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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  But no matter. Malcolm squared his shoulders and bravely approached Dunbar.

  “What would ye have me do, my lord?” he asked.

  Dunbar looked up at him for a moment. “Go back to Langton, lad,” he said. “I shall need ye there.”

  “Why?” Malcolm asked, disappointed.

  “Because someone needs to open the gates when the army approaches,” Dunbar explained with limited patience. “Ye do me more good inside the fortress than wi’ me, lad. I am depending on ye.”

  Malcolm nodded hesitantly, realizing that he would be the man to deliver the fate of Langton into the clan’s waiting arms. Dunbar had this all thought out already, he could see it was as if he already knew what Thomas’ answer would be. Or he had been planning it all along, regardless.

  Stomach twisting with nerves, he fled McKenna Keep and into the black Scot night.

  Part 2

  London

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  January, Year of our Lord 1233 A.D.

  It had been six months since William had left Northwood to join the king’s service. Six long months. As he sat in his opulent rooms in Windsor Castle, he found he had never been so lonely.

  Henry had not been jesting when he said he wanted William to lead his armies into Wales. Since the day of his arrival William had been doing just that, subduing border skirmishes. He would come back to London only to be forced back into service again. He had probably spent a total of two whole weeks in London and he was exhausted for home and his wife. Although being the king’s champion had its perks, it definitely had its drawbacks as well.

  When English border barons requested military assistance from the crown, William was again whipped into action. He led the king’s three-thousand-man force, when and where needed, and of late that was to Hereford and Worcester. Since his brother’s fortress was near Worcester, he had seen Robert three times.

  William had written Jordan only once a month since his arrival, something he apologized to her profusely for. He, on the other hand, had only received one carefully worded missive from de Longley. The man spoke of a tentatively calm border, a little of Jordan, and naught much else. William had been hungry for news of his wife and burned the missive in anger.

  Not all news was good. It had been difficult to write de Longley of Kieran’s accident. The third month into service and in the midst of a horrific battle, Kieran had received a terrible blow to his neck that had nearly killed him. Had his neck not been so muscular or had he been any less healthy, it would have been a mortal wound. Kieran was fully recovered, except for some numbness in his shoulder, but William and Deinwald had been terrified that they were going to lose him.

  He was sure Jemma had gone insane over the news. William could just picture her hysterics as Jordan and Paris tried to comfort her. God only knew how he would have felt in the same situation. Hell, he had been nearly hysterical and he had actually been with Kieran.

  Kieran and Deinwald both had been remarkable. Kieran took to second-in-command as if born into it. With Paris always at William’s side, he’d never fully had the chance to prove himself, and after six months of service William, would have been hard-pressed to decide who was a better second; Paris or Kieran. They were both powerful, intuitive, and uncannily intelligent.

  Deinwald, too, had blossomed with his new power. Still surly and arrogant, he had also grown a heart somewhere in the process, and the soldiers loved him almost as much as they loved The Wolf. On pure reputation alone, William had their undying loyalty from the start, before he had ever drawn his sword in Wales.

  William had to admit he did like London, but he had had no time to spend at court to know if he liked or disliked it. But one thing had been apparent; the single women of the court knew he was there, and he had a constant influx of notes, handkerchiefs, flowers, and the like. At first he had been amused by the attention, but as of late he had grown just plain annoyed. In the back of his mind he was deathly afraid the king would suggest a betrothal to one of the eligible ladies and he had nightmares over that day.

  A messenger roused him from his thoughts. The page told him that the king requested his presence and William obeyed, following the boy through the maze of corridors that comprised Windsor Castle until they reached the king’s private audience hall.

  He entered the room and bowed deeply before Henry. As he was prostrate, he failed to notice a movement out of the shadows.

  “Well, you look like a court dandy, I must say,” came a most familiar voice.

  William whirled around, his eyes wide with astonishment. Paris stepped forward, grinning like a fool.

  “Paris.” he gasped. “Damnation, man, what in the hell are you doing here?”

  When Paris’ smiled faded, William’s heart lurched. Before he could answer, the king stepped in.

  “I am afraid he came personally to inform us of a bit of bad news,” Henry said. “I know how close you were to de Longley, William. Please accept my condolences on his passing.”

  William was stunned. “The earl is dead?”

  “Aye,” Paris said solemnly. “Three weeks ago. He died in his sleep.”

  William took a moment to collect himself. He was greatly saddened by the man’s passing, more so than when his own father had died. He felt the loss of a dear, dear friend.

  “Which means we now have a new earl,” Henry cut into his thoughts. “Alexander has ascended the title. Northwood and all of her might are in the hands of a weakling. God help us all.”

  William’s head snapped up to the king, suddenly realizing the implication of that statement. He looked at Paris; his friend’s face was grave. He was desperate to get the man alone and drill him with questions.

  The king was leaning on the arm chair, looking thoughtful. “I will not strip the new earl of his title, not just yet anyway. The man has done nothing yet to warrant such an action. But I must tell you both that I am extremely wary with Alexander as Warden of the North Border. Paris, you must watch him as my personal eyes in the matter. Anything out of line I expect reported immediately to me.”

