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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Not now, my lord,” he hissed quietly, nodding in Jordan’s direction.

  The earl understood. “Take care of her, William. But I intend to beat the king’s door down if I have to, in order to gain private audience. Henry will not make a declaration like that and get away with it so easily.”

  “Aye, sire,” he replied, splitting from the earl and catapulting himself off the dais. Unfortunately, he ran head-on into a crowd of well-wishers and was effectively stopped.

  He was pleasant but brief, craning his neck and catching Paris’ attention. No words were spoken, but Paris knew exactly what William was asking of him.

  Swiftly, he moved off the dais and grasped Jordan firmly by the arm. She jerked, looking at him as if she didn’t recognize his face. He was worried by the look in her eye but smiled encouragingly.

  “Come, my lady,” he whispered. “Your husband awaits you.”

  She bolted up, practically dragging him with her as she blew out of the hall, her mind a muddy, boiling mess of pure confusion and utter despair. Paris found himself jogging beside her as she raced up the two flights of stairs that led to her quarters. By the time she spilled into her antechamber, her breathing was coming in hysterical gasps and she was quickly losing control.

  Paris gripped her by the arms, trying to steady her. “Calm yourself, Jordan. Breathe deeply.”

  Her hands flew over her mouth as if that would stop the horrible sobs spewing forth. With every breath she was slipping closer to insanity.

  “He is taking him away.” she gasped. “He is going to take William away.”

  Paris could see the tears, the panic, and the pain. He pulled her against him, trying to quiet her until William got there. “Have faith, my lady. He will not leave you if he has any say in the matter.”

  She pulled away from him. “But Henry decreed it. He is to be the king’s champion and he will go to London, and then to war in Wales. My God… what will I do if he…?”

  He grabbed her, pulling her to him once again. Her voice was growing louder by the moment and it would not do for someone to hear her outburst.

  “He is your husband, Jordan,” he whispered tightly into her ear. “He will not leave you alone.”

  She was sobbing against him, her pain surfacing, and she was unable and unwilling to control it. At least she wasn’t yelling anymore.

  Like a raging bull, William came charging in through the door. Paris stepped aside as William captured his wife in his arms, holding her fiercely against him.

  He had no right to ask her to stop crying, for what the king had announced was tearing him apart as well. But he had to calm her, for she would hear more than one startling disclosure before the night was out.

  “Try to calm down, love,” he whispered against her hair. “I know you are frightened, but try to stop crying. Please.”

  Jordan heard him and, as he had requested, tried to stop her tears. They did not readily cooperate, but she was soon rational enough to speak. Paris, seeing that she had somewhat regained her composure, turned to leave.

  “Nay, Paris, remain,” William instructed him quietly.

  William kissed Jordan’s temple and sat her in the high-back chair. He knelt before her, gripping her hands in his large ones. He lowered his head a little, catching her gaze, to make sure she looked at him. He smiled sweetly at her and she gave him a wan smile in return.

  “That’s my girl,” he cooed softly. “Now I need you to listen to me. Agreed?”

  She nodded, sniffling. He squeezed her hands.

  “I am sorry about the king, love,” he said softly. “I had no knowledge of the man’s intent, believe me. ’Twas as much a surprise to me and it was to you. Even now, I am sure the earl is at the king’s door begging audience on my behalf. He certainly does not want to see me go.”

  She was calmer, staring back at him with loving eyes. He loved the way her eyes seemed to reach out and caress his face. He could almost feel her touch.

  “But there is more, things you must know,” he went on. “ ’Tis true I have been keeping much from you, information that directly concerns you, but news that the earl and I decided not to divulge to you right away. We received a missive from your father three days ago.”

  She straightened. “My Da? Why?”

  He continued carefully. “It seems that he has been having trouble with certain border clans, namely the Barrs, McKennas and the MacPhersons. He has reason to believe that the border clans are intending to unite into one massive army to gain control of the border.” He was caressing her hands, as if his touch could ease her troubles. “They have given your father an ultimatum: break ties with Northwood or prepare to defend yourself against your former allies. They have as much as told your father they will destroy him unless he breaks the treaty with de Longley and Henry.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened. He fully expected her to break down again and was surprised to see that she remained quite calm, her only expressions those of concern and anger.

  “Those stupid people,” she shook her head. “Their hate is consuming them. They consider my Da a traitor for trying to maintain a peace. What is my Da planning to do?”

  “He has asked for a commitment of alliance from Northwood and her allies,” he said. “He seems to have no intention of breaking the treaty but he wants to make sure he will have support should he rebel against his fellow lairds.”

  She smiled faintly. “Ye see, English? ’Tis what I have told ye all along. My Da dinna attack yer army when ye were bringing me to Northwood those weeks ago. I knew it was the McKenna all along. He is an honorable man. Ye’re going to support him, of course.”

  “We would like to,” William said. “In fact, the messenger was sent back last night telling your father that we would support him in any manner requested. But the earl made the decision without consulting the king. He was hoping to keep the king out of this. However, now that is not possible. If I am to stay at Northwood, we must give the king the reasons why I cannot go with him to London.”

