Jordan looked up at the earl. “His beauty, of course; inside and outside.”
Giselle smiled. “You cannot ask for anything more than that, William. A woman who sees you for what you are.”
William put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “And she loved me, anyway.”
“I understand you are expecting again,” Giselle said eagerly. “William was nearly bursting with pride to tell us.”
Jordan nodded. This woman talked faster than anyone she had ever heard. “Aye,” she said, “And our sons, Scott and Troy, are at Northwood and thriving.”
Robert snorted into his wine. “Twins,” he said. “My God, William, you must have had her abed day and night to beget twins.”
Giselle shot her husband a most reproachful glare before turning back to her guests. “You must forgive my husband, dear. Sometimes he speaks before thinking,” she said. “We have yet to be blessed with heirs, but I am still hopeful. I am not so old that I still cannot conceive.”
Jordan was a little taken aback that she was speaking so openly about such a private subject. She opened her mouth to reply timidly but Giselle didn’t give her the chance.
“We have tried everything the physician suggested,” she said. “Standing on my head, copulating during a full moon, before my menses, after my menses. But, after sixteen years of marriage, nothing has worked thus far. What is your method, dear, if I might ask?”
Jordan was shocked. She could only stare at Giselle, dumbfounded, when suddenly laughter bubbled up from her lips. She choked on it and William coughed, covering her blunder and covering his own shock as well. Quickly, Jordan coughed again as if she was clearing her throat and hoped to God that Giselle didn’t catch on.
“Excuse me, please,” she coughed one more time for good measure. “This weather is affecting me.”
Giselle nodded, obviously buying her excuse but it was evident she was waiting for an answer. Jordan swallowed uncomfortably, thinking of a reply, but she could truly see nothing in the woman’s expression other than openness and honestly. Mayhap since they were now sisters-in-law, Giselle felt that such a topic was not taboo. But Jordan was mightily embarrassed.
“Truly, my lady, we have no method,” she replied. “We have simply been blessed.”
“Of course you have,” Giselle replied. “You are young and healthy, but I thought I would ask anyway. You are not showing your condition at all.”
Jordan smiled weakly. “Just wait another month or two and I will be as round as a pig.”
William decided to step in and save his uncomfortable wife. “I understand you are here in London to do some shopping,” he said to his sister-in-law.
“Oh yes, William.” she exclaimed and Jordan sagged with relief. “We have ordered the most lovely furniture, and new trenchers from the silversmith emblazoned with the Wolverhampton crest.”
At that moment, a tinkling bell resounded in the room and Giselle immediately rose. “Ah, dinner,” she said as she took Jordan’s arm. “I do hope everything is to your liking, dear. I know women in the family way are sometimes prone to sickness with certain foods.”
Much to Jordan’s dismay, she began to prattle on about pregnancy again. Jordan shot her husband a disbelieving glance and he returned it helplessly as they were led away to the dinner table.
*
Later that night, after making passionate love to each other, Jordan lay wrapped in William’s arms and he was just drifting off to sleep when suddenly he felt her shake. Concerned, he lifted his head to gaze at the back of her blond head.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
She shook again and suddenly burst out with the most robust, gut-busting laughter he had ever heard her utter. She tried to speak to him, but every time she opened her mouth more laughter screamed forth until she was literally crying. William grinned, waiting until she was rational enough to speak but was dying to know what was so funny.
“Oh, I am sorry, English,” she cried. “I shouldna laugh at Giselle, but….” She was off again in gales of hysterical laughter.
Then he understood. With a groan, his head flopped back down onto the pillow. “I am glad you think it is funny, for I was most embarrassed for you,” he said. “God, I could not believe the questions the woman was asking you.”
She rolled onto her back. “Truly, it was pathetic, but I found it so funny that she was entirely serious that it was all I could do to keep from laughing.” She wiped her eyes. “But when she asked me if I conceived the twins on top of you or beneath you, I nearly slid to the floor in hysterics.”
