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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She called softly to Kieran as he descended the stairs behind Paris. Like an eager pup, he bound back up the steps and to her side.

  “My lady?” he responded.

  She smiled at him. “I am sure Jemma was glad to see ye this morn, even if she neglected to say so.”

  He almost blushed. “Simply doing my duty, my lady. Sir William asked me to return her to her rooms.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.

  Jordan eyed the man. Stubborn as Jemma was, she would probably never give gentle Kieran a fighting chance to woo her. She decided that Jemma needed some help.

  “Kieran,” she purred mischievously. “Jemma thinks ye’re handsome. She told me so. I know she was glad to see ye.”

  He did blush then, running his finger along his collar of his tunic as if he thought it was too tight. He struggled with his composure for a moment before she took mercy on him.

  “I just wanted ye to know,” she told him. “She is a stubborn, willful wench but she has got a heart of gold and could make God himself laugh. Do not be put off by her demeanor.”

  She went into the room and shut the door. In the vacant corridor, Kieran grinned broadly and shook his fists triumphantly in the air. The smile split his face in two as he descended the stairs two at a time.

  Jordan went to Jemma’s smaller bed chamber, noting that her cousin was already moving to undress.

  “Are ye all right?” she demanded earnestly.

  Jemma looked angry and tired. “Aye, my body is sound,” she replied. “But I have a greater hatred now for the English than I ever had before.”

  Jordan began to help Jemma strip off the heavy silk. “I am sorry,” she apologized. “Had I not returned Analiese’s insult, ye might not have felt the need to offend Alexander. I know ye were only defending me.”

  Jemma shrugged out of the dress. “He deserved it, Jordi, and I dunna regret the insult for a moment. Just as I told yer precious captain.”

  “He came to ye?” Jordan asked.

  “Aye, this morning before the sun was up, he was standing in my cell with a tray of porridge and ale,” Jemma replied. “He stood there while I ate the whole thing, asking me only once if I regretted my words. Big brute, he is.”

  Jordan stiffened. “What do ye mean he is a brute? Did he try to harm ye?”

  “Nay,” Jemma was out of her undergarments and standing stark naked. “I meant that he is so big he seemed to fill up my entire cell. He never lifted a hand nor raised his voice, but I felt…I felt a-feared of him just the same. The man has a power about him that none of the other knights do.”

  Jordan smiled faintly. “Not even Kieran?”

  Jemma lifted her eyes to meet her cousin’s. “Kieran is larger than the captain, but he does not radiate the same presence. ’Tis difficult to explain, but in the cell I actually felt safe and frightened at the same time.”

  Jordan knew exactly what she meant. She stood up and put her arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “Come on, lass,” she said softly. “That tub out yonder is big enough for the two of us.”

  They bathed each other and dressed carefully. Jemma selected one of Jordan’s yellow brocade surcoats with shortened sleeves while Jordan opted for a pale green silk that matched the color of her eyes. The bodice clung to her like a second skin while the full skirt cut away to reveal snatches of an ivory satin sheath. She pulled the front of her hair back away from her face and secured it with a crystal clip, leaving the back falling softly to her waist.

  Jemma looked at herself in the mirror. “This dress is too long, too,” she observed. “Can ye see about getting me some dresses made?”

  “Aye, I was thinking on it just now,” Jordan agreed. “I shall ask the earl when next I see him.”

  Jordan went to the window and inhaled deeply the rapidly warming air. “I think we shall go for a walk this morn,” she said decisively. “I would see this kingdom I am to be countess over.”

  “But what about the incident yesterday?” Jemma reminded her. “Do ye think it wise to go out so soon?”

  Jordan cocked her eyebrow. “I will not be a prisoner in the castle,” she told her. “I intend to meet the people and show them that they have nothing to hate. Might as well start today. Are ye coming?”

  “Ye know I am,” Jemma said.

  Jordan gathered her handkerchief and moved to the door. “Let us see who my watchdog is today,” she remarked passingly, then glanced at Jemma. “And I expect the best behavior from ye, no matter what might be said or done. Understood?”

