The Wolfe (103 page)

This is going to the difficult
part
, he thought to himself. “Your father is alive, Jordan But your aunts,
both of them, perished, as did your cousins Robert, Benjamin, Donald, and your
Uncle Nathaniel.”

Jemma suddenly collapsed into deep
sobs. Kieran knelt by the chair, holding his wife to him. Jordan glanced at Jemma,
her own eyes spilling over with silent tears.

“Jemma’s mother was my Aunt Lilith,”
she whispered. Jemma had lost her brother Donald as well. “Go on, English.”

William was reluctant but did as he
was asked. “Your cousin, Caladora, was taken by the clans and your Uncle
Matthew and your cousin Ian went after her. Your father did not know what had
become of Malcolm or Cord. They simply vanished.”

“Malcolm!” Jordan hissed, tears
splattering on the bodice of her dress. “The bastard, he is behind all of this,
I know it. Ye should have killed him when ye had him, English.”

“Aye, I probably should have but you
asked me not to,” he reminded her.

“And Callie?” Jordan suddenly shot
to her feet in anguish. “They took her? Where did they take her?”

“I do not know, love; your father
didn’t know,” he put his hands on her arms in an attempt to soothe her.

But she pulled away from him, facing
Jemma. “Yer father and brothers went after her, Jemma. Mayhap they are all
still alive. But where would the clans have taken Callie?”

Jemma, sniffling loudly, brought her
head up from Kieran’s neck. “I dunna know,” she said. “But if Malcolm’s behind
it, he has always had ties to Abner McKenna. Mayhap they went there.”

“Wait a minute,” William put himself
back into the conversation. “Agreed, Malcolm is a shady personality, but he
alone could not have united the border clans. He may be involved, but he is not
the force behind it. Yet your father also speculated that the clans might have
taken Caladora to McKenna Keep.”

Jordan swung to her husband. “Where
is my Da, English?”

“At Langton,” he replied steadily.

“But ye said it was destroyed,” she
shot back. “Why did ye leave him there?”

“There are parts of it that are
habitable. And he insisted on staying. I wasn’t going to force the man back
with me, Jordan,” he told her. “Moreover, if there are spies about, ‘twould not
be good for Sir Thomas Scott to be seen with the English. Those clans left your
father alive for a reason, love, and that was to teach a lesson to any other
Scot who was thinking of a peace alliance with England. They left your father
alive to witness the destruction of his life for his decision to make peace. If
he were to be seen with me, then they would most likely return and kill him for
a lesson not learned.”

Jordan stared back at William, her
mind spinning with his words. Of course he was right, he always was. But the
fact remained that her father was alive and she was deeply thankful. But she
also wanted to see him, very badly.

William watched his wife’s beautiful
face as emotions played on her features. He could only imagine what she might
be feeling. He had told her as much as he dared, leaving out the part about the
clans focusing their anger on her. To imagine their hatred towards his wife
brought hatred of his own.

“Did ye tell him about us?” she
asked after several moments.

“Aye,” he smiled softly at her. “He
was stunned at first, but quickly came around. He seemed rather pleased to have
The Wolf as his son. And he was ecstatic to learn of the twins.”

She looked at him, so miserable with
the rest of the news she could not muster the strength to smile back. She was
suddenly very, very tired.

“I would retire now,” she said
softly, turning away from them all. “Jemma, I will speak with ye more on the
morrow.”

William moved up behind her,
escorting her from the apartments and back to their own without a word. Once
inside, she went directly to their bedchamber, stripped naked, and climbed
under the covers. William paused on his way to the bedchamber only to check on
the twins. By the time he reached the room, she was already under the sheets
with her eyes closed. He sighed sadly.

“Talk to me, Jordan,” he said
quietly. “Do not shut me out.”

She stirred. “There is nothing I
want to say.”

He ripped off his clothes and
crawled in beside her, pulling her against him. To his surprise, she wasn’t
resistant and molded right to him.

“I am sorry this had happened,” he
kissed her hair. “I would have done my best to prevent it had I had the
opportunity.”

“I know,” she said. “I knew that the
worst had happened, but it is still distressing to hear. I want to see my Da,
English.”

“Mayhap later,” he replied
ambiguously.

“Soon,” she insisted. “I must see
him. Please?”

“I cannot promise you anything,
love,” he told her firmly. “At least not until I am sure the Scots have
disbanded.”

Jordan lay against him, grinding her
jaw. She didn’t like being denied a visit to her father when it was so
important to her. She thought she knew the clans well enough to know that if
they were going to launch another attack, they would have done so by now.

And Caladora; what of Caladora? Her
sweet, gentle cousin held captive by raging clans tore at her heart. Sweet
Jesu’, what had happened to her and to Uncle Matthew and her male cousins who
had pursued her? Her mind was swirling, thoughts upon thoughts, for there were
just too many unanswered questions. Questions she must find answers for, for
her own peace of mind.

“Will ye take me back to Langton
yerself?” she asked after a moment.

“When I allow you to go, of course,”
he replied. “None other would escort my wife but me.”

And that would not be for some time,
according to him. She could not wait that long.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Days passed into one another and
became weeks. The only troops left at Northwood were her own soldiers and the
king’s army. Brockenhurst had long since left for Deauxville Mount and Northwood
was slowly but surely regaining her strength.

Jordan had said very little about Langton
since the night William had informed her of its fate, but it was all Jemma
could talk of. She spoke so much on the subject that Jordan was growing quite
weary and snappish with her.

But Jordan was not speaking of Langton,
not because it hadn’t been on her mind. In fact, she had thought of little
else. She was going back to see her father and her husband be damned, but she could
not seem to formulate a foolproof plan. She wasn’t that devious. But listening
to Jemma rattle on, she realized who indeed was the cunning, sly female in her
family. If she was going to Langton, then she needed her cousin’s help. She
could not do it alone.

