William had spent the morning in conference with William Payton-Forrester and Captain Brockenhurst, relaying the contents of the missive from his wife and listening to their varied advice. With the Scots subdued for the moment, Payton-Forrester insisted William should ride to London himself with the full complement of Northwood knights to retrieve his wife. He and Brockenhurst could remain until they returned, but William was reluctant.
“If I return myself, Henry will demand I stay,” William told the men.
Payton-Forrester sat on the edge of the huge oak table, tossing his long blond hair over his shoulders. “Tell old Henry that you must return your wife safely to Northwood and remain there should the Scots act up again.”
“That’s right,” Brockenhurst put in. “Simply tell Henry that the battle is not over yet. Northwood must be protected until she can be rebuilt, which could take months.”
William glanced at his friends, mulling over their words. “Then what would justify me bringing my wife and children back to a compromised fortress when they could just as easily remain within the safety of Windsor?” he asked softly. “Do I tell Henry that I fear for my wife’s reputation? That I must have her with me at all costs, even if it jeopardizes her life? If the battle with the Scots is not over, then she should not be here. It is logical that she remain in London.”
“Henry has heard the rumors, William,” Payton-Forrester said pointedly. “He would not fault you for wanting to remove your wife for your own peace of mind.”
The man had a valid point. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that he should take all of his knights and retrieve his wife.
Yet his only real concern was the words of Thomas Scott, the attacking army had been using Jordan as a whipping post for their hate. If indeed the battle was not over yet, then could he truly risk her safety by bringing her here? God help him, what if the worst happened and the Scots overran Northwood on their second attempt and got a hold of his wife? He shook himself; that simply would not happen. Jordan was as safe here as if God himself protected her.
He stood up. “Very well,” he said. “You gentle men have convinced me that only I should withdraw my wife. ’Tis my duty as her husband. I think I will take my knights, as well as Northwood’s, including Paris. William, can you spare me your second?”
Payton-Forrester nodded. “Gainsborough? Of course. Steven and I can hold Northwood until you return.”
“I shall leave de Moray here and the entire army, so I doubt you will have any problems while I am gone,” William said. “I will, however, take one hundred men-at-arms with me as well, and with John Gainsborough I will have ten knights. With Lewis dead and Adam the new earl, I am down two.”
He walked from the room flanked by his two friends.
“I should like to go with you as well, William,” Payton-Forrester grinned. “To see de Troiu’s face when he sees you have come for Jordan would be worth the hard ride tenfold.”
“As would I,” Brockenhurst agreed solemnly. De Troiu was his liege. “William, I do not know what to say about the earl’s actions except he is a man with little morals and even less subtlety. I am deeply ashamed by his actions.”
“You serve the man, Steven, you do not control him,” William said. “Whatever he has done does not affect my friendship with you.”
Relieved, Steven simply nodded silently as the three men continued out into the bailey.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
By the end of April, the weather was showing a remarkable inclination toward spring, and Jordan awoke to a vibrant, sunny day and knew she had to become a part of it. No matter that she had been up half the night with the twins. They were sleeping now and she would take a leisurely bath and then, finally, a walk in the sunshine. The thought of such a simple pleasure after months and months of freezing, dreary weather was enough to send her catapulting from the bed and loudly ordering her bath.
She took time to soak in the tub, washing her hair with lavender soap and rinsing it with flat ale for body and shine. Properly cleaned, she proceeded to don a dress she had made before she became pregnant but had never worn. It was a lovely pale green color with accents of silver, slightly off her shoulders with long slim sleeves.
Analiese helped her dress and Jordan was amazed that the dress actually fit her. After all, just six scant weeks ago she had been as big as a house. But the more she gazed back at herself, the more pleased she was with the changes in her body since the birth of the twins. Her breasts had always been nicely rounded, but now that she was lactating they were wonderfully large and ripe. She wondered if the largeness of her breasts made her waist look slimmer, for in faith she could not ever remember her waist being that small. She smoothed at the skirt, feeling the slight roundness of her tummy under the folds of the surcoat.
She smiled to herself ironically. She had never given her figure much thought before, but facing her in the mirror was the figure of a woman reeking with pure sexuality and pure femininity. And the cut of the dress emphasized that fact. She was forced to admit she liked the change, but wondered how temporary it was.
Analiese helped her dry her hair and she pulled the front of it back, away from her face. Soft tendrils escaped, framing her sweet oval face as she secured it with a silver clip. She slipped on matching hose and garters, noticing that even her legs had filled out a bit. She had always thought that they were rather skinny, hence her childhood nickname, but she could see that they were no more. They were shapely and soft. With pale green slippers on her small feet, she was ready for her outing.
Her escort was old Byron. He had spent his time at Windsor holed up in a cluster of seldom used rooms, dispensing advice and learning of the latest techniques from the continent. Although he shunned human contact for the most part, even he had benefitted from his stay in Windsor. Jordan was pleasantly surprised when he showed up at her apartments to accompany her on her walk.
