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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Jordan, come here,” he said quietly.

  Shaking, Jordan lay down the sword and approached the two men, warily eyeing Alexander. He was staring at the ground, William’s hands swallowing up his shoulders and neck. She stopped several feet away. William grabbed the Alexander’s hair and painfully forced the man to look at her.

  “I want to hear you apologize,” William growled in his ear.

  Alexander’s mouth went into a thin line and he tried to turn away, but William held him firmly by the hair. “Do it or I run you through this instant,” he hissed.

  William was pulling his hair so hard that Alexander would have said anything simply to be free. “I apologize.” he cried.

  William released him and he fell forward, bracing himself against his desk so he would not plummet to the floor. He was breathing heavily with exertion and hatred, spittle dripping from his mouth to the oaken surface below him. Had he had a dagger within reach that moment, he would have thrown it at William. His mind was cloaked with black anger and humiliation, feeding off each other.

  “Get out!” he screamed, his voice cracking.

  William silently moved to Jordan, gathering her against him. She fell into him, feeling his strength renew her own. She had heard everything he had said, all of the revelations he had kept from her. She was frightened and relieved at the same time, confident that Alexander would harass her no more. She had seen the look in the man’s eyes and he was deathly afraid of William, and of the knowledge William held. Now that it was over, she simply wanted to get the hell out of there.

  William knew her feelings and quickly ushered her from the room. In the hall lay her scattered basket and Analiese’s necklace on the floor. She pulled away from him, going to retrieve her basket, not surprised when she turned back to him to see that he had gathered the bits of clothing and the necklace. She held the basket as he placed the items in it.

  “Do you still wish to see Analiese?” he asked her quietly.

  She nodded. “Aye, I do.”

  He sighed, knowing how important it was to her. “Then we will return to your rooms and you may change out of that dress. I am sure you do not wish for Analiese to see you in it.”

  She looked down at the torn, soiled dress. “Nay,” she whispered, her eyes trailing over her shoulder to the cooling corpse on the floor. “What about him?”

  William pulled her with him, whisking her down the corridor. “Do not worry about him,” he said, pausing but a moment to sweep her into his arms.

  Gratefully, she wound her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. Her proud, strong William. Sweet Jesu,’ what would she ever do without him?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Thomas Scott sat in the grand hall of Langton, his handsome face dark as he listened to the ranting of sundry clan members and allies. He had been listening to their anger off and on for nearly two days. His mood was black and his ale tasteless to his tongue as his mind grasped the severity of the situation before him, one almost too terrifying to believe.

  “Ye signed a peace treaty with the Sassenachs.” Oliver Barr pounded the table with a meaty fist. “They have broken the treaty, man. The bottom line is, what do ye intend to do about it?”

  Thomas observed his ally over the rim of his cup before carefully setting it down. “The treaty I signed was between Northwood and Langton,” he said. “It said nothing about the Barrs, or the Macphersons, or the Callendars, or the McKennas. Ye, Oliver Barr, attacked The Lyceum and nearly destroyed her. Of course the English laird sent for help, and he happened to send word to Northwood. The laird of Teviot was simply supporting his ally.”

  “Exactly my point,” Barr boomed. “Ye and I have been allies for many years, Thomas. ’Tis yer duty to support yer kin. I demand ye break ties with Northwood. Had it not been for the damned Wolf, we would hold The Lyceum right now.”

  Thomas was trapped, although he would not let on that he indeed felt the pressure. If he broke the treaty, he would suffer no peace from the English. If he did not break the treaty, he would suffer no peace from his countrymen. He would literally be alone, and even with the size of Langton, he could not survive alone.

  “Ye have been fighting Lord Harringham for years, Oliver,” he said evenly. “Just as I have fought de Longley as my closest English enemy. If Harringham sent a missive offering peace for yer daughter, would ye not take it simply to have a peace? Yer asking me to dishonor my word and jeopardize Jordan’s life. Northwood has committed no transgressions agin Langton, so I would not be right in my assumption that they have broken the treaty.”

