He cut her off. “If I am to weigh men’s lives against yours, then I will choose you every time,” he said, looking somewhat contrite. “Forgive me for not putting you first above all. Forgive me for my pretty words that now have no meaning.”
Jordan stared at him. “There is nothing to forgive,” she murmured. “Truly? We will leave England?”
“Aye,” he was rising from the bed and retrieving his clothes.
There was a great urgency in his voice. “There is no time to waste. Pack a small satchel for yourself with only the things you need.” He was pulling on his breeches but fixed her with a hard gaze. “Tell no one, Jordan, especially not Jemma. No one must know our plans. Do you understand me, love?”
“Aye,” she nodded, then her lips spread into a slow smile. “Oh, English, ye really are serious, aren’t ye? But what about yer life here at Northwood? Yer reputation? Yer station? Will ye throw that all away?”
He fastened his breeches and hastily pulled on his tunic. “You are my life, and to hell with my reputation and station. It means nothing without you.”
She had grown calm. She trusted him implicitly and leaned on his every word, as if God himself had spoken it.
This was what she wanted, what she had hoped for. No England, no Scotland, no king and no earl. Just the two of them, starting a new life in France. It was almost too fantastic to believe, but believe it she did, with all of her heart. The prospect itself was thrilling, frightening, and overwhelmingly wonderful.
“Then I shall be ready for ye,” she said quietly.
He pulled on his boots and began to quickly put on his armor. Jordan rose from the bed and helped him with the leg protection until he was once again in full regalia. He paused a moment in his great rush, glancing down at the beautiful armor and running a hand over it.
“ ’Tis the last time I will wear this,” he murmured with a hint of regret.
Jordan watched him touch it, the reverence his fingers held for it, and her eyes began to well again. He glanced up and saw the liquid pools about to spill over.
“Nay, lady, no more tears from you,” his voice sounded tight. “ ’Tis time I go downstairs and it’s time for you to prepare yourself for the feast. And a suggestion if I may; wear a dress that will travel well.”
She nodded obediently, wiping at her eyes. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead before moving quickly for the door.
“William?” she called after him.
He stopped at the archway. “Aye, love?”
Her eyes were wide at him, her face pale and wan. “Are ye sure?” she whispered, her eyes narrowing at him to catch any hint of doubt he might display.
His face went hard and determined. “Never more certain of anything in my life.”
He fled the chamber. By mid-morning, Jordan was bathed and dressed and packed. She had tried to be secretive about it, especially with Jemma’s big ears and mouth, but she feared that she had not done a very good job. Jemma began to look strangely at her and ask even stranger questions until Jordan went in her bedchamber and closed the door.
Her bath had been long and she had washed her hair twice, for she had no idea when she would again get the chance. Dressing had been the tricky part; she wanted to wear something more elegant than a traveling dress, yet something that would wear well and she would be comfortable in for some time.
She eventually decided on a dark blue linen surcoat with a heavy lining. The bodice was snug and flattering, covering her delicate skin. The sleeves were long and moved well with her.
She had a heavy petticoat under the abundant skirt, a pair of thick hose, and the doeskin boots that the tanner had made for her. She was grateful for their durability and comfort. She had pulled her long hair off her face with a matching lavender-and-gold hair band, then proceeded to braid it into one thick braid that draped prettily over her shoulder. Tendrils of hair fell loosely about her face.
She had a lush blue cloak lined with white rabbit that matched the surcoat perfectly, and she tucked it under the bed along with her satchel. The bag itself held her essentials as requested: a brush, a small mirror, two cakes of Lavender-scented soap and a rag, another set of stockings, a spare shift, a small vial of beeswax for her chapped lips, and her lighter weight linen surcoat with the gold girdle.
With all of her surcoats and jewels, everything she was taking to start her new life was shoved into that small little bag. She absolutely had no regret but for one, she prayed her father would eventually be able to forgive her for doing what she must.
There was a knock at her door and she opened it to find Paris smiling at her.
“Good morn, my lady,” he said pleasantly. “I am your escort this day.”
She smiled and stepped into the antechamber, noticing Kieran had come for Jemma. She was pleasant and smiling, but deep in her heart she already missed her friends and kin who had become so important to her. As much as leaving was to be her ultimate joy, it would also be her great sorrow because she could honestly say that she loved these people.
“Come, Lady Jordan, for the gallery awaits,” Paris said, prodding her towards the door. Without a hind glance to her cousin, she latched onto Paris’ arm and swept from the room.
Jemma waited until the door closed before whirling to Kieran.
“Something is not right,” she insisted.
He looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Jemma shook her small finger at him. “I mean, Jordan is acting strangely. Most strangely. Something’s amiss and I intend to find out what it is.”
He smiled and pulled her against him, lifting her petite body off the floor. He had been quite open with his affections for her in recent days when they were alone. At first she had expressed outrage, but in truth, she craved his touch. He was the gentlest man she had ever known, for all of his incredible size.
“Your mind is playing tricks on you,” he said, burying his face in her neck. “There is nothing awry.”
She began to melt at his touch but was determined not to lose sight of her thoughts.
“Stop it, ye brute,” she said half seriously. “Put me down.”
