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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  William listened to her and let out a heavy sigh, his anger evaporated for the most part. Scratching his head thoughtfully, he moved over to the window.

  “She will keep us apart, Jordan,” he said, gazing out over the bailey. “ ’Tis too soon to let her in on our secret, if indeed we ever feel we can. Did it ever occur to you that she told you those things simply to gain your pity, when in fact, she could be a spy from Henry?”

  Jordan looked shocked. “Nay…, I mean, I dunna think she is.” She was suddenly uncertain and feeling foolish. “Why would the king have a spy here at Northwood?”

  William shrugged and turned away from the window. “Henry is a greedy, shallow man. Northwood is very wealthy and powerful. ’Tis possible he is looking for an excuse to expropriate her lands and wealth to fill his own coffers.”

  Jordan opened her mouth in surprise. “Do ye think so? But why?”

  “I am not saying this is the case, Jordan, but it is always a possibility. That is the primary reason I am uncomfortable with Aloria around.”

  “Then why did the earl send for a court lady in the first place? If it was an easy opportunity for the king to plant a spy, then why would he make himself vulnerable?”

  William shrugged and sat down next to her. “A court woman, a knight, a soldier, it makes no difference,” he said quietly. “We have several spies in our midst right now and that is not unusual. But we do not have one in the heart of the family, as Aloria would be.”

  Jordan looked back at her husband, frightened at his words. Yet, in her heart, she did not believe Aloria to be a spy. And she still believed everything the woman told her. Mayhap it was her naiveté, but she still wanted the lady. She just could not believe that she was there to destroy them.

  “English,” she said softly and he turned to her. “I dunna believe she is a spy, but I shall do as ye ask. Yet I will ask one thing; talk to her before ye send her back. Gain a bit of insight into the woman before ye condemn her.”

  He studied his wife’s beautiful face, relishing every feature but found his eyes constantly drawn to her bow-shaped lips. He leaned over and kissed her softly, lingeringly.

  “If you wish it, I will do it. You are a very wise woman, Lady de Wolfe, when you are not being so blatantly impudent.”

  From outside the bedchamber door they suddenly heard a loud thud. William leapt to his feet and yanked open the door with his wife on his heels.

  Aloria was picking herself up off the floor from where she had tripped over a small foot stool. Her eyes were wide as William came charging at her, grabbing her by the arms, and she could read her own death in his eyes.

  “You were spying!” he accused viciously.

  “Nay, my lord.” she shook her head, scared out of her mind and terribly cognizant of the painful grip he had on her arms. “I would not do that, I swear.”

  “Damnation, woman, do not lie to me,” he seethed. “You were spying. How long were you standing outside the door? How long?” He punctuated the last two words with a rough shake.

  Aloria’s face was white and she was trembling violently. “I…I entered to seek out Lady Jordan to thank her for defending me. I had just only approached the slightly ajar bedchamber door when I heard her voice, asking someone to speak with me and gain insight. And then I heard your voice, my lord, and I hastened to leave.”

  William muttered a silent curse, knowing before he asked what the answer would be. “What did you hear?” he growled.

  Aloria swallowed, knowing very well she could be sealing her own death. But he knew what she had heard and it would be of no use to lie to The Wolf.

  “I heard you call her ‘Lady de Wolfe,’” she whispered.

  William was holding Aloria so tightly that he was cutting off the blood flow to her arms. She met his gaze, however frightened she might be, watching to see what he was intending to do to her.

  Jordan stood near the antechamber door, her hand over her mouth in fright. Had William been right? Was Aloria a spy? If she was, she now knew their secret and Jordan was terrified. She didn’t know what to think.

  William’s enraged face relaxed a bit as he stared back into Aloria’s terrorized blue eyes. But his jaw was ticking and the veins on his temple bulged, strongly indicating the level of emotion he was feeling.

  “You have put me in an awkward position,” he said most quietly. “You are not a very good spy; it has been a long time since I have caught one.”

