating out of yer hand.”

  Aloria looked puzzled and ashamed. “I do not know if I would know how. Men usually stay away from me.”

  “Not anymore,” Jordan replied. “If you are with me, then they’ll be near you. Just do what I do.”

  Aloria gave a timid little giggle. “I can but try, my lady. But will it work with the captain?”

  “Nay.” Jemma exclaimed vehemently. “Nothing works with that man. Ye’ll simply have to bow and scrape at his feet if ye want him to even be civil to ye.”

  Jordan glanced at her cousin as she talked about her husband. Was William really so cold to other women? She had not ever noticed because of the attention he gave her. Or was Jemma exaggerating again, she wondered.

  But Aloria took Jemma for her word. “Then I shall be as respectful as possible to him,” she passed a glance at Jordan. “Providing he does as he is asked.”

  Jordan almost smiled, remembering the angry words between Aloria and William. She knew William would most certainly not do as he was asked, and Aloria would not back down. It would prove to be an interesting test of wills.

  The women sat for quite a while with companionable conversation, feeling infinitely more comfortable with each other. Jemma and Aloria seemed to have completely forgotten about the bad start they’d had and for that, Jordan was glad. She didn’t want to play the mediator for the rest of her days.

  They discovered that Aloria was actually very humorous in a droll sort of way and Jordan was coming to like her. Her initial rigid manner had all been superficial, to please the queen and the earl, but in private she had loosened tremendously. Her misgivings of the court woman had vanished.

  By mid-afternoon, there was a harsh rap at the door. Aloria rose and opened it to find Kieran and Deinwald standing in the opening. Kieran looked right at her.

  “You, woman,” he said coldly. “Come with me.”

  Jordan had never heard Kieran use that tone and she stood up. “Why?”

  “Orders from the earl, my lady.” His tone was instantly gentle again as he addressed her.

  “What orders, Kieran?” Jordan stepped forward as if to protect Aloria from the men.

  “I do not know, only that I have been ordered to bring her to the earl and the captain,” he answered.

  Immediately, Jordan knew why. William had run right to the earl after the confrontation with Aloria and demanded she be removed. He had no idea what had transpired in the past couple of hours in the privacy of Jordan’s chambers, and Jordan did not want to lose her new lady-in-waiting. She liked her and was deeply distressed at the prospect of homeless Aloria being displaced again.

  Aloria’s family had not wanted her, and now Northwood would pledge the same. Jordan could not let that happen. Aloria must have a home.

  “I am going,” Jordan said shortly.

  “The orders were only for Lady Aloria, my lady,” Kieran said firmly.

  Jordan gave him a look daring him to stop her. “I am going, I said.”

  Kieran didn’t outwardly react, but Deinwald pursed his lips irritably and Jordan glared at him. “Dunna look at me like that, Deinwald Ellsrod, or I shall box yer ears.”

  He cleared his throat and stepped back, leaving Kieran to take the abuse should it come to that. Kieran, for his part, looked long at Jordan.


  “Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “So do not box my ears.”

  She nodded curtly, not giving in to his humor for she knew the situation to be serious. She was going to do battle with the earl and William on Aloria’s behalf and she must be mentally prepared. They would not take her lady from her.

  Over the top of Jordan’s head, Kieran’s gaze found Jemma sitting in front of her loom. She smiled her sweet little smile at him and he felt himself go warm and silly inside. He was so glad to see that, upon reflection, making love to him had not been a mistake in her eyes. He gave her a wink and closed the door behind the ladies.

  Kieran and Deinwald took them directly to the earl’s private solar. When Kieran opened the door, Jordan pushed right in with Aloria at her heels.

  De Longley was sitting at his desk and William was leaning against the wall, both men engrossed in their conversation. William turned when he heard the door open, fully expecting Aloria, but very surprised to see his wife. And the hard, determined look on her face doubly surprised him.

