Her emotions began to race, as did her breathing. She could hear the priest intoning the remainder of the blessing as if he were racing with the devil to finish it, but suddenly she could not hear anything else but her heart pounding in her ears. Panic. Horror. Fear. Her mind was reeling.
She felt very hot and a strange lightness filled her head. With horror, she realized she was going to faint and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Her cheeks blazed inordinately warm and her vision faded to black.
*
When Jordan came to, a host of faces were staring back at her with great concern.
“Here, now, here she comes,” she could hear the earl’s voice. “My lady? Can you hear me?”
“Sit her up.” It was a matronly woman’s voice. “Child, can you hear me? Come around now.”
Jordan struggled to sit up as several hands steadied her. “What… what happened?”
“Rest easy, child,” the woman said.
Jordan blinked her eyes into focus, deeply embarrassed that she had passed out. The queen was kneeling beside her, a wet cloth in her hand. Henry, behind his wife, stared back at her with his droopy eye and Jordan had to look away or she knew she would become sick again.
The earl was on the other side of her, along with William, and she turned enough to see that she half laid in Aloria’s lap.
“How do you feel now?” the queen asked.
Jordan blinked again, her hand going to her head. “A little dizzy, Your Highness.”
“ ’Tis the heat,” Eleanor said firmly, and everyone around her nodded confidently. “You will retire until the celebration this evening. ’Twould not do well to have a sickly bride at her own feast.”
Aloria gently pushed Jordan into a sitting position, as those who were kneeling around her stood. The earl motioned to William.
“Pick her up, Captain,” he instructed. “Had I the strength, I would do it myself.”
William reached down and gathered his wife to him with infinite gentleness, trying not to let his concern show. Eleanor approached Jordan as she lay cradled in William’s arms.
“You made it through the entire ceremony before your strength gave out,” she said with a bit of pride. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Countess of Teviot.”
Jordan smiled weakly, then stiffened as Henry approached. He eyed her emotionlessly. “You are a lovely bride,” he said. “I hope to see you well tonight. I think I should like to have a dance with the most beautiful bride in all of England.” With that, he turned and preceded Eleanor from the chapel.
William felt Jordan relax as the king and queen left, and he gave her a little squeeze. The earl turned to him.
“Get her up to her apartments. I must attend our king and queen, as befitting a bridegroom,” he said, looking at Jordan with concern. “Are you sure you are feeling well, Jordan?”
She nodded faintly. “Aye, my lord. ’Tis the heat, I am sure.”
The earl nodded in agreement, pulling his children with him as he left. In his wake, it took Jordan a moment to realize the entire chapel was vacant.
“What happened to the people?” she asked, confused.
“De Longley chased them the hell out when you fainted,” William replied. “You scared him.”
She shook her head, trying to clear her muddled mind. But a glance about told her that they were entirely surrounded by their trusted people and she relaxed against her husband, putting her arms around his neck.
“I was fine until I saw the king,” she said softly. “Then it was as if I had no control over my fear. All I could think of was his wrath should he discover us.”
Without replying, William took his wife from the chapel, through the back way, and up to her old apartments. His knights dispersed themselves and Aloria made herself scarce, although William made sure Paris kept an eye on the woman. He was still having a difficult time trusting her.
William sat her down carefully in the antechamber. “Off with that damn mountainous dress,” he ordered softly, helping her with the stays.
The dress fell to the floor and Jordan stepped clear, still holding onto William’s arms to steady herself. She was feeling much better now, but still a bit shaky. He removed the girdle and she sighed with relief, now clad only in her pantalets.
“Go lay down,” he ordered, his eyes raking over her body.
She obeyed, heading into her bedchamber thinking they were going to make love, but then realizing he wasn’t following her.
“English?” she called to him.
“I shall be there in a moment,” he said.
With a shrug, she lay down on her stomach on the cool linen sheets, letting out a contented sigh. She could hear him banging about in the antechamber and she cocked a puzzled eyebrow, wondering what in the world he could be doing.
He came into the chamber a minute later, bearing a basin and a cloth. Jordan, still on her stomach, watched him remove most of his armor and roll up his linen sleeves.
“What are ye doing?” she asked.
He put the cloth in the water. “I am going to bathe you.”
Pleased at the attention, she buried her face in the pillow and relished the feel of the cool water on her back and arms. His touch was slow and gentle, yet confident and she drowsed with the pleasure he was giving her. He stopped a moment, long enough to remove her pantalets, and then resumed his duty.
The cool dampness was heavenly on her legs and buttocks. The gross heat was permeating everything, and only the thick stones of the castle were able to offer some relief.
He continued to swab her for an endless amount of time and she was nearly asleep when he suddenly stopped.
“Turn over,” his voice was hoarse.
She obeyed, rolling onto her back. His breathing was ragged and his eyes smoky as he gently swabbed the front of her body, starting at her outstretched arms and ending at her little toes.
Jordan lay there, her eyes closed, her mind wallowing in every sensation he was giving her. The man was a gentle as a mother, for all of his size and strength. She could lay here forever and submit to his tender touch.