She put her hands on her face, laughing as she had never laughed before. He began to laugh, too, for her humor was catching. It was no time before they were both screaming with laughter, for every time they would look at one another they would start anew. William’s ribs began to hurt.
“And do you rinse your passage with egg white and vinegar to make the man’s seed stick?” he repeated his sister-in-law’s ludicrous questions and Jordan had to sit up or she would choke to death on her own laughter. She could not catch her breath.
“Stop it, stop it!” she ordered him between gasps. “No more! I canna take it!”
William lay back on the pillows, wiping tears from his eyes. “And did you walk around for three days with a cork from a fine bottle of burgundy shoved up you to hold in the male seed so that it could not escape?”
She was laughing so hard no sound was coming forth and she had to stand up to get herself breathing again. She sagged against the wall, hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her face while her husband lay on the bed and giggled like a hysterical woman. Never had they laughed so long and so heartily together. Lord only knew, there had been so little to laugh so freely about.
Jordan wiped at her cheeks, trying to catch her breath and attempting to control her uproar. William’s gasps of laughter died down as well and Jordan was returning to the bed when he started up again.
“Did you wear a Bible strapped between your legs to bless your loins before the seed was deposited?” he asked, his voice cracking.
That was the end of it. Jordan fell to her knees, absolutely hysterical, her head resting on the edge of the bed. She was so weak with laughter than she lacked the simple strength to stand. William was so overcome with laughing fits that he slowly, lethargically moved to where his wife was kneeling beside the bed and put a shaking hand on her head. God, his face hurt from all of the laughing and he thought he might literally get sick.
Kieran and Jemma appeared in their room, having heard the strange sounds of gasping and wheezing. With the door gone, thanks to William and Kieran’s strength, there was virtually no sound barrier.
Jemma saw Jordan on her knees next to the bed and was beside herself. “What’s wrong?” she cried.
William lifted his head and the two of them were seized with terror when they saw the tears until Kieran realized his liege was laughing. He smiled, puzzled.
“What in the hell is so funny that your wife is hanging off the bed?” Kieran asked.
William had to catch his breath before, haltingly, he told them of what had transpired at dinner with his brother and his wife. Jordan was so weak she could not even join in the tale and listening to her husband repeat it brought frail giggles again. By the time William was finished, both Jemma and Kieran were far gone with convulsions of mirth.
Jordan had regained enough of her control to climb back into bed beside her husband as Jemma and Kieran laughed at Giselle’s expense.
“My God, Jordan, how did ye keep a straight face with her asking ye all those questions?” Jemma demanded.
Jordan sagged against the pillows. “Oh, lord, it wasna easy,” she admitted. “My face hurts. My stomach hurts.”
William sagged next to her, thoroughly weakened from his fits. “Mine, too,” he said. Then he flicked a hand at Kieran. “Get out of here, both of you, and quit harassing us. We leave come the dawn.”
Kieran, still giggling, obeyed si
lently by pulling his wife to him and ushering her from the room. William watched them go, a smile still playing on his lips, and was seized with the urge to make love to his wife again.
He turned to her, his arm reaching out to suddenly stop in mid-air when he saw, predictably, that she had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Deinwald and Aloria were two lovebirds the entire ride back to Northwood. Neither one would let the other out of their sight, and Jordan thought it was sweet while her husband merely shook his head. Deinwald actually left Jemma alone and Jordan thought her cousin looked a little lonely without all of the attention.
The return trip was fast. They traveled quickly, without all of the excess military baggage, and made excellent time back to Northwood. William had brought with him six knights, all men that had fought with him in Wales and men he trusted. Four would stay at Northwood as a replacement for the knights that were going with him to Questing, and the remaining two would accompany him. Sir Henry Ethelredson and Sir Philip de Jonet were proud and pleased to be devoting their service to The Wolf.
