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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

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BOOK: The Wolfe
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“My lady,” he began softly. “I am
sorry you have been so disturbed, truly I am, but there are certain rules of
conduct that I must adhere to. When we are in front of my men, I must treat you
as the future Countess of Teviot. That means that I am respectful at all times
but not overtly friendly. How my men see how I treat you will shape the way
they perceive you. As for when we are alone, like this, there are no rules and
I can act toward you as I would like to. I want to show you kindness and
friendship, so I do.”

Now it was time for her to feel like
a fool. True, she had been glad when she had voiced her feelings, but now she
felt so small she would have liked nothing better than to crawl under a rock
and hide.

Jordan had no idea what to say. She
didn’t want to make things worse. He had explained himself and she understood,
but he had not apologized nor had he had any response to her mention of the
past two nights.

Ashamed, she would not let him see
what she was feeling. She took a risk and in as much brought it on herself. The
only thing left to do was to gather what was left of her dignity and face him.

“Then I thank ye for taking the time
to explain everything to me,” she said formally. “I am not as worldly or as
refined as most ladies and dinna realize what you were doing. I should have. I
apologize for my outbursts. It wunna happen again.”

Sweet Jesu’
, how she wanted to
run away from him and hide until he forgot this whole conversation. She turned
away from him and quickly gathered the remainder of her meal. Her hands were
shaking and she prayed that he did not notice. Without looking at him, she
gathered her skirts with her one hand and attempted to walk past him as regally
as she could manage.

“Jordan,” his voice was gritty.

She stopped but did not turn around.
“Sir knight?”

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

She did, hesitantly. She did not
want to see what was in his eyes. But once her green orbs locked onto the
hazel-gold, she could not tear herself away.

“I…I have enjoyed the nights, too,”
he almost whispered it. Her eyes widened. It was a secret they shared now and
she felt her knees go weak. Even if it could never be, it was still wonderful
to know that he felt it, too.

“‘Tis most sinful that I feel that
way,” she admitted with a half-smile. “I shouldna have even told ye. I dinna
mean to embarrass ye.”

He returned her smile. “You did not,”
he said. She was calmer now, easier to talk to. “I truly am sorry that I have
made you daft, as you said. That was never my intention. In fact, I probably
should not be standing here alone with you at all. Should the earl hear rumors
from the men and it ‘twould be delicate to explain.

“Why should I care what they say?”
she said. “Ye have been nothing but a perfect knight.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you,”
he said.

They walked out of the trees
together, a couple of feet between them. Jordan felt much better than she had just
moments earlier. In truth, his few words had explained quite a bit and she was
glad to know his behavior towards her had not been personal. And the fact that
he had acknowledged her most personal statement was more satisfying than he
could ever know. Her mood was rapidly lightening.

“Tell me, English, were ye angry at
me when I stopped to pick the flowers?” she was half-teasing.

“Furious,” he told her.

“Not to mention that ‘twas most
humiliating for yer knights,” she smiled mischievously.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, seeing
that she had realized what she had been doing all along. The little scamp. He
had wondered, but God’s truth, she had acted the innocent.

“Not to mention,” he agreed.  “There
is an evil child underneath that beautiful facade, my lady. And I wonder who it
was that taught Kieran to call Deinwald a ‘son-of-a-Scot dog’ in Gaelic?”

She laughed, twirling away from him.
The dress belled up when she spun and he caught a glimpse of her shapely legs.
When she stopped, her hand was over her mouth and she was still giggling. He
came to a halt and put his hands on his hips, feigning irritation with her.

“Why are you laughing like that?” he
demanded as sternly as he could. “Deinwald did not think it the least bit
funny.”

She tried to straighten up. “Nay, he
wouldna, but Sir Kieran and I thought it was a hysterical joke.” A strange
gleam suddenly caught her eye and she began to laugh aloud all over again. “Speaking
of jokes….”

Her laughter was infectious. He was
smiling and trying to be reproachful at the same time. “Good God, now what are
you talking about?”

She skipped over to him, her eyes
alive with laughter and mischief. God’s truth, she could melt him to the core
with those eyes and her charm was unequaled. He had the sudden urge to take her
into his arms and kiss her until she fainted.

She put her hand on his arm. “Do ye
want to see something funny, English?”

He tried to look grim. “I do not
know. Does it involve me?”

“Nay.” she cried, then tugged on his
arm. “Come and watch.”

He allowed her to lead him over to
where Jemma sat on the grass by the stream. She let go of him for a moment to
lean over her cousin and whisper something into her ear. Jemma’s eyes went
wide, with fear William thought, but she nodded quickly.

As Jemma rose and walked away,
William dared to grasp Jordan’s arm and pull her to him. “What is going on?”

Jordan put her hand over his. She
was smiling broadly.

“Watch.” She did not remove her hand.
Instead, her fingers curled around his own, warm and soft.

William would have much rather
watched her, but instead he did as she asked and watched Jemma as she appeared
to be heading for Paris.

Paris saw her approach and immediately
the battle lines were drawn.

Jemma looked up at him with great
reluctance. “Sir Paris, I have lost a bet and I must pay.”

Paris cocked his eyebrow warily. “What
do I have to do with it?”

“I must pay my bet… with ye.”

He scowled. “And how are you to pay?
What sort of evil spell are you to cast on me? Or, perchance, is there
something else involved like your fist to my mouth? Hell, why am I involved at
all?”

Jemma shot a nasty look back to
Jordan before continuing. She crooked her finger at Paris. “Come here. Lean
down.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

He was about to refuse again when
she begged again, with more conviction. Knowing full well he should not comply and
knowing further that he was going to regret it, he bent down and was completely
astounded when she planted a big, wet kiss right on his mouth.