  “Lady Jordan,” the earl greeted her before William could speak. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

  There was not a man in the room who had ever seen Jordan angry, and it was a sight to behold. The woman was as hard as rocks. “I would know why ye have summoned my lady-in-waiting, sire.”

  De Longley contemplated his answer a moment. “As you are her mistress, ’tis your right to know,” he glanced at the big, blond girl. “We have decided that Lady Aloria does not fit our needs here at Northwood. She will be returning to London with the king and queen.”

  “Nay!” Jordan stamped her little foot, and when she suddenly realized who she was talking to, added, “Sire, I dunna want her to leave.”

  William walked around to stand by the earl’s desk. “ ’Tis not your decision to make, my lady.”

  She was furious with him to say the least. “But she is to be my lady, is she not? Then why canna I have a say in this decision?”

  William and the earl glanced at each other, wondering why she was defending this abrasive woman. But they also knew Jordan had a big heart and it would probably be wiser to reason with her than to give her a blunt order.

  “Then I will hear you,” the earl said after a moment. “Why do you wish her to stay?”

  Jordan eyed William as she spoke. “Because, sire, I like her. She will make me a fine lady and teach Jemma and I about courtly things. Please dunna send her away. I want her to stay.”

  William was sitting on the edge of the earl’s massive desk, his gaze on his wife less than pleasant. Jordan ignored him, instead, focusing on the earl.

  Aloria was stunned at the entire conversation, shocked that Lady Jordan would defend her. She’d never had anyone defend her, and she could see that the earl and the captain were displeased with the lady’s boldness.

  “If I may, my lord earl,” she stepped forward. “If you deem it best that I go, then go I will. I will not argue the point, although I do thank Lady Jordan for her fortitude on my behalf.”

  The woman was a smooth-talker, William thought. And he was not surprised to hear that his wife liked her, but he still wanted her gone. He turned his head away from both of them.

  “Lady Jordan is impressionable, Lady Aloria, and needs to be handled with that in mind,” he said. “You are too forceful and commanding, in our opinion, for this duty.”

  “Ye mean in yer opinion,” Jordan spit out before she could stop herself. “Ye dunna like her because she stood up to ye.”

  The earl fought off a grin at her bravery, misplaced though it may be. William turned a cool gaze to his wife.

  “Whether or not I like Lady Aloria is not the issue here. The point is that she is not suited to you. And she will go.”

  Jordan was livid at his arrogant, unforgiving attitude. This was the captain she had grown to despise, the unmovable man she had seen on unwelcome occasions. She frowned mightily at him, apparently at a dead-end.

  Well, they could not have Aloria. They had no right to send her back when the queen herself had selected her. She was not going to let her new lady go without a fight.

  Whirling on her heel, she charged past Aloria, reaching out to grab the woman’s hand. “Come with me,” she snapped.

  Shocked beyond making a rational decision to refuse, Aloria did as she was ordered. Jordan yanked the woman along with her to the door, coming to a grinding halt as she but reached the latch. Her glowering gaze settled on her husband.

  “Ye canna have her!” she spat at the roomful of men. “If ye want her, then ye’ll have to fight me for her.” With that, she jerked open the door and pulled Aloria along after her.

  Once outside the door, as if she suddenly realized what she had done, she passed Aloria a panicked glance. She’d never been remotely disobedient in her life and was shocked at herself. Her fury dissipated, overrun with fear of the coming wrath.

  “Run!” she instructed hastily.

  William and the others sat a moment in stunned silence. Kieran and Deinwald stared at each other, and then at William, wondering what he was going to do to his lovely new bride for her insolence.

  “Your wife is a woman of deep feeling,” the earl commented, while on the verge of giggles.

  A muscle in William’s jaw ticked as he thought on her behavior. “The only thing she is going to be feeling is my hand on her backside when I catch up with her.”

  De Longley released a pent-up giggle. “Do not be too harsh with her, lad. She’s had a rough time of it today.”

  William stood up abruptly. “Aye, but it does not excuse her rudeness to you or me. I apologize for her, my lord.”