  “I am not a spy,” Aloria insisted hotly. “I would never do such a thing.”

  “Then how do you explain eavesdropping at Lady Jordan’s door?” William fired back.

  “I was not eavesdropping,” she said persistently. Oh, Lord, he had to believe her. “I told you the truth. I was coming to thank her for her support and the door was slightly ajar. I did not know that you were in the room with her.”

  William clenched his teeth. True, she didn’t know he was in the bedchamber with Jordan. And, true, the door was ajar. But the woman had just discovered Northwood’s mightiest secret, and all of their lives were now in jeopardy. She had to be silenced, unfortunately for her.

  He lowered his gaze but did not release her. “You leave me with no choice.”

  “No, English.” Jordan suddenly cried, racing to him. “Dunna do it.”

  Jemma opened her bedchamber door, having heard the entire conversation. She wasn’t about to let William kill Aloria, either. But instead of going to stop him, she fled the room in search of Kieran or Paris. They were the only men who could stop him, if at all.

  “Jordan, go back into your bedchamber and close the door,” he told her calmly.

  “Nay!” she cried, clutching one of his arms. “Dunna kill her. Oh, please, no.”

  Jordan was starting to cry and Aloria was already sobbing. But William was hard and knew what he had to do. Too many people’s lives depended on it.

  “Jordan, do not argue,” he yelled at her. He never yelled at her. “Go back into your room.”

  She was tugging at his arm, her beautiful face coated with frightened tears. “I willna let ye.” she wept. “Ye canna murder her.”

  “Jordan, I have no time for this! Do as you are told.”

  She began beating on his arms, trying to force him to release his hold on the woman. But it was like striking iron and her hands were smarting.

  “I willna let ye kill her, Sassenach,” she wept, furious as well as frightened. “She says she wasna spying. Why dunna ye listen to her?”

  He could not think with his wife hysterical. Grasping Aloria by the hair, he freed up one of his hands and took his wife by the arm and attempted to shove her back into her bedchamber. Jordan, however, proved to be uncannily strong and fought him every step of the way.

  He grunted with exertion. Aloria was struggling on one hand and Jordan was fighting like a tiger on the other hand. As intense and focused as he was, all of a sudden the situation with his wife struck him as comical and he fought off the desire to laugh. He was trying to save her life and she wasn’t cooperating in the least.

  “Let me go!” She twisted and tried to slug him.

  He sidestepped the blow and pushed her into the bedchamber, slamming the door close. There was a small bolt at the top of the door; he slid it through and locked her in.

  He had to close his ears to her screaming and kicking; hating himself for being so cruel, but knowing what he had to do. She would understand, too, eventually. He only hoped she didn’t hate him for an overlong amount of time.

  Pulling Aloria to him, he hastened to the antechamber door when he was suddenly met by Paris and Kieran. Jemma stood behind them, shaken and tearful.

  “What goes on, William?” Paris asked, eyeing the hysterical Aloria.

  William was in no mood to be challenged again, but he did his knights the courtesy of explaining. There was no telling what Jemma had told them.

  “She is a spy,” he said quietly, quickly. “She was eavesdropping at Jordan’s door and discovered the truth
about her.”

  Kieran and Paris looked at the big woman. “Christ,” Kieran muttered in disgust. “A plant from Henry, no doubt.”

  “Give her to me,” Paris said quietly. “I shall take her.”

  “Nay,” William replied. “I will do this. I will not have her blood on your hands.”

  From behind Jordan’s locked bedchamber door there was suddenly a frenzied burst of cursing and pounding, all directed at William. Jemma, behind the knights, thrust herself forward.

  “What did ye do to her?” she demanded harshly to William.

  William wasn’t going to dignify her question with a response; he had no time for her. When she tried to move past him and to Jordan’s door, Kieran reached out and grabbed her.