  Oliver Barr sat with his elders, several members of the MacPherson clan, and the Callendar brothers. Barr was the most adamant and the others seemed to be agreeing with him simply because he was loud and aggressive, and they were a-feared to go against him.

  Thomas knew this, but he also knew that shortly he would have to make a decision. Nathaniel and Matthew sat on either side of him, and he knew they would accept whatever he decided.

  “Yer a Scot, Thomas, whether or not yer daughter has married into an English house.” Oliver had lowered his voice. “Yer duty lies in yer loyalty to yer countrymen, the same countrymen who have fought and died for ye. Ye yerself had one hundred men supporting me on my assault. Technically, they fought agin Northwood, which means that the treaty has already been compromised.”

  Thomas looked hard at Oliver before lowering his gaze. He could see that he would be given no choice in this. Two days of bickering and reasoning could have been saved if he had only given in at the beginning, but he truly hoped that his allies would see his reasoning. He knew now that they saw only what Oliver Barr was telling them.

  “Then what would ye have me do?” Thomas forced the words out, knowing exactly what he was going to be told and ashamed he would be going back on his word. But to survive, he had to bow to their wishes.

  Oliver sighed, pleased that Thomas was finally coming around. He knew the man would, eventually. “Ye will withdraw Jordan and tell the English laird that since he had broken the treaty by fighting agin the Scots, the marriage contract is dissolved,” he said, and sat down and fixed Thomas with an unwavering gaze. “Then we band the clans together and launch an attack to destroy both The Lyceum and Northwood. The two seats have long been the greatest cause of our troubles. With them gone, we can easily deal with the smaller English fortresses until we alone control the entire border.”

  Oh my God, Thomas thought. This kind of war could take years, and he was so damn sick of fighting. He glanced at the other allies to gage their reactions and was appalled to see that they were as staunch as Oliver. They’ve already discussed this, he thought in growing realization. They have already planned this and his agreement was to be a mere formality.

  “I see,” Thomas said with controlled anger. “I see, in fact, a great many things. I see that this is not a response to yer defeat at The Lyceum, but in fact, something ye appear to have been planning for a while. When I signed the treaty with Northwood, it threw yer plans haywire because ye need Langton’s strength and her strategic position. This excuse about Northwood’s troops fighting Scots is simply a convenient reason for me to dissolve the treaty.”

  Most of the latter was speculation, of course, but he felt he was not getting the whole of the story. He never believed Oliver Barr to be a power monger, but the man’s story was telling him exactly that.

  Oliver sat back in his chair. “See it as ye will, Thomas. But the fact remains that Langton canna survive without her allies. Ye need us and we need ye. And if we controlled the borders, ’twould fill our coffers and benefit all of our kin. There is great advantage in it.”

  Thomas felt Nathaniel stiffen beside him; his brother had a vile temper when roused. This talk of coffers and power had a familiar ring, but it was not coming from a familiar mouth. There was only one man who spoke of unreachable visions of gold and glory.

  “True, there is an advantage to it, but how many will die to see y
er daft scheme through?” Nathaniel said. “ ’Tis madness of which ye speak. Did Dunbar McKenna have any part in this idea of yers?”

  Oliver straightened angrily. “Dunbar McKenna has pledged his full support, if that’s what ye mean. The man knows the meaning of the word ally and I am proud to be allied with him.”

  Thomas passed a glance at his brother. Dunbar McKenna, of course. The bastard was always craving what was not his, including Jordan for his dimwitted son, Abner. Mayhap this was his way of getting back at Thomas for refusing a betrothal. He had no way of knowing that Dunbar was behind this, but his head was literally spinning with possibility.

  The McKenna probably did more than pledge his support. He probably planted the seed that created this mess. Suddenly Thomas had had enough. He slammed his cup down and rose.

  “I shall think on this and give ye my answer in three days,” he told them sternly. “Be gone with ye, I am sick of seeing yer tired faces.”