  “Aye, sire,” Paris replied. He didn’t like spying for the king, but in this case he would make an exception Alexander needed watching.

  The king snorted most un-monarch like. “It would solve the entire problem if a mishap befell Alexander and Adam ascended the title,” he mused. “He is the only de Longley offspring worth a damn. Young as he is, I think he’d make a fine earl. Well, enough plotting. You are both dismissed, I am sure you have much to talk about.”

  The king had delivered the news and now had other things on his mind, fortunately for the both of them. He dismissed the men with the promise that they would dine with him that evening.

  William was still reeling even as he and Paris strolled the corridor leading back to his rooms. Not a word was said the entire walk, but when the door to the chamber closed, William turned into a madman.

  “Are you insane?” he demanded harshly. “Leaving Jordan while Alexander gobbles up Northwood’s seat?”

  Paris put up a hand. “I know what you are thinking, but I can assure you she is perfectly safe,” he said emphatically. “The knights have the watch of her and you know that no harm will come to her.”

  William hissed loudly, kicking the nearest table into firewood. “Damnation!”

  Paris was only beginning with news from Northwood. He cocked a blond brow at his friend. “Better get a grip on yourself, William. ’Tis more to tell.”

  “Get on with it, then.”

  “Much has happened since you left, my friend,” he said. “Too much to write in one of those public missives the earl sent to you. First and foremost, let me congratulate you.”

  William sneered at him irritably. “For what?”

  For the first time, Paris smiled. “For the child your wife carries. She is into her sixth month of pregnancy, eating everything in sight and driving me daft with her moods.”

  William stared at him a long, long time. Had a chair
not been directly behind him, he would have collapsed on the floor. As it was, the chair groaned dangerously at the sudden deposit of weight.

  “A child?” he whispered in disbelief. “My… my dear God.”

  Paris, amused at the suddenly pale face, clapped him happily on the shoulder. “Aye, a child, and a large one by the size of her,” he told him. “She is already as big as a house but as beautiful as ever.”

  “My God,” he repeated. He was in shock. “A child? Is Jordan well? How does she feel?”

  “She is fine,” Paris replied. “Sylvie is with her constantly and Byron sees her daily and says the babe thrives. But I must tell you that she cries easily and rages with the change of the moon. She is possessed, I tell you. I am at my wits end dealing with her.”

  William cracked a smile for the first time. “I would gladly trade places with you, my friend.”

  Paris was so sorry for his friend. What William and Jordan had had to go through was nothing short of cruel. He gave William a sympathetic pat. “Would that you could.”

  William sat back in the chair, his smile widening as his shock transformed into delight. “A babe? I can hardly believe it.”

  His friend nodded. “The babe is due in early spring. ’Twould be wonderful if you could be there when she brings your son into the world.”

  William looked determined. “I will not miss it, I swear it. Nothing on this earth will keep me from her side. You will tell her that.”

  “I will,” Paris replied with a sly grin. “She told me to tell you that if you are not there when your son is born, she will name the child after me.”

  William laughed. “She probably would.” he sobered a bit. “Then she has been well all these months?”

  Paris sat opposite him, feeling the warmth from the large hearth. “She has missed you like I have never seen one person miss another. She eats, sleeps and drinks you. She lives for your messages, William. I truly believe they sustain her. When I told her I was coming to London, she all but followed me here.” William smiled faintly and Paris continued with the rest of his news. “But there is still more to tell. Jemma, too, is expecting around the same time as your wife. She is suffering great shame through the eyes of the castle, although the knights have treated her like a queen.”

  “Jemma?” William’s eyebrows rose. “My God, does Kieran know?”

  “No,” Paris said. “I have only seen the king, and you. He must be told immediately.”

  “Absolutely,” William agreed heartily. “I shall send my page for him right away.”

  William bellowed, sending the young boy who was hovering in the next room running. When the lad was gone, he turned back to Paris.

  “The most serious problem, however, is Alexander,” Paris went on. “I have reason to believe he is reconsidering Northwood’s alliance with Laird Scott. You know he never did agree with his father’s decision to make peace with the Scots.”

  “He cannot reconsider the alliance,” William said flatly. “It is the king’s directive. He has no say in the matter.”

  “Be that as it may, he seems to be serious about dissolving the treaty,” Paris said. “And that means if Langton is attacked, I will be powerless to reinforce them if Alexander says no. He is putting Langton and the clan Scott in great jeopardy.”

  William shook his head. “Damn,” he cursed softly. “And I am sure Jordan is hysterical about that. Did you tell Henry?”

  “She knows nothing about it. She has been having a difficult enough time with her pregnancy and your absence,” Paris said. “As for Henry, I wanted to mention it to you first and seek your thoughts. You heard Henry; he will strip Alexander of his titles.”