When he reached her breasts, he noticed what she had done with his gift.
“I like this,” he lifted up the chain.
She opened her eyes long enough to see what he was talking about. “It makes sense. The two most important tokens in the world to me, always next to my heart. Thank you for the gift, English. It means more to me that ye could imagine.”
“You are welcome,” he said, gently pushing the chain aside and continued his task.
“Did I scare ye, too?” she asked after several minutes.
He looked up from bathing her calves. “Hell yes, you did. But I caught you before you hit the ground.”
Her eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling. “I have never fainted before. All I can remember is seeing Henry looking at me with his saggy eye and everything becoming very warm,” she said softly. “It still makes me sick to my stomach if I think about it.”
“Then do not think about it,” he instructed, wiping the cold cloth over her ankles.
“I canna help it.” She propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at him at the foot of the bed. “English, I am so scared he is going to find out what we’ve done. I canna bear the thought of losing ye. If ye were to die, I’d kill myself.”
He tossed the cloth into the basin. “Nobody is going to die, love. We are almost done with it.”
She pulled her knees up, hugging them. “But there is still tonight. And there is still Aloria.”
He let out a grunting sigh as he removed his boots and sat on the bed. “Jordan, listen to me,” he said quietly. “Even if the king were to find out, I would find a way to take you and leave the country. Remember what we talked about just a few days ago? I have family in Normandy. There are always options, love. You worry overmuch.”
She gazed at him, his hair waving in the heat, his beautiful face. “I love ye, English.”
He smiled, flashing his dimples. “I love you, even if you did faint in front of the king.”
She gave a small cry of outrage and hit him with the nearest pillow. He laughed seductively, pulling his wife to him and kissing her with all of the longing and ferocity he was feeling for her. He lost himself in the taste and feel of her, leaving her delicious mouth to suckle hungrily on her neck and the rest of her sweet body.
That afternoon, the captain of the troops made love, not once, but three times to the earl’s supposed bride.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jordan had not had a drop of wine all night. She was still too uptight with the presence of the king and queen, and with the degree of their deception to be able to hold down anything more than water. Even in spite of William’s encouraging words that had calmed her so during the day, she found that seeing the monarchs again brought every fear back tenfold.
She was greatly troubled that King Henry had seen it fit to keep William so close to his vest since their arrival into the hall. The man seemed to have an obvious fondness for her husband and she was at a loss to discover why. With all of his courtiers, why should he demand William’s attention? She frowned, staring down into her trencher. It wasn’t like she would have been able to occupy his attention all night long, not when they were attempting to convince the general public that she had married the earl, but she found she was actually jealous of the aging monarch.
“Patience, my lady, patience,” the earl said, next to her ear. “You shall be able to see your husband soon enough, but until that time, maintain a happy facade if only for my sake. You are supposed to be happy that you married me this day.”
Immediately Jordan’s head came up and she beamed at the earl. “How is this, sire?” she said through her teeth.
“Lovely,” he replied. “Now, eat a bite from my trencher so that our guests may see we enjoy one another.”
He reached down and plucked out a juicy morsel of beef, placing it gently in Jordan’s mouth. She chewed slowly and with relish.
“Excellent, my lady,” de Longley complimented her. “You would make a fine actress.”
She was smiling, but this time it was for real. While the earl kept up a steady stream of conversation, the musician’s melodies floated above the huge crowd of people, blending in with the voices and the laughter. The more she relaxed with the earl’s words, she found she could actually enjoy herself. Soon she was laughing with Adam, ignoring the hell out of Alexander, and giggling with Analiese.
Suddenly the earl clapped sharply and the musician’s stopped. The buzz from the crowd died down as the attention turned to the guest of honor. Jordan, too, looked at him curiously.
“My friends,” the earl said benevolently. “I am honored to have you here this day, as is Lady Jordan. And to show our thanks, Lady Jordan will now honor us all with a song.”
Jordan was frozen with fright. To sing, in front of all these strangers and the blessed King of England? She was terrified. The crowd clapped happily as the earl extended his hand to help her rise.
“Up, my lady,” he said so only she could hear. “Your audience awaits.”
“My lord….,” she began.
He plastered on a false smile. “Smile,” he commanded.
She, too, put on the same fake smile instantly. “I canna sing in front of these people.”
“You can and you will,” he said, pulling her up and pointing her in the direction of the musicians. “Go on. I promise they will love you as much as we have come to.”
Love you as much as we have come to. The words echoed in Jordan’s brain. What had she ever done to deserve their love? She could not think of one single thing. Obeying blindly, she made her way to the place where the musicians stood and, after a brief conversation, turned and faced the audience. She was shaking like a leaf, praying her voice would not give out on her in her terror.
She searched out her husband, sitting next to the king, listening to the monarch prattle on. He glanced her way, a look of such love and warmth glazing his expression that she immediately felt confident in herself. As long as he was listening to her, supporting her, she could do it.