He let her feet touch the ground but he did not release her until she ducked down and pulled herself free of the tree-size arms.
“Be serious, Kieran,” she stamped her small foot. “Come with me to her bedchamber. Mayhap there is something there that will help me discover what she is up to.”
He grinned wolfishly. “My pleasure.”
“Ooch.” She thrust a warning finger at him. “None of that, I tell ye.”
He looked properly contrite. “As you wish, but you are disappointing me.”
She jutted her chin up and turned on her heel. “That is your misfortune.”
Opening the door, she began to carefully pace the room, her amber eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. Everything looked quite normal. She threw open the doors of the huge wardrobe and ruffled through the dresses and dug through the accessories that lined the bottom.
Kieran was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed and his expression amused. “Well?”
She didn’t answer him at first. Then, she pulled back and looked thoughtfully at the items in front of her. “A traveling satchel is missing.”
Kieran shrugged. “So?”
Jemma didn’t respond. Instead, she went to the bed and tore off the covers. He watched her curiously in her increasingly serious quest. He, however, was becoming quite bored with it all and was about to suggest she give it up when she suddenly dropped to her knees and ducked her head under the bed.
“Kieran!” she yelled, and he was immediately on his knees beside her, looking under the bed. “Look. Her bag and a cloak shoved over there, by the head of the bed.”
She straightened quickly, still on her knees, looking at him with astonishment. He looked at her with mounting confusion. Kieran wasn’t naturally suspicious unless he had a good reason, and it appeared as if he might have just that.
&
nbsp; “She is going to leave,” Jemma said, jumping to her feet.
Kieran went around the bed and withdrew the cloak and bag. He opened the bag with Jemma peering over his shoulder and was disturbed by what he discovered. With a heavy sigh, he replaced the bag and cloak and turned to Jemma.
“Not a word, Jemma,” he said. “At least not until I speak with William. Mayhap he knows what is in her mind.”
“Why wunna she mention this to me?” Jemma wondered aloud. “Was she going to leave me here while she returned to Langton?”
He shook his head and didn’t want her speculating, ’twould simply make her upset. “I do not know, sweetheart,” he said. “Do not worry yourself over it just now. Let me see what William has to say.”
Neither one of them knew of the incident with the earl early that morn. Jemma had been fast asleep in the other room and had heard nothing. Michael had not mentioned anything unusual, and William had come and gone before she had even awoke.
It never even occurred to her that she would be running away with William, or why. She was deathly afraid Jordan had had enough of the English treaty and was determined to go home.
*
The morning feast was just that; a feast. The mouthwatering smells of roast venison and beef filled the air and the guests and family were merrily enjoying the second formal meal in as many days. Wine and ale flowed freely.
Jordan sat at the earl’s right, but the man had not spoken nor even acknowledged her during the entire meal. She felt sick with embarrassment and shame, but looked forward to her future with William. Keeping that thought foremost in her mind helped her deal with the earl’s presence.
Would the earl even care enough to retaliate against her family? And what of the king? The man was in York and was expected on the morrow. Would he avenge a broken treaty? She had to trust that William had thought these matters through, and that he was certain that her family would suffer no ill effects. She hoped he was right.
Far to her left, Jemma entered the hall with Kieran. Jordan felt confident that whatever turmoil she and William left in their wake, Kieran would not let it reflect badly on Jemma. She trusted that the English knight would take good care of her cousin.
William wasn’t sitting at the dais. Instead, he was seated with the visiting captains and knights directly off to her right, sitting by a man who was quite striking. The man kept glancing in her direction, giving her a devastating smile, then laughing when she looked away primly. She decided that he was a rogue and she hoped William would slug him for being so flirtatious with her.
Someone sat next to her. She glanced up to see Analiese seating herself formally, accepting a cup from a servant with practiced arrogance.
“Good morn,” she said to Jordan.
Jordan was shocked that Analiese actually extended the first greeting. “Good morn, Analiese. Are ye feeling well today?”
Analiese nodded curtly. “Better that I was feeling yesterday.”
“I know what ye mean,” Jordan admitted ruefully. “I will never drink that much wine again.”
“Nor will I. Remind me of that fact at your wedding should I appear to be getting out of hand.”
Her manner was stiff but Jordan was delighted at her attempted conversation. She thought that mayhap Analiese wasn’t just an arrogant bitch because that was her nature; mayhap it was all she had ever been shown and had reacted accordingly. Treated kindly, she responded well.
“I would ask the same of ye,” Jordan said. “But at least ye dunna look as if ye were feeling poorly not a few hours ago.”
Analiese dropped her gaze and looked into her cup. “Thank you,” she said. Then she paused. “Not simply for the compliment but for everything, Jordan. I hope… I hope that we can be friends one day.”
Jordan raised her eyebrows. “Someday? Why not today?”
Analiese broke into a thin smile with small, yellowed teeth. “Agreed.”
Jordan and Analiese carried on a friendly conversation that gradually grew into a warm one. They spoke of a great many things, some serious, some not. But they talked the entire meal, neither lady hardly touching a bite.
“Who is that man sitting next to Sir William?” Jordan asked.