  “Aye,” Jemma said as if she was insulted by the question.

  Adam stood in the hall with three men-at-arms. His fair young face lit up when he saw Jordan open the door.

  “My lady,” he greeted with a bow. “How may I serve you today?”

  Jordan smiled at the young man. “Are ye to be my sitter today?”

  “Aye, my lady,” Adam had a nice, soothing voice. “I have the pleasure.”

  “Good,” she said. “We wish to go for a walk and see Northwood.”

  A shadow of a doubt crossed his face. “I must make sure it will be all right with Sir William,” he said politely.

  Jordan put her hands on her hips. “It will be, and I am going at this very moment. You may wait here in the hall and guard an empty room as ye wait for a reply, or you may come with me now.”

  He could see her determination and was not quite sure how to handle her bullying. But, as a gracious knight, he bowed to her wishes and within minutes Jordan and Jemma were out in the morning sunshine, followed closely by Adam and the three soldiers.

  The day was bright and warm and wonderful and Jordan’s mood was light and happy. Jemma kept up a steady stream of chatter, but Jordan could see that she was preoccupied. It did not take a genius to figure out that she was looking for Kieran. Jordan listened to her loosely, keeping her own eyes open for William.

  The last time she had seen him was after he had made love to her and she wondered with a nervous stomach if he had regretted the action after he’d had time to think over it. She was divided between being thrilled to see him and apprehensive of the same. Would he still feel the same? She did, with all her heart. She hoped he would, too.

  They met up with Deinwald and Michael. As they were exchanging pleasantries with the knights, Kieran snuck up behind Jemma, poked her in the arm, and nearly scared the wits from her. He smiled broadly as she called him every name she could think of.

  “Ah, so I see that a night in the cellar has done nothing to subdue your wild tongue,” Deinwald commented with a scowl. “What will it take, banshee? A few days on the rack or in the cold room?”

  Jemma’s mouth opened into an outraged ‘O.’ “Who asked ye, Deinwald? I dunna recall even speaking to ye, so keep out of my conversations.”

  “Aye, Deinwald, do shut up,” Kieran agreed. “I was enjoying the tongue-lashing.”

  Michael and Deinwald exchanged meaningful glances, definitely reading a sexual connotation into Kieran’s statement. Kieran saw their looks and narrowed his eyes warningly, slugging Michael full on in the chest with the back of his hand to emphasize the threat. Fortunately, Jemma and Jordan were oblivious to the plausible sexual innuendo.

  With the knights in a semi slug-fest, Jordan ignored them and pushed on with her cousin. Jemma again picked up the conversation where they had left off and Jordan continued to listen absently. It took her a moment to realize that Kieran, Michael and Deinwald had joined Adam and the soldiers, turning their little group into quite a procession. She had to smile; they certainly were hell-bent on protecting her.

  They passed the tanner’s shed and Jordan engaged the man in a conversation. At first, the ruddy man was hesitant to talk to her, especially with four huge knights standing directly behind her, but he loosened considerably when she began to praise the quality of his work. Jordan knew little of tanning and asked the man many intelligent questions until he was eagerly taking charge of the conversation, showing her his w
ares and explaining techniques. The dialogue ended with him promising to make her a fine pair of boots and she thanked him graciously.

  The group moved on. They passed the blacksmith and the carpenter. Deinwald himself gave her the tour of the blacksmith’s shack, his arrogant manner causing the stocky blacksmith to shake his head in irritation. The more Deinwald talked, the more the man would shoot him sardonic glances. Deinwald glanced over his shoulder at him once or twice in response to Jemma’s giggles, eventually realizing what went on. As they left the shed, Deinwald retaliated by pinching the great draft horse the man was shoeing in the arse and the horse nearly bolted through the wall.