When the two of them were alone one
night, she bluntly told Jemma of her intentions and demanded she help her. Jemma,
elated, not only agreed to help her but insisted she come along. After all, Langton
was her home, too, and she would know what became of her father and brothers.
Jordan worried about disobeying William and provoking his wrath, but Jemma
wasn’t even concerned about it. She knew William would never punish Jordan,
just as Kieran would never lay a hand on her, either. If their husbands would
not take them home, then they would be forced to go themselves

They made plans, stole peasant
clothes and packed for the trip, all the while pretending the situation was
entirely normal. But every time Jordan gazed into William’s trusting eyes, she
felt extremely guilty and deceitful. She rationalized her actions by blaming
him for no reason, and somehow it made her feel a little better.

She was going home. Yet, in the
middle of all of she and Jemma’s secrecy, there were some wonderful changes
going on.

Scott and Troy were sitting up now, strong
little pups that they were. She fell in love with her sons anew every time she
looked at them, fed them, bathed them. They, and William, were her whole life,
but she had to return to Langton to satisfy a hollowness in her. All she wanted
to do was see her da, hug him, and tell him that she loved him. That was truly
the entire purpose, along with learning Caladora’s fate. William obviously
didn’t understand the need.

Mary Alys had become an integral
part of Jemma and Kieran’s lives. Their world revolved around the little girl,
who had blossomed from a shy little thing into a sweet, beautiful girl. Jemma
kept her dressed in the finest frocks and doted on her endlessly. Kieran would
take the child with him everywhere, even to the training field when the knights
would practice. Mary Alys would perch herself on the fence and cheer for her
father and the other knights, dispensing kisses to the victors of contests.

William was constantly amazed that
his hard, focused, professional knights, men he had known and trained for
years, had suddenly turned into soft human beings since the birth of his sons
and the addition of Mary Alys. They obviously adored the children.

It was July and the weather was warm
and surprisingly dry. It was in the middle of the month when Jordan discovered
that once again, she was breeding. With the twins barely four months old, she
wasn’t particularly surprised. She and her husband’s appetite for each other
had been insatiable and constant. She was excited to tell William.

She told him one evening after
supper as they were walking along the nearly completed outer wall. He sat down
on the edge of the parapet and pulled her between his legs, nuzzling her neck.

“The evening is warm,” she
commented.

“As are my loins for you,” he
purred.

She playfully batted at him. “Is
that all ye think about, English? Ye’re like a rutting stallion sometimes.”

He nipped at her. “And you are my
brood mare. Shall we mate?”

“William!” she gasped in
exasperation, looking around to see if anyone was listening in.

“You are my wife and I may say
anything I choose to you,” he insisted. “To hell with prying ears.”

She toyed with the ties at the top
of his tunic. “What did ye call me? A brood mare?”

“In a manner of speaking, if I am to
be a stallion,” he shrugged with a smile on his lips.

“Then you are suggesting that I am
only good for breeding?” she pressed.

“I never said that,” he cocked a
dark eyebrow. “You are good for a few other things, though I cannot think of
any at the moment.”

She opened her mouth in outrage and
he laughed, pulling her to him and kissing her swiftly. She put her arms around
his neck, her face very close to his, smiling at him lovingly.

“But breeding is what I do best,”
she commented leadingly.

“Aye, you do it very well,” he replied
before he caught on to her tone. “Scott and Troy are the finest sons a man
could have, and.…” He suddenly looked at her with a curious glimmer in his eye.
“Why do you ask?”

She grinned. “Because it seems that
I am breeding. Again.”

His mouth hung agape for a moment
before he clamped it shut. Then his eye took on a marvelous twinkle. “
Again
?”
he repeated with awe, his hand instinctively moving to her faintly rounded belly.
“God, love, are you sure? I mean, it is so soon.”

“Aye, I am very sure, and it is
never too soon,” she answered him. “I plan to give ye a dozen sons before we
are finished.”

He looked at her, shocked, for
another moment before pulling her fiercely to him. She returned the hug as hard
as she could.

“Are ye pleased?” she asked softly.

He continued to hold her, kissing
the side of her head. “More that you could possibly know,” he said with deep
feeling. “I love you, Jordan, with all of my heart.”

“I love ye, too,” she answered,
pulling back. “Dunna look so shocked. Everything will be well and I feel fine.”

“You look wonderful enough,” he
insisted happily. “I have heard that pregnant women have a color about them,
and you do. All this time I thought it was me who caused the color in your
cheeks.”

“Well, ye did in a literal sense,”
she smirked, but then sobered just a bit. “Dunna tell Kieran yet, at least not
until I tell Jemma. I am afraid it will remind her of Bridget…”

She broke off and he nodded in
understanding. “Of course. But you had better tell her soon, for I am about to
burst with pride.”

“I will, I promise,” she said.

They continued to kiss and cuddle
under the nearly full moon until William caught sight of two people approaching
them across the rampart. By the time Jordan turned to look, Kieran and Jemma
were upon them. Both of them were beaming from ear to ear as they came to a
reckless halt a couple of feet away.

“Congratulate me.” Kieran roared
happily, squeezing his wife. “I am to be a father again!”

***

The next day, Jordan and Jemma were
sitting in Jordan’s small antechamber trying to spoon-feed the twins their
first taste of porridge. The boys seemed to love the taste, thanks to the honey
their mother had put in it, but actually getting the gruel into their eager
little mouths proved to be somewhat of a challenge for all involved. It was no
time before both women and both babies were spattered with the gruel.