  She looked closely at him. “The king would not support an allied earl? He would send me back instead?”

  William met her gaze. “ ’Tis not out of the realm of possibility and, of course, I would not allow it. Which would bring up an entirely different set of difficulties, the foremost of which we cannot divulge to the king. Yet.”

  She tilted her head and gave him a wry little grin. “Ye mean that we lied to him, to the entire population of Northwood, and that I am a baron’s wife instead of an earl’s?”

  He smirked. “Something like that,” he muttered. “The next few hours should prove to be most interesting if, in fact, de Longley can gain audience with Henry immediately.”

  Her smile faded. “Will he tell him everything, English?”

  “I do not know, love,” he said honestly. “The earl is a very smart man. You needn’t worry about his diplomacy.”

  She looked at him a moment before shaking her head slowly. “Seems to me that ’twould be much simpler to send me back.”

  He shook his head in disagreement. “Nay, love, because whether or not you return to Langton, the border lairds still intend to band together and wage an all-out war. ’Twill only be a matter if Thomas Scott is fighting with them or against them.”

  She looked thoughtful a few moments. “Mayhap if I returned and spoke to the earls, they would listen to me and know that fighting the English is futile.”

  “A noble gesture, but useless I say,” he said. “You are now English, Jordan. You represent the enemy.”

  She bit her lip. When she remained silent, he rose and stretched his long legs, pleased she had taken the news of her father so well, but he was wondering how de Longley was progressing with the king. He was becoming increasingly desperate to speak with the man. Paris moved from the shadows and, whispering something into William’s ear, headed for the door.

  “If ye stay here ye’ll be fighting my kin,” Jordan said softly, staring at the floor. “If ye go with the king,
ye’ll be fighting Welsh. Either way, English, ’tis battle for ye. I dunna know if I like that. Nay; I dunna like it at all.”

  Paris and William passed glances at each other before Paris silently quit the room.

  William gazed over at Jordan a long time. She was staring dreamily off into space, still dressed in her magnificent ivory and gold wedding surcoat. She looked so lovely and so fragile, and the depths of his love for her went beyond words. He was suddenly seized with an urge to hold her, to take her, to make her his again and again, as he had so many times.

  He went over to her, his body beginning to tingle with anticipation. When he held out his hand, she gazed up and him and put her small hand in it without a word.

  “Come, wife,” he said hoarsely. “I would bed you as mine own now.”

  She smiled, wrapping her arms tightly about his neck as he swept her and the huge dress into his arms and carried her into the bedchamber.

  In a matter of moments they were stripped naked and were on top of the cool linen sheets, their kisses hot and passionate as their hands roved eagerly about each other. William’s tongue was licking her, lapping every bit of skin he could find in his frantic hunt to taste every inch of her. She was responding to him recklessly, without reserve, loving his touch more and more with every stroke of his hand.

  He tried to roll over on her but she put up her hands, instead, pushing him over on his back. He smiled at her through half-closed lids, reaching up to catch her lips once, twice, before she gently pushed him back down on the pillows. With a wicked little smile, she began to kiss and run her tongue over his warm, musky flesh.

  “Oh, my Wolf,” she whispered seductively. “How I wish we could do this all day,” she said, running her tongue down his sternum, “every day,” she plunged her tongue into his navel and drew a groan from him, “and all night. I dream of yer body next to mine.”

  He raised his head to watch as she ran her mouth over his groin, raking her fingers through the crisp black hair. Her long silky hair was spread erotically over her back and dripping onto his thighs, covering them both. He flinched with pure pleasure when her hot hands gently grasped his testicles, stroking his heavy organ sensually.

  His anticipation was at a fevered pitch, watching and waiting for her wet mouth to come down on him. When the rapturous moment arrived, his head slammed down onto the pillow and his eyes rolled back into his head. He could not believe the unadulterated pleasure that surged through his veins.

  Her tongue was teasing him into insanity. Her searing mouth plunged down on his again and again until he savagely pulled her up by her hair, flipped her onto her back, and drove into her so hard he rammed her head into the carved oaken headboard.

  Jordan cried out with total ecstasy as he drove into her again and again, pounding her with the force of his thrusts until wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her, but still he was not finished. He was unstoppable, wanting his pleasure to last because somewhere in the back of his mind he was unsure when they would be together again. He wanted to remember this, to sustain him for the weeks and months to come.

  To feel her throbbing heat surround him, pull at him, was sweetness unimaginable. When his climax finally came, he poured into her, imagining that his seed would find its mark and she would bear him a son. He so wanted a child that was a part of her, a part of him; to carry on his legend and blood.

  Strange he should think of that now; an heir had never held much importance to him. But because it was Jordan, any child from her would be the greatest event of his life. And, God forbid, should he perish in the imminent wars that were coming, he wanted her to have something of him.

  They lay together in the stillness of the night, clutching each other as their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. Still half-aroused and buried in her, William felt her go limp and knew she had fallen asleep. He smiled; he knew how tired she was from the day. Closing his eyes, sleep claimed him as well.

  *

  The reply from Northwood reached Thomas near the deadline he had given the clans for his own response. Cord had ridden like the devil through the night to reach Langton and was near collapse by the time he spilled in through the gates.