  William paused, thinking. He would not let Alexander ruin John de Longley’s honor. Laird Scott had put all of his trust in the English, and if Alexander refused support, then all would be lost for them both.

  “Paris, send a message to Captain Payton-Forrester at Beverley,” he told him. “Tell Will the situation and ask him for his pledge of support should Laird Scott send for assistance. If Northwood troops cannot go, then ask him if Beverley will. I will speak with the king myself about this matter.”

  Paris nodded. “Well that he will listen to his champion,” he said. “We may well have a new earl before the winter is out. As far as sending a missive to Beverley, I shall do that, but I have already thought along those lines as well. Earl de Troiu was at Northwood for De Longley’s burial and I explained the entire situation to him. You know how he despises Alexander and he has pledged his support should it come to that.”

  “Excellent,” William was feeling a little better about the crisis. “Damn Alexander.”

  Paris nodded. “And you should be aware that he has been making threats to send Jordan back to Scotland,” he said. “He does not want the dowager countess at Northwood. Yet he seems more threatened by Adam than the child Jordan carries and has even taken to hating Analiese because she has befriended Jordan. He has completely alienated himself from his family, William. Even mild-tempered as Adam is, he is not beyond verbal confrontations with his brother and I have actually had to separate them on several occasions.”

  William shook his head with regret. “Adam will kill him if Alexander provokes him beyond reason, and I serious wonder if it may not come to that,” he said. “As for my son, I suppose when I return to Northwood for the birth I will enlighten the earl as to just who Jordan is truly married to, and then I shall bring her and the babe to London with me. She will not stay there another day after that child is born.”

  “But what of the king?” Paris wanted to know. “What are you going to tell him about Jordan’s child?”

  William shrugged in resignation. “I have all of the documents here, with me. The marriage certificate, the deeds to my lands and titles. After the initial anger, I would hope he would be happy that she is still married to a border lord and the treaty will be between Northwood, Questing and Langton. It should be favorable.”

  “He will not be happy you lied to him,” Paris said. “Too bad de Longley isn’t here to back you up on this.”

  “Too bad, indeed,” William agreed. “But I think over the past six months I have proven myself invaluable to our king. Hopefully he will take that into consideration and not cut my head off.”

  Paris chuckled as Kieran entered the room, his eyes widening at the sight of Northwood’s captain.

  “Paris!” he exclaimed, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “What in the hell brings you to this hellish city?”

  “I was lonely for your ugly face,” Paris told him, then looked him over. “We received the messages from William. We were afraid we’d lost you there, old man.”

  Kieran pulled back his collar to allow Paris a view of his most impressive scar. “Damn near cut my head off, the Welsh bastard,” he said. “I guess he was mad because I cut down twelve of his companions.”

  “They deserved it, I am sure,” Paris said, indicating a chair for him to sit.

  “You’d better sit, Kieran,” William told him. “There is a lot to say.”

  Kieran looked at his lord. “What in the hell is the matter with you? You are white as a sheet.”

  William laughed as Paris smiled smugly. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Kieran.”

  “For what?” the man wanted to know.

  Paris returned to Northwood within a few days, leaving William and Kieran alone with their surprise. Both men were still a bit stunned at all of the news, but recovering nicely and most happily anticipating their sons.

  Nearly a week later, the Earl of Hereford sent out a frantic call to the king for assistance. The Welsh border lords had overrun his border lands and mad Welsh marauders were wreaking havoc. Once again, William, Kieran, and Deinwald, along with forty other knights and nearly one thousand men set out for Hereford, hoping to make it in less than four days. By that time, however, there was no telling just what state they would find the earl’s keep in, or whether or not the man was even still ali
ve. The problem there was that if the Welsh were indeed set on invasion, Gloucester was not far off. William decided to send reinforcements to Gloucester and Worcester just in case.

  Another damn skirmish, William thought as he rode from Windsor. He wondered how long this was going to take, wondering if he would be able to slip away in time for the birth of his child. His heart simply was not in it; it hadn’t been since the day he left Northwood.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Jordan stood at her window, gazing out over the bleak winter landscape. Of all the seasons to be pregnant, she decided that winter had to be the worse. Everything was gray and cold, just like her mood. Snow had fallen the night before, but it was now so much dirty mush on the ground. As January moved close to February and the birth of her babe approached, she was growing more anxious by the second, knowing William had promised to come to her.

  Jemma had been confined to her bed for the past week because of false contractions. Sylvie was afraid she would deliver early and didn’t want to take any chances. Jordan had spent a great deal of time with her miserable cousin, but she too was uncomfortable and miserable and could only take so much of Jemma’s complaining before it irritated her. Lately, she tried to limit her visits. Between Sylvie, Byron, Analiese and Aloria, Jemma was well taken care of.

  There was a knock at her door, and Paris entered before she had a chance to respond. When she turned to see who it was, she beckoned to him.

  “Paris, good,” she said. “Come here and rub my back. It pains me today.”

  He sighed heavily. “Again? I spent three hours doing it yesterday and my hands have not yet recovered.”