Analiese went on her way to be with her friends and Jordan bid her goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. The young woman was definitely in her element these days and had bloomed. Jordan knew that most likely Analiese would never see the walls of Northwood again, and further hoped she would find a husband among the wealthy young nobles at court.
With the twins sleeping soundly and the wet nurse standing vigilant watch, Jordan took Byron’s twig-like arm and exited her rooms.
But they were not alone; three of the knights William had assigned to watch her lagged not far behind, as well as five or six soldiers. Jordan began to feel guilty for ignoring the men sworn to protect her. It was difficult to explain why she had rebuffed them; mayhap because she was in the seat of the English nation and still, deep down, English soldiers frightened her. She didn’t even think of Northwood’s knights as English, they were simply her family. Her knights.
It was nearing the nooning meal when she and Byron exited the castle into the blinding white sunshine. In spite of the great glare the day was cool, but the light still felt wonderful to her. Grasping Byron’s arm, they crossed the small courtyard on their way to the larger bailey at the very front of the castle.
She was surprised that Byron had much to say; he was usually silent. How he knew she was going for a walk, she didn’t ask. Her husband had said once that Byron was an extremely intuitive and wise man and for all she knew, he could read minds. But she was enjoying the conversation very much, even if she did not understand it, but was listening to Bryon talk about the latest developments in the ancient science of alchemy.
The small group passed into the main portion of the palace and Jordan watched the people with great interest. Almost all of her socializing had been done in her own apartments, and to actually land in the hive’s center was exciting for her. The last time she had passed through here she had been very pregnant, and very upset, and did not take the time to look about her. She admired the women and their dresses, and almost laughed at some of the men she saw wearing breeches so tight that she swore they stuffed their crotches to em
phasize their manhood. Jewels and ribbons and strange perfumes assaulted her senses, and she was fascinated with it all.
The party rounded a corner and ran head long into none other than Daniel de Troiu. His face lit up when he saw Jordan, a bright, sexy smile creasing his lips.
“Lady de Wolfe!” he exclaimed happily. “What a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were allowed out of your prison.”
Jordan was still mightily angry at him. She gazed at him coolly as he took her hand and kissed it.
“Baron,” she bobbed a small curtsy.
His gaze licked over her. “If I may be so bold, my lady, you do look delicious this day,” he said seductively. “You did not respond to my message the other day and I was concerned for you. Where are you going this bright morn?”
She stiffened at his disgusting compliment. Why hadn’t she seen him for what he truly was, before all of these horrible rumors got started? The man was nothing but a lascivious swine. Looking at him now, the way he was staring at her, told her everything she had been too blind to see before.
“My companion and I are going for a walk,” she replied evenly. “If ye will excuse us, Baron.”
He stepped aside only to join her little group as they walked past. “I believe I could use a dose of sunshine myself, my lady, if you do not mind,” he said. “It has been a long time since our last chat. I have missed talking to you.”
Jordan took a deep breath to fight off the insult that popped to mind. She had no desire to talk, walk or certainly be seen with the man. Analiese had said the rumors were just recently dying down. Abruptly, she came to a halt and faced him.
“In fact, my lord, I do mind,” she said frankly. “I mind a great deal. I am not wanting yer company at the moment.”
He looked shocked. “But…I do not understand, Lady Jordan,” he said gravely. “Have I done something to offend you? If so, then I will apologize a thousand times and beg for your forgiveness.”
She could feel her cheeks flushing angrily. “Leave me be, if you please,” she repeated as steadily as she could muster. “I would be alone with my companions.”
He put his hand on her arm and it was a grievous mistake. Instantly, the three knights behind Jordan were thrusting him away from her roughly, placing themselves protectively in between their mistress and the earl.
“She asked you to leave, my lord,” said one knight, the leader. His voice was deep and controlled. “You will comply with her wishes, if you please.”
De Troiu was angry and perplexed. “Nay, I do not please. This conversation is between the lady and myself, and I do not recall asking for or referring to your assistance. Step away if you value your position, knight.”
“My orders come from higher up than you, my lord,” the knight said, his tone still entirely respectful. “You will leave Lady de Wolfe alone, as you have been previously informed.”
Jordan listened, curious as to what the knight mean by ‘previously.’ But in faith, she was glad for their intervention and she intended to thank them when the time was right.
De Troiu was furious. “Baron de Wolfe does not outrank me.”
The knight looked impassively at him. “As the king’s champion, he does,” he said, turning back around to his men. “Escort Lady de Wolfe to the bailey.”
Without a hind glance at de Troiu, Jordan and Byron went on their way. When they were several feet away, Jordan glanced over her shoulder and saw that the knight was still detaining de Troiu, making sure the man did not follow her.
She wondered what on earth had provoked such protective behavior from a man she had ignored since her arrival, and what’s more, she intended to find out. Listening to the conversation, she had deduced that William had been in contact with the knight recently and it angered her; why had he not seen fit to contact her, then?
They left through the huge main doors of Windsor, entering into the massive courtyard. Jordan had no true destination in mind, simply to walk, so they began to skim the well-manicured drive.