  Thomas held the missive bearing the earl’s seal for a while before opening it. It was as if staring at it long enough and hard enough would forcibly will the parchment to bear the answer he sought.

  Nathaniel hovered over his shoulder while Matthew sat in a chair across the room, waiting patiently.

  “Dammit, man, open it,” Nathaniel demanded eagerly. “We have no time to waste.”

  Thomas sighed reluctantly before finally breaking the seal with his finger. Unrolling the missive, he read it all the way through without any reaction whatsoever.

  Nathaniel was joined by Matthew in his hovering, both men watching their eldest brother’s face for any clue as to the content. But Thomas gave no outward clue, even as he lowered the vellum to his lap.

  “Well?” Nathaniel blurted. “What does it say?”

  Thomas looked tired suddenly. He set the message down on the table next to him and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  “It says that we are going to war,” he replied softly.

  “Damnable English,” Nathaniel exploded. “They’re betraying the treaty. I told ye they were not to be trusted.”

  “Nay, Nathaniel, I dinna say we were going to war agin the English,” he said, looking at both of his brothers one at a time. “ ’Tis a blood war, lads. Northwood has agreed to support us. The only battle we’ll be fighting will be agin our clansmen when we inform them of our decision.”

  Nathaniel looked taken aback. He stared at his brother a moment before turning away.

  “Then the English have more honor than I gave them credit for,” Matthew said. “I dinna think they would do it.”

  Thomas nodded faintly. “Lord, I wonder if Jordan had anything to do with this,” he murmured. “Is it possible that she has been accepted enough that she could convinced them to support us?”

  Matthew shrugged. “Jordi is a sweet girl, but she is not a soldier,” he said. “I am sure the earl wouldna do anything he dinna want to, no matter what his betrothed said. No, I say he is being entirely honorable. Amazing for a Sassenach.”

  Thomas stared at the paper on the table. “Then it seems the only thing to do is to send a missive to McKenna and prepare our troops,” he said.

  No one wanted to retrieve the ink and parchment. They simply remained frozen where they were, their minds contemplating the enormity of the actions they were about to create. Dear God, they hoped the English weren’t lying or didn’t change their minds. Everything they were, everything they were about to do, was in Sassenach hands.

  ’Twas an appalling, frightening prospect.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  There was a rap on the door and William was instantly awake. Bolting from the bed, he went into the antechamber stark naked and opened the door, giving no mind to his appearance.

  The earl stood in the arch, not so much as passing an eye over his captain’s nude form. “Come with me,” he said quietly. “Now.”

  William was dressed in a matter of minutes, closing Jordan’s door softly behind him. The earl led him down the hall, bypassing the stairs, and William wondered where they were going. Reaching a small alcove that overlooked the distant hills, the earl paused. William faced him intently.

  “There is no easy way to deal with this, William,” the earl said. “I spoke with Henry and told him of the Scots. I insisted that you cannot leave me now, not with the threat of total war on the border. But the king seems to think that one man will not make or break victory. He is absolute in that he needs you in London to plan his Welsh campaign.”

  William stared at him with disbelief. “Then I am going to London.” He ran a hand over his face to try and regain some of his escaping composure. “Doesn’t he understand what united Scots will mean to the border? Every English castle within a seventy mile radius of the border will b
e at risk, including Durham and Newcastle-on-Tyne. York might even be at risk. I am needed far more here that on some damn raiding party into Wales.”

  The earl put his hands up in supplication. “I know, and I told him. He knows it, but he seems to think we are quite capable without you. He knows Paris is quite competent in handling the troops.” He went over and sat heavily on the large window seat. “He read the missive from Laird Scott. Henry has been King of England for twenty-five years, William, and he simply does not believe that all of the Scot warlords will unite into one massive army. And even if they do, with their bickering and fighting, any true organization could take years. Right now, he is more concerned with the Welsh and he feels that with you as his champion, Wales can be controlled. It seems your reputation has spread, even to Wales.”

  William sat down opposite the earl, bracing a leg up on the bench seat as he gazed out of the window. He was stunned.

  “I cannot leave Jordan,” he said simply.

  “She will be safe here.”

  William looked at his liege. “I will not leave her.”

  “You have no choice.”

  William stared back at him a moment before again letting his gaze trail off across the compound. “Send her to Wolverhampton. My brother will provide well for her, and she would be closer to London, and to me.”

  “Your brother, the earl?” de Longley repeated. “That is possible, indeed. But would it be wise? Should the king hear that the Earl of Teviot’s new bride is staying at the Earl of Wolverhampton’s keep, a man who just happens to be the brother of Northwood’s former captain, it would raise questions.”

  William had already thought of that, but in his urgent quest to keep Jordan near him, he needed to hear the voice of reason.

  De Longley watched him for a moment before patting him on the leg. “We shall think of something, William, but until then Jordan will be safe here. The people love her, the knights would die for her, and my family is growing accustomed to her. Without you near her, she needs to be surrounded by familiar people. Which brings me to another point; all of the knights will demand to go with you. I will allow you to take no more than two, for reasons which I am sure you will understand.”