The knights and soldiers who saw it
exploded with laughter, including William. Paris jumped away like he had been struck
while Jemma simply put her hand over her mouth as if she were going to be sick.
She quickly made her way back to Jordan over the hoots of the men and scowled
viciously at her cousin.

“I have probably caught the pox from
him,” she sputtered.

Jordan was laughing so hard she could
not answer. She laughed harder when Jemma shoved her whole face in the stream
as if to wash away Paris’ residue.

Suddenly, Paris was beside Jordan. “What
was that all about?” he gasped.

Jordan put a hand on his arm, still
chortling. “Oh, Sir Paris, dunna act as if ye have been kissed by a goat. ‘Twas
a beautiful young lady that has just favored ye.”

Paris had to continue the bluster or
everyone would know that he had enjoyed the kiss. It had been such a nice
surprise that he was fighting off a blush.

“No knight likes to be…favored in
front of his men,” Paris snorted. “Isn’t that true, William?”

William was smiling broadly. “I do
not know that for a fact, Paris,” he said. “You looked as if you enjoyed it.”

“Had she kissed you there would have
been hell to pay,” Paris pointed out, then looked at Jemma as she knelt by the
water. “Try that again, banshee, and I shall take a strap to you.”

Jemma stood up, shaking the water
from her hands. “Ye dunna have to worry about that,” she said. “I told ye that
I had to pay off a wager and I swear on Saint Mary that I shall never agree to
that payoff again.”

Paris looked at Jordan. “You put her
up to this, didn’t you? You are the one who taught Kieran how to curse in
Gaelic and now he tortures Deinwald with it.” He was pretending to be outraged
but she could see that he was not. “What kind of bet was it?”

Jordan did not want to get into that
subject. Mayhap she could bluff her way out of explaining what arrogant declaration
had led up to this kiss.

“A lady’s bet, Sir Paris,” she said
coyly, lowering her lashes at him. “Nothing at all ye would be interested in.
Isna it time to leave yet?”

“Yes, it is, and I would be very
interested to know what kind of wager it was, too,” William said from the other
side of her.

She was boxed in. Jemma was grinning
like an idiot at her, liking that the tables had turned on her overly-confident
cousin. Jordan’s mind was working furiously for a solution. She was afraid that
if she told them a lie that Jemma would reveal her, so she struggled for a way
to get around the truth without actually fibbing.

“Very well,” she said, turning to
William but not looking at him. “If ye must know, I bet Jemma that ye would let
me pick the flowers we saw today. She said ye wouldna.”

“How did you know that we were going
to see any flowers today?” William countered.

She looked up at him then. “
Sweet
Jesu’
, English, ‘tis spring. How could we not see any?”

He looked down at her a moment. She
was probably lying, but he did not care. He went along with her. “And you bet Jemma
that if I let you pick flowers, then she would have to kiss Paris?”

She nodded. “Aye.”

William shrugged. “Seems a little severe
to me. And what was the cost to you if you lost the bet?”

Jordan opened her mouth to answer
him the truth - that she had bet her burgundy silk -but Jemma jumped in before
she could speak.

“She had to kiss ye.” her cousin
yelled wickedly.

Jordan’s cheeks flushed. William did
not change expressions.

“I see,” he said evenly.

Thankfully, the knights had the army
assembled and a loud whistle cut the air to let Paris and William know they
were ready to move. Jordan was deeply embarrassed and tried to move toward Jemma
but William grasped her arm and pulled her with him.

Everyone was moving in preparation
for the final leg to Northwood. Jordan and William were walking alone towards
his destrier and she was praying that he would forget all about the previous
conversation. She had no desire to continue it.

“No wonder you flew like a
frightened deer into that field of flowers,” he commented. “You did not want to
lose the bet.”

Jordan rolled her eyes miserably. “‘Tis
not true, I tell ye,” she said. “I was simply pleased to see all of the
delightful wildflowers and wanted to pick some before ye came and dragged me
away. I am going to make soap from them, and perfume.”

“Then I am glad to hear that you won
the bet of your own merit and not because you found me repulsive,” he said as
they reached his animal.

His statement was completely
ridiculous and she found herself answering before she could stop herself.

“English, ye are the most beautiful
man I have ever seen,” she snapped as if he had made a ridiculous statement. “To
say that ye are repulsive is the most stupid thing I have ever heard. And I….”

Her head flew up to look at him as
she became aware of what she had said. He was smiling so sweetly at her that
the humiliation she was washing with was overtaken by a strange sort of
boldness. He wasn’t at all offended or embarrassed by her statement, and if he
wasn’t, why should she be? It gave her a queer sense of power. Did he truly
believe she thought him to be repulsive?

She scowled at him. “And if I wanted
to kiss ye, then I would do it. I dunna need any bet to prod me into it.”

Before he could react in any way,
she vaulted onto his horse, dress and all. She surprised herself with her
boldness, but she was pleased, too. Mayhap some of Jemma’s fire was rubbing off
on her.

William pulled on his gauntlets,
never taking his eyes off of her. “My, my,” he clucked quietly. “It seems our
sweet Lady Jordan has a little bit of banshee in her as well.”

She smiled at him. She waited until
he had mounted behind her and helped her get settled.

“What about ye, English?” she asked
casually.

He lifted his helmet, preparing to
put it on. “What about me, my lady?”

“Would ye have to be prodded into
kissing me or would ye do it if ye wanted to?” she asked bravely. By damn, if
her whole life didn’t seem to hang on his answer. She knew she was being
reckless and foolish, but at that moment she didn’t care.

BOOK: The Wolfe
12.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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