  The men stood wearily and began to file from the hall, the soft buzz of muted conversation following them. Oliver was the last one from the room.

  “I shall wait to hear from ye, Thomas,” he said in what could be termed as a threat. “I pray ’twill be the correct decision.”

  Thomas didn’t answer, nor did he look at him. As soon as they were gone, he let out a blustery sigh and swept his cup from the table in an angry gesture. “Damn.”

  “What are ye going to do?” Nathaniel asked, sitting on the table.

  Thomas shrugged. “What would ye do?”

  His brother pursed his lips. “Seems that we’re damned one way or t’other,” he said. “But since ye asked, I shall tell ye. The treaty with Northwood is not only for peace, but with Jordan as their countess, they are obliged to us. Now think of all the English warlords that are obliged to them? I dunna worry about our hotheaded allies when I think that one word to the laird of Teviot and we could have thousands of soldiers at our disposal.”

  “The treaty said nothing of an alliance, only peace,” Thomas reminded him. “They are in no way obligated to us except in that they willna fight agin us.”

  “Untrue,” Nathaniel countered. “An alliance was the whole purpose of the treaty. They are sworn to fight wi’ us now, wi’ Jordan as their countess.”

  Thomas looked at his brother. He was so damned weary he wished everyone would just leave him be. But there was much to do in three days and he could not consider resting.

  “Then let’s find out what the earl’s interpretation of the treaty is,” he said finally, sitting down in his chair. “Get me ink and vellum. We’ll send a missive to the laird and see just exactly how far his loyalty goes.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Jordan had not seen William since he had brought her back from Analiese’s room. That evening would mark the beginning of Adam’s knighting ceremony and he had much to do, so he had kissed her tenderly on the forehead and moved on to his pressing duties. She was sorry to see him go, but she was also glad so that he would not see her in her agony as she fought off a monstrous wine-induced headache. And after her run-in with the soldier, she was shaken to the core.

  She relayed the incident with Alexander to Jemma and her cousin was furious, to say the least. She ranted and raved and threatened to punch the man’s face in, but in the same breath she thanked God that she had confessed Jordan’s whereabouts to the captain. She had been terrified that Jordan would never speak to her again.

  Michael was left in charge of the ladies that afternoon. She was surprised when he insisted that she go for a walk, contending that the fresh air would help clear her head. She agreed, but Jemma was even worse off than she was and took to her bed with a splitting headache and an upset stomach. Her condition was as much from the whisky as from her upsetting day. Not even Kieran, stopping by briefly to check in on his little firebrand, could get her out of bed. Miserable, she remained with the maids to care for her while Jordan left with Michael.

  The day was cooler than it had been since she arrived, though it was still unusually humid. Jordan wore a somewhat plain gauzy linen surcoat with a simple golden tassel girdle draped over her hips. Any sort of weighty material upset her stomach, as did the heat, so she wore the surcoat with nothing on underneath save her slippers. The material was opaque so she was not revealing anything, yet she felt somewhat naughty and brazen without so much as a shift on. But it felt wonderful and cool and free and she was feeling better already.

  The sun had brought some color to her pale cheeks and her lightened mood kept a smile on Michael’s face as she chatted about anything that came to mind. Keeping an eye out for William, she directed Michael to the tanner’s shed where she intended to check on her boots. Michael, mostly silent since he was conscious of his stutter, did manage to pipe up now and again.

  Several guests from the engagement party were up and walking about, although they looked to be feeling about as well as she was. Since Adam’s knighting ceremony was following on the heels of the party, and the actual wedding was a mere two days away, nearly everyone who was at the party was being housed in and around Northwood, and that included over a thousand soldiers from various houses. Those men, however, were confined to the outer bailey and the training field. Several encampments surrounded the fortress to house them.

  One of the visiting barons, Daniel de Troiu of Deauxville Mount, had been particularly friendly to her in a pleasant sort of way. She thought him a rather handsome man with his bright blue eyes, black hair and thin mustache. He had danced several dances with her the night before and she had come to enjoy his quick humor and mannerly behavior.