On the last day of the ride, Jordan’s stomach was troubling her greatly and the party had to stop frequently to allow her some relief. They were drawing near to Northwood toward late afternoon when Jordan asked William to stop again. It was the eighth time for the day, but he neither questioned her nor hesitated. Raising his hand and reining his destrier to a halt, he lowered his wife to the ground and followed her into a bank of trees.
Jordan hadn’t been sick her entire pregnancy and was distressed that the symptom had decided to rear its ugly head now. She knew everyone was eager to reach Northwood and she felt guilty that she was feeling so rotten.
Much to her relief, there was a small stream in amongst the trees and she knelt down, plunging her hands into the cool water. The day was warm and humid and only added to her discomfort, even though she wore the dress of gauzy linen that was very cool. Her husband removed his helmet, eyeing her as he swabbed at his brow.
“Too damn hot,” he muttered. It was the first time she had ever heard him complain about his personal comfort. “I shall be glad to see the boys again. I bet they’ve grown an inch since we’ve been gone.”
“We’ve only been gone three weeks,” Jordan reminded him, standing up. “I need a moment of privacy.”
She walked into the woods and he watched her, waiting patiently for her to finish her business and hoping she felt better come the morrow. He hated to see her ill. When she finally emerged from the trees, he noticed her face to be a bit paler than normal and attributed it to the fact that she probably just vomited up her nooning meal.
“Better, love?” he asked her with a smile.
She looked at him and he was concerned to note that her face was almost gray. “We’d better get back as soon as we can, English,” she said dully. “I fear…I fear something is wrong.”
He studied her face intently, a slow horror gripping him. “What is wrong?”
Her eyes met his. “I have got…I mean, there is some blood,” she lowered her voice. “We’d better get back.”
He went cold. “Oh, God. Is there a lot? Are you in pain?”
“No pain,” she assured him. “But my stomach does hurt and I am terribly tired.”
He swept her into his arms without another word, so horribly frightened and concerned he started to shake. God, if something happened to her or to the baby…he swallowed hard, praying harder than he ever had. When things were going so well, why this? He found himself angry at God, but he was praying for help, all at the same time.
The last leg of the trip was slower for William did not want to jostle his wife. He blamed himself for her condition. He could have prevented her from the hard trip to London but he didn’t simply because he wanted her with him. Selfish, of course, so all of this was entirely his fault.
If something happened…oh, God, if something happened he prayed his wife could forgive him. He prayed he could forgive himself. His wife and his children, born or unborn, were everything to him. This new babe was barely four months old in her mother’s belly and had already been through hell. With Jordan’s kidnap, the ensuing battle, and now a lengthy trip, it was a wonder the babe had survived at all. Until this moment.
Northwood’s turrets loomed ahead shortly after dusk and relief swelled his chest. Jordan had long since fallen asleep in his arms when he motioned Deinwald to him.
“Ride ahead and summon Byron to my chambers immediately,” he said softly. Deinwald deposited Aloria with one of the other knights and was gone.
Kieran rode up next to William, Jemma fast asleep in his huge arms and looking like a small child.
“She will be fine, William,” he assured his liege. “Jemma went through the same thing. They vomit a lot but it passes.”
William looked at him, the setting sun red against his skin. “She is bleeding, Kieran.”
He could see the color drain from Kieran’s face. “Sweet Jesu,’” he muttered. “Is the babe…has she…?”
“I do not know,” William’s voice was a whisper. “That’s why I need Byron.”
Kieran felt sick for his friend. He only knew the pain too well. When the party entered the gates of Northwood, he took over for the baron and allowed William to tend his sick wife, praying furiously for the safety of their babe even as he continued to bark orders.
Byron and Sylvie were waiting for them. After William lay Jordan upon the bed and helped her remove her clothing down to her shift, the little physician chased him out and told him to stay put until he was summoned. Worried and sickened, William began to pace in the antechamber.