De Longley, too, gazed back at her as one would approve a daughter. Even Analiese managed what she probably considered a warm smile. Her trust in herself and her ability grew with their silent encouragement.
She murmured instructions to the musicians and the music started softly. Nervously, she glanced at the long table where the knights sat. They watched her, each with their own encouraging expressions, silently cheering her on.
It occurred to her just how much she loved her friends, the Englishmen she had grown up hating, she had now come to adore. No clan could have been closer. As much as she loved her family, she could never remember camaraderie such as this.
Her cue came. She began to sing a soft, hauntingly reverent melody praising the Virgin Mary. Since she had taken part in a great deception in the eyes of the church, she hoped that singing praises to God might ease his anger.
It was a beautiful piece, starting out softly, rising to a high flight of delightful notes, showing her great talent and range. With no effort at all she manipulated notes, trilling and running a scale, leaving her audience anticipating the next phrase with baited breath. Softening into the final bars of the song, she actually smiled with happiness when she realized she had captivated her audience.
There was a brief pause following the song before the entire hall burst into wild applause, calling for more of the same. Blushing, Jordan did a quick curtsy and dashed back to the dais, only to be met by the earl and his family, who, save Alexander, were on their feet clapping loudly.
“Again, my lady, I command it!” the earl roared happily.
She was embarrassed with all of open praise and glory, trying to beg the earl off by saying her throat was strained. She was lying, of course, for she was truly humbled by the response and was afraid if she were to perform another song, it would prove that the first attempt had been a lark. Better to leave them wanting for more that to leave them wanting her to stop.
The king and queen, on the other side of the earl, were on their feet as well and clapping politely. She curtsied deeply at their attentions and the applause died when they ceased. She could see William behind the king, beaming like a proud father.
“Sit, sit,” the king told everyone in the hall, motioning with his hands. “Everyone sit. I have a grand announcement to make that simply cannot wait any longer.”
The hall instantly went virtually free of conversation, the occupants turning their attention to their fair-haired king. The man smiled generously at his faithful vassals, with much personality and emotion as Jordan had seen since his arrival.
“ ’Twill be hard to follow such a performance, Countess,” he acknowledged Jordan, who forced a smile and a gracious thank you.
He turned back to the audience. “Today is a day of rejoicing for Northwood fortress. Not only has your earl married a talented and lovely woman, but a peace alliance has been cemented that will bring prosperity in the years to come. I am sure I speak for us all when I say congratulations. Additionally, I have an announcement that will be somewhat of a surprise to the recipient, but not much of a surprise for those who know him and his reputation. I speak of none other than Northwood’s illustrious captain, Sir William de Wolfe.”
William’s face registered none of the apprehension and surprise he was feeling. He continued to gaze calmly back at his king, even as the king motioned him to rise.
“Captain de Wolfe,” the king said, smiling a thin smile. “Your reputation as being the gatekeeper of the border has not gone unnoticed to the crown. You are feared and respected, and I would be hard-pressed, but for a few, to find a greater knight in all of England. You and you alone are responsible for keeping the Scots under control,” he said, facing out into the hall and raising his voice. “As you know, Wales has long been a source of rebellion for the crown much more as of late, and I find that I am in n
eed of a champion, someone who knows of border wars and of subduing uprisings. Someone of The Wolf’s reputation must ascend to greater heights in service, which is why on this eve I have the privilege of bestowing upon Sir William de Wolfe the title of Baron Kilham, with properties along the border near Coldstream. He will also bear the title of ‘King’s Champion,’ and will lead my troops on a successful campaign into Wales.”
William was stunned. He could not take his eyes off the king as the man turned and privately congratulated him on his new title, insisting that they would formalize everything on the morrow. It was all he could do to utter his thanks.
He was hardly aware of the riotous applause in the hall and his troops calling his name, the haunting cry that roused them to or from a battle. He could only see the king, hear his revelation, and think of Jordan.
William could see that Henry was quite pleased with his announcement and expected William to be as well. But pleased wasn’t near the word he had in mind to describe what he was feeling at the moment.
Henry was conversing with de Longley by this time. William retained enough of his senses to see that the earl was slightly flushed, a strong indication of the level of emotion. He knew that already the earl was voicing his disapproval; not for the title, but for the fact the king intended to take William from Northwood. He would have a strong ally in de Longley and he thanked God for that.
The king waved de Longley off and, pleading age and fatigue, abandoned the hall after dropping his hammer-hard announcement. Eleanor, with a gracious congratulations to the new champion, followed on his heels.
“Fear not, John,” Henry called out before he quit the room entirely. “I have no intention of making a spectacle of myself and showing up in your bridal suite demanding bed linens.”
De Longley could only stare back in astonishment, but after that, his attention turned to his former captain.
William, however, was focused on his wife. He could see her staring back at him, her face pure shock. And he knew her well enough to know that she was very close to breaking. He had to get her out of there and get her alone or they would both snap. De Longley moved toward him, but he waved the earl off curtly.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 92