There were carriages and soldiers and people everywhere and the entire area was alive with activity. Byron had begun talking again but she stopped him every so often to ask him from what house a particular banner was from, or to point out a bloom or a colorful bird. Her encounter with de Troiu was quickly forgotten.
The other knight had finally joined them again and she passed him a couple of curious glances before stopping to face him.
“What is yer name, sir knight?” she asked.
He was a big, big man. She had never really noticed before. His head and most of his face was obscured by the helmet as he spoke.
“Sir Roan d’Vant, my lady,” he replied.
She nodded, studying him. “Take off yer helmet.” She hated helmets; they were too impersonal.
He obeyed and she was surprised to see that he was young and very handsome. His black hair was shorn very close to his scalp, but a bit longer on the crown, and he had a well-formed face and intense blue eyes. In fact, his gaze was quite piercing.
“So my husband asked ye to be my protector, did he?” she said after a moment.
“Aye, my lady, he did,” he replied. “Your husband and I served in Wales together.”
“Were ye with him when he was wounded?” she asked.
“Aye,” he answered. “ ’Twas I who carried the earl back to London. Sir Kieran and Sir Deinwald were busy with the Welsh, covering our retreat.”
She hadn’t known that. This man had probably saved William’s life and she had been unkind to him. Her guilt was magnified for her attitude toward her guards.
“Then I must thank ye,” she said quietly. “I dinna know. And I must furthermore apologize for my manners these past weeks. I have been less than gracious to ye and yer men.”
He cracked a smile and she was delighted to see that it was a wide, beautiful smile displaying straight, white teeth. He was magnificently handsome when he smiled, but not nearly as handsome as her husband.
“My lady, you have been busy with two new babes,” he said. “You are not expected to be the consummate hostess.”
She grinned back. “Ye are too kind, sir knight. Tell me, are ye married?”
He was caught off guard by the rapid change of subject. “Nay, my lady, I have no wife.”
Jordan frowned slightly. “Pity, Sir Roan. I should like to have another friend while I am in London,” she said, and turned slightly away from him. “Come and walk with me, and tell me of yerself.”
Honored, he resumed walking by her side. Jordan learned little of him because she did most of the talking, telling him about Northwood and Langton and about her adventures since leaving her home. She found Sir Roan to be a wonderful listener and good conversationalist. She was deeply sorry she had not made an earlier attempt to get to know him.
Before she realized it they had made the round of the courtyard and were nearly back to where they had started. She paused a moment, still enjoying all of the activities and continued her conversation with Roan. Ignorant as she was of the English, he began to point out various nobles and people of importance to her and she was fascinated.
As they stood and chatted, the courtyard appeared to be in great turmoil. She glanced up at Roan and was troubled to see his attractive face creased with concern. It appeared that people were beginning to clear the drive in a great hurry and the shouting and noise from harried horses was uproarious.
“Mayhap we had better go inside, my lady,” he said calmly, but she could detect urgency in his tone.
She nodded, picking up her skirts to comply when a huge thundering caught her attention. It sounded like distant thunder, yet far more powerful. The earth beneath her shook with the force.
Instinctively, she stopped to see from whence the sound came when she was confronted by a large company of soldiers barreling into the bailey from the King’s Gate. The men were dressed for battle. She could see some of the riders with slung cross bows, and all of them were dressed in armor and mail; especially t
he knights, who rode at the head of the column.
The column slowed as they came closer, the destriers dancing and snorting and making a great commotion. The sun had dried the earth a bit and clouds of new dust flew into the air, adding to the confusion the troop was creating.
The inhabitants of the courtyard were desperate to get out of their way. Jordan felt Roan put an insistent hand on her arm, but she didn’t move. The armor and the men riding in were strangely familiar.
Like lightening, it struck her. Before anyone could stop her, she was squealing in delight and running like a rabbit for the knights at the head of the column. Roan, alarmed, took steps to pursue but a rare shout from Byron stopped him.
“Nay, man,” the little physician said. “Do you not recognize The Wolf when you see him?”
William de Wolfe had returned.
*
William saw Jordan running toward them, surprised beyond words that she happened to be in the courtyard at the exact time he chose to ride in. He had hoped to surprise her, but suddenly she was dashing toward him and he was so overwhelmed with happiness that he dismounted his horse before it even came to a complete stop.
Jordan opened her arms wide, laughing and crying at the same time as she threw herself into her husband’s waiting arms. It didn’t matter that all she could feel was cold metal, jabbing and scratching at her. All that mattered was that he was here, and he was safe and real. He had come back for her and her heart was bursting with overwhelming joy.
“Ye’re truly here!” she cried. “Oh, English, I canna believe ’tis ye. Take off that blasted helmet and let me see yer face.”
He set her down, rapidly obliging her request. When the helmet came off, he was grinning from ear to ear and she threw herself at him again, kissing every inch of his exposed face. He should have discouraged her from such an open display in front of his men, but he could not.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 108