Paris joined him barely ten minutes later, having been apprised of the situation by Kieran. Without so much as a greeting, he joined William in the pacing.
Thomas, Matthew, Ian and Cord soon appeared at the door. They had come to greet Jordan home, but soon found themselves desperately worried right along with William when he informed them that Jordan had taken ill. All six men took up the antechamber with their pacing, leaving no room for Kieran when he came to see what was happening.
When Byron finally stuck his head into the room close to an hour later, he was surprised to see it looking like a social event. He motioned William into the bedchamber.
Jordan lay flat on her back, her feet elevated with pillows. She smiled wanly at William and he returned her smile, putting his hand on her head gently.
“How is she, Byron?” he asked.
“She is a very tired lady,” Byron replied. “Baron, you simply cannot have a pregnant woman traipsing about all over the country. She needs rest, and lots of it. In fact, I do not want to see her out of this bed for quite a while, if at all until the babe is born.”
William looked sharply at him. “Then…then the babe is all right?”
“As far as I can tell, yes,” the physician replied. “I can still hear a strong heartbeat. But consider this your warning; she is to remain in bed.”
William nodded firmly, greatly relieved. Sylvie had Jordan drink a potion while Byron pulled the earl aside.
“And I know of your appetite for your wife,” the little man said quietly. “There will be no more of that, not if she is to see this pregnancy through. You will leave her alone, is that clear?”
William was amused by the tone but kept a straight face. “Absolutely. You have my word.”
Sylvie moved to pack Byron’s things away and Byron caught her from the corner of his eye. Shooing her away, he finished packing himself and ushered the woman from the room. When they were gone, William once again smiled bravely at his wife and sat on the edge of the bed.
“It looks like there will be no more traveling for you,” he said.
There was a bit of color back in her cheeks. “So I was told. But what of Questing?”
He ran a finger along her cheek. “It will still be there. But nothing is more important that your health or the health of the babe, so you will remain here as ordered
. It will give me time to see to the renovation of Questing and have it in order by the time we are ready to occupy it.”
She pouted. “But I did so want this babe to be born there.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “I simply want this babe to be born. Period.”
*
It was the longest six months in recorded history, at least for William. He divided his time between Questing’s improvements and tending his wife, who was a very naughty girl at times. For the most part, she did stay in bed as ordered, but there were times he would enter the room and find her standing by the window, wistfully gazing over the baileys of Northwood. Not having the heart to scold her, he would simply put her back to bed and threaten to tie her there if she didn’t stay.
Troy and Scott crawled and walked while their mother was in the infirmary. They were followed closely by Sylvie, their grandfather, uncle, and cousins. There was never any shortage of companionship for the twins, and William was with them whenever he wasn’t at Questing or with Jordan.
Jordan did feed them every meal, the one thing she could do for them as they sat in their little chairs and she spooned mashed vegetables and fruits into their little mouths. They were ravenous eaters, much to their father’s delight, and by their first birthday weighed nearly twenty-five pounds apiece.
And along with their appetites, they had developed distinctive personalities that constantly amazed their loved ones. Scott was vivacious and aggressive, while Troy was a bit more cautious and loving. Jordan delighted in putting them in the big bed with her and playing with them until they either crawled off the bed or fell asleep in her arms.
It was a difficult time for her, with her babes growing up before her eyes and she not able to take a more active role in their lives, so she contented herself by doing what she could and depending on William and the others for the rest.
Some days she thought she was going daft with uselessness. Jemma spent every day with her, progressing rather nicely with her own pregnancy, and Jordan well remembered when the situation was reversed and how she would come and visit the bedridden Jemma. The knights, too, would spend days with her, playing games or simply talking, much as they did when she had been recovering from her arrow injury. She actually enjoyed the time spent, even though she was so bored with being in bed that she could scream, but she especially enjoyed sharing her bed with her husband every night. To be held by him at nightfall was the pinnacle of her day.
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