Analiese daintily picked at a piece of bread. “That is Captain William Payton-Forrester of Beverley Castle.”
Jordan snorted. “The man is a rake. Look at him, his arrogant manners and the way he smiles. A womanizer.”
“He was, I heard, until he got married last year,” Analiese replied. “My servants think he is the most beautiful man they have ever seen. Next to William, of course.”
Jordan was about to heartily agree that William was beautiful, but caught herself. “I hadn’t really noticed,” she shrugged casually.
Analiese looked at her but Jordan averted her gaze to her plate. “He has certainly noticed you,” Analiese said. “He looks at you all of the time.”
“He does not.” Jordan scoffed, uncomfortable.
“Aye, he does,” Analiese countered softly. “All of the knights do, except for Kieran, because he is in love with your cousin. Do not feign ignorance, Jordan. Surely you know how they feel about you.”
“They are loyal vassals,” she said.
Jordan was starting to sweat. “I have no interest in them.” True enough, she had no interest in the knights as a collective whole; only William.
Analiese sighed and turned back to her food. “I wish…I wish William would look at me that way he looks at you.”
Jordan’s head snapped in her direction, banking the wild jealousy that surged through her. She knew of Analiese’s feelings, but this was the first time she had ever heard the woman voice her thoughts. Jealousy gave way to pity. The poor girl was in love with someone she could never have.
“Ye’ll find a proper husband someday, Analiese,” she said reassuringly. “And not a knight, either. A fine nobleman.”
Analiese glanced at William. “I would give it all up for the Captain.” She suddenly felt embarrassed at her confession and turned back to her food. “But he only has eyes for Northwood; and for you.”
Jordan didn’t reply, for she had no idea what to say. Gradually, she became aware of breathing over her left shoulder and turned to see the earl listening in on their conversation.
He actually smiled at Jordan, though she wondered if it was not for Analiese’s benefit. She, on the other hand, found it very difficult to look the man in the eye after what had happened earlier that morn. Legally, he had every right to do it, but she still felt violated and ashamed.
“My two favorite ladies,” he said. “You will never know how it pleases me to see that you two are finally being civil to one another.”
“ ’Tis more than that, sire,” Jordan said with forced courage. “We are friends.”
“I am glad to hear that,” he answered with a lingering gaze.
He eventually turned back to his sons and Jordan found herself searching out William to see if he had seen the conversation. Indeed, he was watching her like a hawk. When their eyes met, he gave her a faint nod and returned to his friends.
She inhaled deeply to stop her quivering stomach, wanting to get the hell out of the room. She was becoming increasingly impatient, hoping it would not show.
Jemma was seated several chairs down and saw the glances between Jordan and William. She was more puzzled than ever, and she was determined to ignore Kieran’s request of saying nothing. Jordan was her cousin, her kin, and she would know what the woman was planning, or die trying. She was also doubly troubled by the fact that Analiese was sitting next to Jordan. Although the conversation looked peaceful enough, she was positive that Jordan needed her intervention.
“Ladies.” Jemma sat on the opposite side of Analiese and eyed the woman venomously.
Analiese stiffened and Jordan was immediately fearful that Jemma would ruin all she had worked for.
“Lady Analiese, ye remember my cousin, Lady Jemma,” Jordan said quickly. “Why, it was just as
I was telling ye; Jemma helped make this dress. She embroiders beautifully and she had expressed great admiration of the surcoat you wore the night we arrived. ’Twas a magnificent piece of work. Wasna it, Jemma?”
Jemma was so stumped that she blinked twice as her cousin smiled encouragingly at her. This did not sound like a hostile confrontation to her. She had been prepared for an all-out verbal war. But from the looks on their faces they were actually enjoying themselves and she wondered if she were even in the right castle. Wasn’t this the home of the vicious, petty Lady Analiese? But, fortunately, she had enough presence of mind to follow Jordan’s lead.
“Aye,” she began slowly, then quickly. “Aye, it was indeed beautiful. Do ye do yer own embroidery, Lady Analiese?”
“Aye,” Analiese said flatly. She obviously hadn’t forgiven Jemma for the previous insults.
Jemma was not ignorant; she had a good deal of intelligence and could see that Jordan was making amends with Analiese. Biting back her natural snappishness, she smiled sweetly.
“Then ye will have to show me your methods,” she said nicely. “I canna embroider as well as ye do by a far sight. Would ye be so kind?”
Analiese’s haughty look faltered slightly as she glanced at Jordan and then to her cousin again. “Mayhap someday, when I do not have more pressing duties.”
Jemma was the model of an obedient, respectful lady. “Ye’re too generous, my lady. I look forward to that time.”
Jordan silently thanked God for giving Jemma the wisdom to curb herself in Analiese’s presence. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her chest and she actually took a deep, cleansing breath. Jemma smiled at her cousin and curtsied deeply, preparing to return to her seat.
“Wait,” Analiese said just as Jemma stepped away. When Jemma turned and faced her expectantly, Analiese struggled against her pride and flicked a wrist in the direction of an empty chair that was flush against the wall. “Join us, if you will. Lady Jordan and I were speaking of… husbands.”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 81