  “Nay, Jemma, leave her,” he said firmly. “I suggest you retreat to your bedchamber as well.”

  “Nay, I willna. I willna allow ye to conspire to kill Aloria!” she spat, taking a swing at Kieran’s face.

  He ducked her fist, snatching her arm. “Do as I say.”

  “Nay.” she screamed, all feet and fists. “I wunna let ye take her.”

  Kieran grabbed her, but not before she made good contact with his left cheekbone. He hauled her up against him, kicking and screaming and fighting him every step of the way as he took her into her bedchamber. When he exited the room and tried to close the door, she attempted to break free and he was forced to push her back, hard, so that he could close the door completely and bolt it from the outside.

  William could now do as he intended. He had Aloria roughly by her arm, and guided her out of the room and into the corridor. The knights could still hear Jemma and Jordan screaming and cursing like wild fiends until Paris closed the antechamber door and they were all alone in the dim hall.

  “Where to, William?” Paris asked.

  “The cellar.”

  Aloria, her face white and wet with tears, turned around to look at him. “I beg of you, my lord, do not do this horrible deed. I am no spy; I swear it on the blessed Virgin. I care not that you are married to the earl’s intended. I only want to live here and serve your wife. She has been most kind to me.”

  William ignored her pleas, but Paris looked at her. “You are a clever one to make both ladies defend you so.”

  “I am not clever!” she cried out. “I am a simple woman, nothing more. I can only swear to you on the Bible of our Lord that I will not reveal your secret, nor could the devil himself wring it from me. You must believe me, my lord, please.”

  He ignored her again, but he had heard her words and they cast a shadow of doubt in his mind. What if she was telling the truth and he executed an innocent woman? His wife was an excellent judge of human character, and she believed Aloria to be innocent. What if she was innocent? Good God, as much as he hated premeditated murder, he was about to commit it and he wasn’t convinced anymore that he should.

  Kieran and Paris flanked him and the prisoner as they made their way to the lower levels of Northwood and into the ‘cellar,’ an underwhelming term for a vast, cavernous labyrinth of dungeons.

  The small party moved into a seldom used offshoot of the stuffy first level, to the very last room at the end of the dim narrow hall. It was completely silent, void of any occupants. A most appropriate place to commit an execution.

  “I shall do it,” Kieran said gravely. “ ’Tis not fitting for you to do this, William.”

  “If anyone will do it, ’twill be me,” Paris said. “As his second, it is my duty to….”

  William roughly shoved Aloria into the dank, musty room. “Shut up, both of you. This is my duty, as it was my secret she discovered. My main concern now is what to tell the queen. If you wish to help, then think of a plausible excuse. Now get out of here and let me accomplish this task alone.”

  Paris and Kieran looked long and hard at him but obeyed. When they were gone, William followed Aloria into the room and closed the heavy door behind him.

  Aloria was curled up in a ball at the far wall. In the light of the dim torch, he could see her head buried between her knees and her whole body shaking.

  “What in the world ever possessed you to become a spy for the king?” he demanded after a moment. “Why, woman? I am trying to understand this.”

  Her head came up. “I told you, my lord, I am not a spy. It was an accident, all of it. I would not lower myself to the ranks of the cowardly for a simple reward or bauble in return for my services. If I was to become such a wretched creature, I would choose to be a whore, for at least I would be receiving a certain amount of pleasure for my efforts.” Her eyes were wide, beseeching him for mercy. “My lord, your wife was kind to me. Kinder than anyone has ever been in my entire life. I would not do something as despicable as spy on her, and though you are planning to kill me for such a crime, God knows of my innocence.”

  Doubts were filling him. To hear her speak, to understand her reasoning, he was now beginning to see for himself that she was an intelligent, well-bred woman. His only contact with her until this point had been a turbulent one, but now that he had spoken with her, he found himself beginning to believe her.

  Her only crime, if he were to be reasonable, was to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time and hear a bit of confidential information. If she had been a spy, she would not have tripped over her own feet in her haste to retreat.

