Jordan was wiping at her eyes, watching Kieran’s stiff back and her husband’s face as he read the message. She knew deep in her heart that it was something awful about Jemma. After the news of Langton, she wasn’t sure she could take any more bad news. But she had to know.
“What does it say?” she asked softly.
William looked up at her. He glanced at the vellum again, then at Kieran, before answering.
“Jemma delivered a daughter two weeks ago,” his voice was faint with dread. “Your cousin is fine, but the child was stillborn.”
Jordan’s hands flew to her mouth as if to block out the scream that was threatening to burst forth. Her wide eyes were wider, filling with fresh tears that gushed over her cheeks like a waterfall after a rain. She began to shake her head, back and forth, hauntingly chanting over and over,
“No, no, no!”
William dropped the parchment and went to her, cradling her in his arms and feeling the wracking sobs that shook her. He could only imagine her pain, Kieran’s pain, knowing that it could have so easily been tragic for their sons, as well. Only by the grace of God did they have two healthy children.
As Jordan expended her grief, another sound filled the room, deep and mournful. It took William a moment to realize that Kieran was weeping.
Jordan heard him and she immediately ceased her own sobs, pulling away from William to gaze at Kieran’s heaving shoulders. He stood facing the wall, but his hand was over his face. Jordan instantly forgot her own pain, tears anew for Kieran’s grief.
“I must comfort him,” she whispered.
He didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he lifted her from the bed and carried her over to where Kieran stood. Gently setting her down, he backed away as Jordan threw her arms around the big knight and they cried away their anguish.
William simply stood, watching, his heart breaking for the both of them. He’d never seen any of his knights cry, least of all Kieran. He hoped that Jordan could offer him at least a small amount of comfort until he was able to see his wife again.
But there were bigger things at hand, at least for him. Henry had a sizable force amassed for him to lead back to the border and even now the king awaited his presence. He was damn reluctant to leave at this moment, but he had no choice.
Pulling Deinwald with him, they ducked into a small alcove where William kept his armor. Between him and his knight, his armor was assembled and latched in no time. They had worked silently, knowing what was coming, and mentally prepared themselves for it. William and Deinwald had seen so many battles together that there was never any need for words. It was as if they could read each other’s minds.
They emerged into the bedchamber a few minutes later to find Jordan and Kieran sitting on the bed. William could see that Kieran was calm now and he was listening intently to Jordan’s soft voice. He wished he could allow them more time to deal with their grief, but there were simply too many pressing matters. He needed Kieran with him.
“Kieran,” he said quietly.
Kieran stood, looking somewhat sheepish at his earlier display of emotion. “My lord?”
Since Kieran seemed intent on moving forward, and was putting the outburst behind him, William was too. “You will attend me at my meeting with Henry. Deinwald, see to the assembling of the troops and make sure all knights are present. If I am going into battle, I want a full complement. And see if we can send a missive on ahead to Northwood, letting them know we are riding to their aid.”
“Aye, my lord,” Deinwald said, moving from the room. William turned to Kieran.
“I want to speak with the messenger from Northwood and find out exactly what we will be dealing with, including the current state of Langton. I need to find out the state of the Scot forces.”
Kieran nodded, his armor clanging as he moved for the door. He appeared almost forced in his manner, wanting to get his mind off his sorrow. Jordan watched him with a great deal of sadness as he disappeared into the antechamber.
“He is devastated, English,” she whispered to her husband. “Be easy on him.”
William gazed down at her, so lovely in her flowing white dressing gown. His heart was being squeezed at the thought of leaving her yet again.
“He is a knight, Jordan,” he said. “I cannot afford him anymore consideration than anyone else, less so because he is my second. He is a strong man.”
She pursed her lips, regretfully thinking on his words. “So ye’ll be leaving me once more, will ye?” She shook her head. “Seems we just come together and ye are riding off again.”
He stood before her, watching the sunlight from the window play on her hair. “I am sorry. But at least I was here when you needed me most.”
“Which brings me to my next subject,” she said thoughtfully. “The priest will be christening the babes in a few days. We havena discussed names yet.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you decide is fine with me,” he told her. As much as he would like to help her select names, he had more pressing things on his mind.
“Then I have already selected the names,” she announced bravely.
It was as if she had been waiting for him to leave the naming to her. By the tone of her voice, she had apparently decided a while ago. He fought off a smile.
“Is that so?” he put his hands on his hips stubbornly. “Then tell me so that I may approve.”
He saw a flash of stubbornness in her eyes. “Approve or not, ’tis what I want,” she told him. “I have decided that our firstborn will bear the name of Scott, in honor of my clan and of my father. Our second son will bear the name of Troy, in honor of yer best friend and captain of Northwood for going above and beyond the call of duty during my months of pregnancy. He was a godsend to me, English, and I would like to honor him.”
“Scott and Troy?” he repeated thoughtfully. “Hmmm. I do not get a child named for me? I am, after all, their father.”