  “No need,” the earl waved him off. “However, the most pressing issue at hand is the wedding ceremony. I knew Henry spoke Latin and I was a fool not to imagine that he would pay attention to what was being said. I had hopes that he would doze through the service but it appears to be a foolish trust. So it remains; what language do we perform the mass in?”

  William crossed his arms. “Jordan speaks and writes Gaelic. Why not that? Aloria said Henry had no working knowledge of the language.”

  De Longley nodded in agreement. “That makes the most sense. I will send for Father Sutton immediately and your wife can write the mass for him. We’ll tell Henry that Jordan wished the service to be in her native language for purely female sentimental reasons, or some other story along those lines, and pray that he is not offended.”

  William nodded, moving for the door.

  “And William,” the earl said with a twinkle in his eye. “Be easy on her. ’Twould not do for a bride to show up at her wedding bruised from head to toe.”

  William realized how harsh he must appear outwardly and forced himself to relax. “No need to worry, my lord. I’d sooner cut my own arm off than lay a hand on my wife in anger. However, she will receive an earful, and mark my words, the court lady returns with Eleanor.”

  He left the room, leaving the earl with Kieran and Deinwald. The two knights glanced at the earl where the man sat with his chin in his hand behind his desk. His eyes were distant and amused.

  “Mark my words, lad,” he muttered with a chuckle. “That remains to be seen.”

  *

  William burst into his wife’s rooms without a knock. Jemma, who moments earlier had been advised of Jordan’s stupidity, yelped at the sight of him and fled to her room, slamming the door. William frowned at Jemma’s reaction, wondering if he would get the same response from his wife.

  “Jordan!” he roared.

  Jemma screamed again from behind her door and he glared irritably at the closed panel as if his wife’s cousin could see his distaste at her behavior. Not waiting for an answer, he barged into Jordan’s bedchamber to find her standing calmly at the foot of her bed, her green eyes wide at him.

  She met his gaze with an up thrust chin, an action suggestive of Jemma of which he highly disapproved. It only served to fuel his outrage.

  “
Where is she?” he demanded.

  Jordan was grinding her teeth. “Packing her things, thanks to ye. Seems I am the only one willing to fight for her to remain here. She willna stay where she’s not wanted.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What possessed you that you would be deliberately rude to the earl and to me? What is the matter with you?”

  “Ye treat me like a brainless nymph, William,” she shot back. “Ye treat me as if I am only good as a pretty little piece of chattel on yer arm or good in bed. Ye already run my daily life as it is. Am I not even allowed to choose my companions now?”

  He was slightly taken aback with the passion of her statement. “Is that what this is about? You are trying to assert a certain amount of control with me?”

  “Nay.” She came around the bed to stand in front of him. “I would simply like to have a say in a decision that will directly affect me. Is that too much to ask of ye? I am capable of making an intelligent decision.”

  “I am well aware of that,” he said evenly, seeing that she was truly angered by the situation. “Jordan, we have been through this before. You must trust that I know what is best for you.”

  “And I dunna?” she asked pointedly, though calmer. “William, I am not daft. I think Aloria is a fine addition to Northwood and I wish her to stay. Why do ye want her to leave so badly? Because she stands up to ye?”

  “Why do you keep bringing that up? You stand up to me, yet I d-o not send you away,” he said, a bit sarcastically. “I told you from the beginning that if I did not feel the queen’s lady was a proper companion for you, then I would send her back. And from the looks you were giving her in the grand hall, I didn’t think you wanted her. Why the change of heart?”

  Jordan deflated a little, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Because I have had a chance to talk to her, to get to know her,” she said. “Did ye know she’s the bastard daughter of the Earl of Devon’s wife and he sent her away when she was five years old? She has never had a home, English, or a place where she belongs. Even the queen was eager to be rid of her because she dinna fit in at court. Canna ye see? I dunna want her discarded again. Aloria just wants to find a place where she belongs, and I want her to belong here.”