  De Troiu spent a good deal of time talking to her in the sun, and with every passing minute Jordan could feel Michael stiffening beside her. She had no doubt the protective instincts were on William’s behalf and decided to wind up the conversation. With a man as large as Michael, ’twas not a good thing to pique his temper. Saying her goodbyes, she hastened Michael on to the tanner.

  The man had finished the boots, he told her, and the cobbler was finishing with the soles at that very moment. Thrilled, she saw that the boots were beautiful doeskin and she was eager to try them on. She was making small talk with the tanner as she watched the cobbler work when they were briefly interrupted by the man’s wife.

  Jordan looked up and instantly recognized the woman who had loaned her the apron to cover her head wound on the first day she had arrived. Her face lit up.

  “My pardon, mistress, but what is yer name?” she asked the woman.

  The plump woman with a kind face and big apple cheeks smiled and curtsied deeply. “Sylvie, my lady.”

  “Sylvie,” Jordan repeated. “Ye were the one who loaned me yer apron when I was hit by the rock, weren’t ye. I dinna have a chance to thank ye that day, and I apologize it has taken me this long to find ye. Yer kindness meant a great deal to me.”

  The woman blushed. “Think nothing of it, my lady,” she insisted. “I would have asked Sir William if he would allow me to tend to you, but the man was set on murder and I was afraid to. I see that you have no scar.”

  Jordan pulled her hair back so that the woman might see. “Just a little scab, but no scar, I think.” She stepped around the tanner so she wasn’t speaking over him. “What is yer function here at Northwood?”

  “Why, my Sylvie is the midwife here,” the tanner said proudly. “She has birthed nearly every babe for the past ten years. And she does a good deal of cooking for the poor and sick.”

  Jordan smiled at the man’s prideful boast. “Then I was right; ye are a generous woman.” She was struck with an idea. “How would ye like to serve me, Sylvie? I could certainly use yer knowledge and company.”

  Sylvie was overwhelmed. “My lady, that is a wonderful offer. But you have your own servants, don’t you? I have seen you with a pretty dark-haired lass, and you brought two women with you as well.”

  “True, I already have two maids,” Jordan coincided. “But the dark-haired lass is my cousin and
she is more of a companion than a servant, and my maids have their hands full with her to cater to. I really could use ye, if ye’re willing.”

  Sylvie was obviously thrilled. “Can I still tend to my midwifing duties?”

  “Of course,” Jordan laughed. “I wunna deprive future babies of yer expert hands.”

  It didn’t take long for Sylvie to reach a decision. “Then I would be honored, my lady. Besides, you need someone to take proper care of you. I have seen those knights, the way they hang all over you. Disgraceful.”

  Michael cleared his throat and took a step back from Jordan, causing her to burst out with laughter. She put her hand on Michael’s arm so he would not disappear altogether.

  “The knights have been most kind and gentle to me, mistress, and I consider them my very best friends,” she told Sylvie. “I shall see ye up in my rooms later today, if that is agreeable.”

  Sylvie gave her a quick curtsy and a thank you and was gone. Jordan returned her attention to her boots, happy to have found the woman who helped her. Truth be known, she wanted an earthy woman to balance out the worldly court lady who would be arriving any day now. She had no idea what to expect and her apprehension was growing. Now, with Sylvie around, mayhap the court lady would not be so upper-handed with the naive Scot.

  Satisfied she had made a good choice this day and her headache all but forgotten, she and Michael resumed their walk.

  *

  It was near dusk.

  Paris and Kieran had prepared Adam through most of the afternoon for the ceremony that awaited him. Adam was truly worthy, in William’s opinion, to be admitted into the brotherhood of knights, and he looked forward to officiating. The last knight he had officiated had been Corin, and that had been two years ago.

  He had a hell of a time keeping the earl out of his hair, for the man was so eager to see his son knighted that he became William’s shadow, making sure he was in on every decision that directly affected his boy.