  Jordan was making a deliberate point of stopping and speaking to the workers, commenting on their labor and asking thoughtful, keen questions. It wasn’t long before they responded to her openly, as if she did not speak with a thick burr. There were a few that were less friendly than others, but no one was openly hostile and that relieved her greatly. She realized that it was because her escorts were silently threatening each and every one of them behind her back, but she didn’t care. As long as it gave her a chance to talk to them, she figured she could do the rest on her own.

  She wanted them to see the woman, not hate the Scot. Even if she knew nothing about their trade, she was intent on learning. She was bent on making acquaintance with these people, to let them see their future countess and to allow them to see she that she was not their enemy.

  They wound their way around to the rear of the fortress where the kitchens were. Children dashed about, chasing each other and playing games Jordan smiled. She liked children and she hoped they would give her a chance to be their friend, too.

  A group of small ones passed too close to Deinwald and he barked angrily at them. They scattered like rabbits, save one little girl who fell down in her panic. She sat on the ground whimpering as she nursed a scraped knee, her big blue eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Deinwald. Jordan rushed to her, dropping to her knees beside the little girl.

  “There, there, lass,” she said soothingly. “Let me see it.”

  Sniffling, the little girl let her see the scrape and Jordan smiled reassuringly. “Is that all?” She drew out her handkerchief and brushed away the dirt and dabbed at the little bit of blood there was. “All better. See?”

  The girl looked at the small wound, letting Jordan’s gentle touch ease the sting. Once, she stole a glance at the beautiful lady, thinking that her dress was prettier than an angel’s and she smelled good, too. She felt special that the lady was paying attention to her. She wasn’t quite so scared of the knights with the lady protecting her. When Jordan smiled at her, she returned it.

  “What’s yer name?” Jordan smoothed away a stray lock of dark hair.

  “Mary Alys,” the little girl replied with a heavy lisp.

  “How old are ye, Mary Alys?” she asked.

  “I shall be five years next week,” the girl replied. “How old are you?”

  Jordan smiled broadly. “I am twenty years. Old, is it not?”

  The little girl shrugged and they both giggled. Then Jordan rose and pulled the child to her feet, brushing off her simple and rather dirty dress.

  “Here, Mary Alys, take this,” she pushed her silk handkerchief into the small hand. “I might not see ye on yer birthday and I want to make sure ye have a gift.”

  Mary Alys looked astonished at the beautiful cloth. “For me?” she gasped.

  “Aye,” Jordan said. “Take good care of it, lass.”

  Mary Alys’ smile was as bright as the sun. “Oh, thank you, lady, thank you!”

  They were all smiling when Mary Alys bound off, including Deinwald. Jordan turned around, her smile vanishing when her eyes fell on him.

  “Yer a nasty brute, Deinwald Ellsrod,” she scolded.

  He hid his smile and tried to pretend indifference to her statement. “If it pleases my lady.”

  “It doesna,” she snapped. “Get out of my way.”

  Turning her nose up at him, she showed him her back and marched away. The other knights and Jemma smiled broadly and followed.

  Somewhere between the buttery and the smokehouse they picked up Corin, Lewis and Jason. It looked like a line of trees following the two young women, certainly an unnecessarily large escort. Had Jordan stopped to think about it, only William, Paris, Ranulf and Marc were missing. But she was paying more attention to the newness that was Northwood.

  They stopped at the cold house and the old woman there offered them all wedges of ‘green cheese,’ which were a soft cheese with herbs and bits of onion mixed in. Only Jordan and Jemma took delight in the treat. The knights stood silently behind them, content to watch the two beautiful women happily stuff their mouths. It had been a long time since any of them had seen beauty this fair and they meant to enjoy it.

  Jordan had no idea how long William had been standing behind them. When she caught sight of him, her expression must have given away her surprise because the knights and soldiers looking at her swung around with incredible speed. They knew before they even turned around who was there and what trouble they were in for.

  William’s expression was unreadable. He stood with his legs braced apart, arms crossed over his chest casually. He eyed each and every man deliberately. Jordan almost smiled and asked him to join them, but she realized that William was angry. His body or his face did not give him away, but she knew just the same.