“They bear the name de Wolfe, and that is yer name, is it not?” she said slyly, watching him snort at the technicality. “But I have thought of ye and yer father as well. Scott’s full name will be Scott William Edward de Wolfe. Troy’s full name will be Troy Paris Richard de Wolfe, for Paris and his father.”
William was immensely pleased. He scowled at her, however, in feigned outrage. “Let Paris name his own sons after himself. Why does my son need to bear his name?”
She rose stiffly, knowing he was not truly outraged. “Because, English, he did ye a great service by watching over me and ye bloody well know it,” she said. “And, furthermore, ye have served with him for many years and ye….”
He cut her off by pulling her against him. “Fine, fine, I agree with you,” he said, hugging her. “Christen my sons Scott and Troy.”
She smiled happily at him. “Thank ye for ye approval, husband.”
He raised his eyebrows. “As if I had a choice.”
She continued to gaze up at him when suddenly her eyes turned misty.
“What’s wrong?” his brows drew together.
She was trying not to cry. “Langton,” she said softly. “Oh, English, what has become of my Da? My family?”
“I do not know, love,” he replied, rubbing her arms comfortingly. “But I will find out, I swear it. I shall take care of your family.”
She sniffed and blinked. “I know ye will. But I dunna know if they will take kindly to The Wolf.”
“They have no choice,” he said sternly. “Since I am the father of two new kinsmen.”
She smiled through her tears. “My Da will be so pleased to finally have sons,” she said. “Do be gentle when ye tell him his daughter married the most feared Sassenach warrior on the border. He is likely to burst a vein.”
“Better than him bursting my head open with a mace,” he said grinning, and pushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “Do not worry, love. The Wolf is returning to his home. Everything will be as it should be.”
She reached up and touched his patch. “Can ye fight all right now? I
know how hard ye’ve been practicing.”
“I am better than all right,” he said confidently.
She believed him and it made her feel much better. She very much wanted to go to Northwood with him but knew it was impossible at the moment.
“Will ye send for me when everything is taken care of?” she asked hopefully.
“Aye, you know I will,” he assured her. “Mayhap we will even occupy Questing for a time, but should Henry call me back to London then you will come with me. I will never be separated from you again, and the king be damned.”
She frowned. “What do ye mean ‘the king be damned?’”
“Because he still believes you to be the countess, of course,” he reminded her patiently.
She shook her head. “He knows I am your wife,” she informed him. When he looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and fear, she nodded firmly. “Aye, he knows, William. I told him myself the very day I arrived. He has not said anything to ye yet?”
“Nay,” he shook his head in wonder, but he was also angry with her. “Why did you tell him, Jordan? ’Twas not your place.”
“Not my place?” she repeated incredulously. “I am yer wife, English. ’Twas not only my place, it was my right. He saw me when I arrived and called me ‘countess.’ I was frightened for ye and wanted to tell him at the first why I had come to London, to tend ye. I dunna think he was very happy, in faith, but at least he knows the truth of it now.”
William rubbed the back of his neck worriedly. Truth was, she had saved him the responsibility and it was much harder to strike a pregnant woman than a large, healthy knight. He deduced that if Henry were truly angry then he would not have commanded William to lead troops back to Northwood. Nor would he still be the king’s champion, or a baron for that matter. William found that he was greatly relieved that the monarch knew their secret.
At least he knew now, heading into his audience with the king, that Jordan had told the man everything. Better to be prepared.
“Speaking of the king, he is expecting me.” He would not dwell on what she had done. Leaning down, he gave her a swift kiss on the lips, but she latched onto his neck with her arms and would not let him go. He responded automatically, kissing her deeply until he forced himself away from her with a groan. “Do not do this to me, Jordan. Making love to you is out of the question, although it has been an eternity and I would dearly love to.”
“I miss ye already,” she whispered.
He left her with another kiss, but not before making sure she got back in bed with Analiese in attendance. His mind at ease with his wife and children taken care of, he marched from his apartments and prepared himself for his meeting with Henry.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Henry did not mince words; he was short and to the point. He was bloody well pissed off at the whole situation, and William wondered if Alexander would be facing the swordsman when he returned to London. Henry’s veins bulged on his temple as he ranted and raved about the stupidity of a certain new earl and cursing the Scots in the same breath. Not only did he have problems with the damnable Welsh, but the Scots were becoming completely unreasonable as well. He would send a missive to King Alexander of Scotland and demand that the man control his border lords… or else.
William stood stoically in front of his king, listening to the ramblings of an angry old man. Around him, his courtiers remained in silent agreement, offering small opinions to reinforce the king’s own ideals.
William was completely focused on the king until he began to notice that the ladies present were looking at him and sending him coy, meaningful glances. He was irritated at their attentions, tearing his gaze away from Henry only once to shoot the group of them a reproachful glare. Undaunted, they continued until Henry dismissed the entire room, with the exception of William.
He came down off the dais, giving William the once over as he calmed his boiling blood.
“You look as if you could take on the devil and win,” the king commented.
“Mayhap that is just what I will be doing, sire.”
The king grunted. “I am glad to have my champion back. We came close to losing you a few times, didn’t we?”
“I am better than ever now, sire,” came the firm reply.