  So many lives depended on what this stranger knew. Mayhap he should discuss this with the earl; after all, he was directly affected, as well. William was not the sort to act in haste, but he realized now that was exactly what he had done.

  “Aloria,” he said in a low voice. “Look me in the eyes and swear to me on everything that is holy that you are not a spy, and I will take that into consideration.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I am not, nor have I ever been, a spy.”

  “But you realize that you carry knowledge only a select few, very trusted people know.”

  “And I also know that you are more angry at me for having that knowledge than you actually believe that I am a spy,” she replied. “My lord, I care not that you have married Lady Jordan. Why would I?”

  “Because you are a vassal of the king, and any loyal vassal would reveal a deception of this magnitude.”

  “Aye, but you are a vassal, as well,” she countered. “And there is a good reason why you have not revealed your secret to our king, matters which I neither care about nor concern me. Who am I to question the motives of the illustrious Wolf?”

  He looked down at her and she was hoping beyond hope that he was reconsidering his intention. But much to her horror, he deliberately removed his mighty sword from its scabbard and ran a finger along the sharp edge. The movement was slow, calculated, bordering on the actions of a madman. Horrified, she continued to watch as he intentionally drew his own blood.

  “If I were to believe you and let you go, what is to say that you will not run right to Henry and spill yourself?” he asked slowly, his eyes glittering like the devil.

  She gulped at the blood streaming down the side of the pristine blade. “I can only give you my word, my lord. I will take your secret to my grave.”

  “I know you not. What good is your word?”

  “The word of a bastard daughter of noble breeding,” her throat was tight with fear. “I respect your wife, my lord, and would do nothing to harm her.”

  William cocked an eyebrow. “And I love my wife and would kill without hesitation for her.”

  Aloria blinked fearfully; the entire length of the broadsword was lined with red blood. “My lord, would that I could change things. But I cannot. I have sworn my loyalty to you in spite of your doubts, and there is nothing more I can say. If you are going to kill me, then get on with it.”

  William stared at her for a long while, seeing nothing but honesty and truth in her eyes. She never wavered from her story; not once.

  Rapidly sheathing his sword, he turned on his heel and was gone, bolting the heavy door.

  Shaken and astonished in eve
ry sense of the word, Aloria vomited her guts into the moldy straw.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Kieran and Paris met their captain at the top of the stairs as he ascended from the dark bowels of the cellar.

  “Jesus, William, wipe the blood from your sword,” Paris hissed.

  William glanced at his sword and then examined his hands; there was blood all over them, too. He heard Kieran mutter a curse.

  “It’s my own blood. I guess I nicked myself,” he said calmly.

  His men looked a horrified. “My God, what did you do? Chop her to death?” Kieran demanded softly.

  “She’s not dead,” William replied softly. God, he was feeling defeated and miserable. “She’s very much alive.”

  Paris and Kieran glanced at each other. “Why? William, she knows. You cannot allow her to live.” Paris insisted.

  “Yet she lives just the same,” William looked at his men for the first time. “She convinced me that she is no spy and for that I will spare her life for the moment, but you are correct when you say she ‘knows.’ But I believe I must speak with de Longley before I take her life for her unfortunate mistake.”

  The three of them went to seek out the earl. He was not a difficult man to find, sitting in his solar in his favorite chair, contemplating the world outside his window. He did that often and William always wondered what could keep the man’s mind so busy that he could sit for hours, staring into nothingness.

  De Longley heard the knock at his door, turning as his three knights entered the room. He could see at once that something was wrong.

  “What is it, lads?” he stood up.

  He saw the blood on William’s hands and sword and was instantly very concerned, but William waved him off.

  “ ’Tis of no consequence, my lord,” he assured him. “An accident. But we do have a problem.”

  “What sort of problem?”

  Paris and Kieran stood like huge silent sentinels behind William as he spoke.