  “I was wondering where all of my knights had gone,” he said mildly.

  Jordan could feel the tension in the air. The stiff bodies in front of her told her that indeed they were in a hell of predicament, although she wondered exactly why. They hadn’t been doing anything but escorting the ladies on their walk. Then, of course, all of the possible reasons for his anger flooded into her mind; the men were neglecting their duties in order to follow her and Jemma about like guard dogs. She knew that whatever punishment they received, it was her fault.

  She handed Jemma her cheese and pushed her way to the front of the group, right in front of William. It almost looked as if she were going to try and bodily protect them from William’s wrath.

  “ ’Tis my fault, sire,” she said earnestly. “I insisted on going for a walk and out of the kindness of their hearts, they accompanied me.”

  He looked at her and she was nearly physically impacted by what she saw in the dark angry eyes.

  “This is no casual stroll, my lady, it is a herd of sheep,” he said evenly. “If you were, mayhap, being attacked by thirty Scots the odds would be even, but that is an unlikely event in the bailey of Northwood.”

  He might as well as slapped her in the face. His comments stung her and her initial reaction was to back away, but she did not. She felt responsible for the actions of the knights and she would not back down in their defense.

  “That would be an unlikely event in any case, considering the cost of peace,” she shot back quietly. “These men meant no harm, sire, and yer assessment that nine men could fend off thirty Scots is both arrogant and untrue. I do not appreciate having my kinsmen so blatantly insulted.”

  She caught a flash of softening in his eyes followed by a larger flash of anger. This William before her, the hard and cold commander, was not the William that had made such sweet love to her last night. This was the William she feared and on occasion, despised.

  “I was not attempting to insult anyone, simply stating a fact,” he said.

  She inhaled deeply and stiffened. Several vicious retorts sprang to her mind, but she could not force one of them from her lips. She was deeply hurt by his remarks. Why did he have to be so bloody complex? What had started out as a plea for the knights had now turned into a personal battle between the two of them.

  “I willna forgive ye for that,” she whispered, turning her back on him. “Come, Jemma.”

  “Hold, madam.” It was not a request but a direct order.

  ’Twas not the wisest move to keep walking, but she did. She was angry and upset,
and her whole day was ruined.

  “One more step and I will truss you up until I have finished dealing with my men,” he said in a low voice.

  She almost kept going. But, in a flash of sanity, she realized that he would do exactly that and she did not want to be embarrassed any more than necessary. For that reason, she stopped, with Jemma beside her, and turned to face him angrily.

  He knew she had stopped but didn’t look at her. Instead, he was focused on his men.

  “Deinwald, since you seemed so well-versed with the blacksmith’s trade, you may assist the man this afternoon when he shoes all of the destriers.” Deinwald didn’t even flinch and William continued. “Michael, I am sure Hilda here could use your help transporting goods from the cold house for the next week. And Corin and Lewis must be very good at milking cows since you were both so familiar with the buttery.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Adam and Jason, I believe the stable master could use your help for the rest of the week, which leaves me with Kieran. You are already charged with Lady Jemma and doing a fine job. In fact, I believe you could handle the household servants with as great an efficiency. Considering Lady Analiese has her hands full planning an engagement party and a wedding, I believe I have just granted you the title of interim chatelaine.”

  They were cut to the bone, insulted, degraded, stripped of their knightly dignity. Jordan was sick for them, but strangely saw none of their humiliation in their faces. They looked at William as if he were talking about the weather. They dispersed themselves without being dismissed. Kieran brushed by the ladies long enough to reach out and pull Jemma along with him.

  William watched them until they had all disappeared from his view. Then, he went to Jordan.

  “Walk with me,” he said.

  “Nay,” she returned coldly.

  He looked long at her. “I am growing weary of hearing that word come from your lips.”

  She continued to glare at him, his insulting words rolling back and forth in her mind. She was so mad she was afraid to say anything more to him.