Henry nodded, fixing William with a stare. “And I understand congratulations are in order. I hear your wife birthed two healthy sons yesterday.”
William faltered for a split second. “Aye, sire. She and the twins are doing very well. Allow me to apologize for not telling you of the true situation between Lady Jordan and myself. ’Twas wrong of me, I know.”
Henry looked impassive. “Aye, it was. But you are not entirely to blame. Yet I must tell you that if John were alive he would be the recipient of the royal wrath. I am unused to being deceived in such a manner.”
“What the earl did, sire, he did out of respect for me,” William defended his late liege. “He knew of my feelings for Jordan and he also knew that she returned those feelings. To marry her would have caused a great many people misery, including himself. He did not want a bride. Believe me when I tell you that he did not allow me to marry Jordan just to spite you.”
Henry shrugged thoughtfully, yet with an irritated cock of the brow. “Be that as it may, it still serves a purpose in that Lady Jordan is married to a border lord, yet I understand that there is virtually no Langton left to be allied with.”
“So I have been informed, sire,” William answered grimly.
Henry paced back to his chair. “I would know the situation as soon as you reach Northwood. I have no patience with the bloody Scots and their mindless war games. What they are doing is foolhardy and well they know it. ’Tis time for a show of force from the crown to chase the little bastards back into their holes. Be swift and painful, William.”
“Aye, my lord,” William replied, meeting his king’s gaze.
“You know, you are somehow different to me,” Henry said as almost an afterthought. “ ’Tis not only the obvious, but something in your stance. Your manner. Has this injury affected you so?”
William shook his head, puzzled. “I know not what you mean, my lord.”
Henry rubbed his chin, leaning on his arm rest. “Mayhap I know not, either. The de Wolfe I brought with me from Northwood was pure warrior, the invincible champion. The de Wolfe I see before me has suddenly taken on dimension.”
“I hope for the better, sire,” William had no idea what the man was talking about.
“Absolutely,” the king nodded. “My God, man, you were formidable enough before. But now you seem… indestructible. Mayhap it is that eye patch that gives you such an imposing presence. Mayhap a wife and children has made you complete in your old age.”
William smiled faintly. “I will not dispute your wisdom in that, my lord.”
Henry stared at him a moment more before waving William off. “Ride hard, lad. You have a good deal of cleaning up to do. I would hear from you as soon as you arrive.”
“By your command, sire.”
*
He returned to Jordan later on that day after checking on the army he was to lead. Henry had ordered a three thousand man force, including eight wagons and a full company of mounted archers. It was damn near the biggest army William had ever seen. He knew the king was deadly serious about quelling the Scot resistance with this size of a force and wondered if it were because he felt guilty when he downplayed de Longley’s concerns. Obviously, the earl had been right.
William’s mind kept wandering to the conversation he’d had with the king and the strange comments the sovereign had made. He had used words like invincible, indestructible, complete… had his injury changed him? He shook his head; he knew not how except that he was stronger for it. He was still the same person he had always been, with the exception that he now had sons to care for; and a wife he was madly in love with.
He shook his head again in confusion. He would have to ask Jordan if there had been a noticeable change in his demeanor.
She would tell him the truth.
He was crossing the small courtyard that led to the apartments where he was housed. He noticed three women several feet away, the same women that had been in Henry’s audience chamber. They smiled coyly at him and laughed amongst themselves as he drew closer, but he ignored them. He had seen the women before, several times since his arrival, but only recently had they sought his attention openly.
When he was only a few feet away, much to his distress, one of the women brazenly approached him.
“Baron Kilham,” she said with a sickly sweet voice. “We are so pleased to see you alive and well again.”
He stopped purely out of courtesy, even though he could feel his impatience rising. He had no time for these silly females.
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Please call me Miranda,” she batted her eyelashes at him. “Lady Miranda le Londe. Mayhap you have heard of my father, Baron Rochedale?”
“Indeed I have,” William replied evenly, but he almost laughed aloud at her flirty gestures. She had above-average looks but was a far, far cry from his wife. Naturally, Jordan had become the standard by which he judged all beauty and he had yet to see a woman that even came close.
A busty brunette thrust herself forward, her dress so low cut that he could see the areolas of her nipples. “And I am Lady Vanessa Moresby, niece to the king’s master chamberlain,” she said, giving him what he was sure was her best smile. “We heard of your grave wound. God be praised that you have regained your health.”
“My lady,” he greeted with a slight bow, discreetly taking a step back to put some distance between them. He was uncomfortable with their proximity.
The third woman, a tall young beauty, would not be left out. “My lord,” she curtsied. She seemed to be not as bold as the others. “I am Lady Charlotte Kincaid, ward of our king and heiress to Southollow Keep, near Essex.”
William bowed to her politely as well. Now that they’d had a chance to introduce themselves, he believed the time to excuse himself was ripe. He bowed again and took another step back only to be enveloped by Lady Miranda and Lady Vanessa. The women attached their hands to his massive arms and clung to him like leeches, talking rapidly and interrupting each other in the haste to make themselves heard. His patience was quickly gone.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 101
